After spending a week in Panama City, on the Spanish trip, it was time for me to spend a week with a Panamanian family that I didn’t know.

Waiting on the bus to find out what Panamanian family I would be spending the next week with was both terrifying and exhilarating.

Watching person after person get off of the bus and step down to be greeted by their new family only made me more nervous for what was to come.

When finally it was my turn to get off the bus only my host mother Milena was there. That only added to my fears since everyone else had at least one sibling that had come to greet them. I was totally terrified of what was to come.

The first thing my mom told me was not to worry because they have a washing machine, which made me ecstatic because by the end of the first week in Panama running around with my classmates I had run out of clean clothes and my whole suitcase smelled nasty.

As we were walking home from where the drop off was I quickly found out that my host mom and one of the other American’s host moms were sisters and so we were ‘cousins.’ This meant I would be spending a lot of time with her since both of our sisters had school at around the same time.

Finally I got to the place I would call home for the next week and was surprised to find out that my oldest sibling named Yoharis was 12. I also had an 11 year old sister named Aimee and two brothers aged 6 and 5 named Gorge and Amir respectively.

While the house was only one story, I could tell that the family was wealthier than the rest based on size and the fact that my room had air conditioning, which saved me from the sweltering Panamanian heat and humidity at night.

I quickly found out that although I had gone to Park Spanish Immersion and felt confident in my spanish ability, the week would be harder than anticipated. While that family wasn’t able to offer me anything material, they did share with me their patience during the whole experience.

My family spoke almost no English and what they did speak had such a thick accent that it was harder to understand than their Spanish. I also realized that even if I was mid-sentence, if I forgot a word, they would not understand my point at all.

The first night I spent there was one of the hardest of my life and I realized that when I woke up I would be surrounded by people I didn’t know.

I also quickly learned that the family owned a rooster that lived just outside the house right by my  room, so I was awoken at 5:50 every single morning for that week.

As the week went on, life became easier and easier, especially since I was able to visit my ‘cousin’ every day, which kept me fairly sane. By the end of the week I was crying leaving my host family at the school where they had picked me up and wishing that I had the opportunity to stay just a few days longer.

What astounded me is that the community did not have much, but what they did have they were willing to share with a group of Americans for a week. Even though we may have stood out in their small town, they welcomed us with open arms.

Whats the point?

1. Keep an open mind
2. Don’t be afraid of experiences
3. Always share whatever you have