1988-1989 My Last Year as an Average / Normal High Schooler
During my sophomore year at Mountain View High School in Bend I worked at a pizza restaurant downtown Bend. It was one of the hippest spots to work at. It was kind of like that hit 80’s show, 90210. I was in the back, loading and unloading the dishwasher. It was called Stuft Pizza. I was also working hard at school, getting good grades and playing sports. I was really getting the most out of life in the late 80’s.
One day, during a French class during my sophomore year, I noticed a flyer on the door asking students to apply to become an exchange student. It said, “See the world, study abroad! Talk to your teacher.”
I always thought being an exchange student would be cool, reflecting on those days of reading about the places in the encyclopedia. I knew some of the exchange students at Mountain View High School. I thought I'd give it a try, and I told my teacher that I was going to apply. She was very hesitant on giving any info. “I’ve been wanting another student in this class, who is much more qualified than you, to do this,” she said, “if you do apply, don’t count on me giving you my recommendation.”
“Good to know,” I replied. I don’t know what I did to get that teacher against me. I think she simply wanted the other student to take the same initiative that I was about the opportunity. I talked to the other student and she said that she had absolutely no interest in going anywhere during her junior year.
I applied, and was invited to go to an interview with the Rotary club that was selecting its candidates. I got real Joe America during the interview — I wore my letterman's jacket with my cross-country team letter, went in there, and talked about how I wanted to explore the world.
I think what won it for me was my short story of going to Louisiana to stay with my cousins a few years earlier during a couple months in the summer of 1985. “It was an entirely different world,” I said with big eyes, “I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like in a different country.”
The next week I got a really great call saying, “Guess what! We've selected you and one other person to represent the Bend Rotary as an exchange student. Congratulations!”
It was a dream come true. I felt like one of those screaming contestants on the Price is Right running all over the house. My parents couldn’t believe it. “Ok, so you actually made it into the program?” My mom asked.
It was so gratifying to go to French class and let that teacher know that I was selected. She couldn’t even muster up a “congrats.”
My social life took a turn for the better. I was surprisingly still riding out the stigma of an incident from my time in Elementary. I started hanging out with the exchange students and the selected students in my area. We all would go to conferences around Oregon up to the point when the selection of which country we were going to travel was announced.
I really wanted to go to Europe, Australia, or Asia. Somewhere very far away. When the moment came up to announce who was going where, we were each handed our envelopes. I opened mine up and read with a fake smile, “Chihuahua, Chihuahua, Mexico?”
The Mexican exchange students ran up to me and congratulated me. I tried to show excitement, but inside I felt like it was a real let down. I was hoping to be scaling the Swiss Alps, but instead I was going to some place one hundred miles south of El Paso.
To make things worse, my family couldn’t really afford the cost of the plane ticket, plus my annual monthly allowance that would be sent to me.
My folks were handling the cost of my new baby brother and us two older teenage kids. My mom, who still a nurse, was working with a patient up in the hospital, and she mentioned to him about her son who got selected to be an exchange student. She told him how it broke her heart because she couldn’t afford to write a check for me to do it. The patient told her to have me visit him in a couple weeks at his home, and that he’d help me out.
I drove to his home, located in a resort town of Sunriver outside of Bend. I talked with him about the exchange program, and I found out that he was in the Rotary. He also was a top-level executive for Nike. His home was like a museum, with a life-sized sculpture of an elephant and other global items. “Travel is the best thing any kid can do. Let me pay for your plane ticket and your monthly allowance,” he said.
Wow. I couldn’t believe it! This generous man gifted me what would end up being the best year of my adolescence.
The moment I had that check in the bank, I worked on getting a passport, proper immunizations, and then continued working at the same pizza place until it was time for me to go. My friends were carpooling to live shows to the Grateful Dead at Autzen Stadium, and as hard as it was for me, I stayed behind, in an effort to keep my nose clean and money saved up until it was time to go.
I remember when my family and friends all gathered to see me off. They threw a big party with a cake and gifts, all there to gather to celebrate and wish me off. Hot dogs and burgers were on the grill, cousins were playing, and dogs were running around. I was so energized to be about to be jumping on a plane in the next couple days, where my life would completely change!
I realize now how hard it must have been for my mother. I couldn’t imagine how stressed I’d be to send my teenager off to another country for an entire year.