Meet the Johnson’s

So I moved in with my host family a few days ago. To help protect their anonymity I’m giving them ironic American names. There’s George, the father, Rachel, the mother, Billy-Ray, 11, Max, 10, Elizabeth, 6, and of course little Hannah Montana, 4. The house itself is mostly outside, surrounded by large cement walls. Then there’s the bathroom, the kitchen, the Den, and the bedrooms which all stem from the primary courtyard.

It’s a modest house, but fine for my needs.

My first impressions of the family?

Well, I’ve been spending most of my time with the kids, the house kind of serves as the hub for all the children in the ‘hood. They say the best way to learn a foreign language is to talk to kids, and I can definitely attest to that.

What I’m really starting to notice is that the family, both the kids and the adults, don’t really know how to interpret Western culture. Just 40 years ago the country had virtually no access to the modern technology. So much foreign culture has just been piled on them. So for example, when I’m in the car with George, he’ll be listening to really gaudy hip hop.

The kids love Biggie Smalls, Bob Marley, and John Cena…       …as they should.

On the negative side, there are like EIGHT MILLION kids everywhere. I think at any given moment someone’s wearing my headphones, taking pictures with my camera, using my laptop, going through my backpack, recording something with my tape recorder, and hanging on my back. It’s…..new.