As my family drives through Roscoe Village, we watch cold Chicagoans shopping, brunching, or bundling up in winter clothes. We point out every Starbucks (which seems to be on every corner) and every mention of pumpkin-flavored food—in Belgium, both are for special occasions.

Simon Vanspauwen arrived on Saturday, October 28. My family couldn’t have been more excited to have our very own “Belgium”—my mom would take him to Starbucks because my brother Ian and I would never go with her, my mom would bake him a pumpkin bread because neither Ian or I would eat hers, and my mom would take him to the museums Ian and I never wanted to see.

My grandma was Danish, and she always hosted foreign students and loved nothing more than making others feel comfortable. So we wanted to do the same for Simon. We couldn’t commit to hosting someone for a whole year, so our compromise was this short, nine-day period. And since Ian was the one advocating for a student in the first place, we got a boy for him. Needless to say, we had high expectations.

Our expectations were exceeded.

Simon isn’t fluent in English, and since we don’t speak any French—one of Belgium’s native languages—we were all adjusting to the language barrier. That was the challenge, but I had Google Translate open on my phone just in case, so it wasn’t a big problem. And Simon understood a lot of what we said.

I found myself speaking more clearly (and not as fast), thinking of ways to introduce Simon to all things American, planning our next outings for foods he had never tried. I learned that making an effort is extremely important—I wouldn’t have learned everything I did about Belgium, and Simon wouldn’t have learned so much about America, if we had stayed silent because of the language barrier.

And it wasn’t just with Simon, either. All of the hosts and students were together on their second night, and I learned what would become the topic of most of my conversations with Simon. He loves Harry Potter—most of the other Belgians did, too. Who knew that the Belgian students had previously visited the studio where Harry Potter was filmed? And who knew they loved it almost as much as I do?

We introduced Simon to a classic American pastime—talking politics. Simon takes an American elections class at his own school, so he probably knows more about last year’s election than I do. Most interesting was the response to a conversation about Trump—the Belgians certainly chose an exciting time to visit. Only minutes after we had met Simon—even before the indictments were announced—Trump’s name came up, and he laughed, shaking his head. “Oh my god,” he said. “Trump…”

His words said it all. How interesting to watch current events unfold on the news, especially with foreigners. How novel it seems not to be so used to Trump, not to have breaking news every night and your President’s name always attached to Russia. I can’t imagine what that would be like.

In not understanding any of Simon’s French, I started thinking about spending time abroad—if our roles were reversed, I know I would want my host family to make the effort to talk to me, too. I don’t see myself applying for School Year Abroad (SYA) simply because of the time commitment, but I know I’ll study abroad in college to strengthen my language and for the experience. Every time we had to Google Translate words with Simon, I thought of how much easier it would be if Simon spoke Spanish instead of France—so maybe I’ll choose to do a semester in Spain.

Talking to and accounting for Simon was challenging at times, but I would do it again in a heartbeat… and who knows, maybe I’ll get a girl next time.