We anxiously peered over the Gate 57 walls at the Kansas City International airport. Dozens of travelers with bags in hand waltzed off the plane, making their way towards the baggage claim.

Adorned in our grey kilts, we laughed nervously while holding up welcome signs and scanned the crowd of people for five nervous Chileans. My knees were weak and palms were sweaty and I actually thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest.

After waiting for what felt like hours, the moment I had been waiting for finally arrived, and five Chileans beaming with excitement stepped into the airport and into the city that would be their home for the next five weeks.

Three months before this moment at the airport, I found myself sitting next to junior Claire Boehm during the Sion exchange presentation.

“We should totally do this,” I whispered to Claire and she nodded excitedly back at me. A summer in Santiago, Chile? It sounded too good to be true. I pictured myself roaming the streets of Santiago, my parents half-way across the world, laughing alongside the girl I would be paired with who would undoubtedly be my soul-sister. It sounded like bliss to me.

But then the Associate Head of School Kay Walkup told us the catch. My daydream of a summer in Santiago came to a halt. You didn’t get to travel to Chile over the summer unless you hosted a Chilean in your home in January. I toyed with the idea in my mind. A random girl. Living in my house. Eating my food. Breathing my air. I didn’t think it sounded right.

Let’s face some facts: I am spoiled. Rotten. Totally, completely, spoiled. I don’t like having to worry about other people needing things in my house. I’m the youngest, therefore, I am used to being on my own. It’s just the way I’ve always been, I’m independent.

So naturally, the idea of someone busting in on my royal home didn’t sound like something I was interested in. But I wanted to go to Chile. I thought about it a lot and decided I could bear four weeks with a house guest if it meant four weeks in paradise over the summer.

I pitched the idea of the exchange to my parents just to see their reaction, and there was not even a glimmer of hope in my mind that they would say yes. But they did. Ha. Funny how things like that happen. Of course, they said yes, when I had already accepted the fact that they would say no.

It wasn’t until the night before the Chileans arrived that I realized what I had gotten myself into. I was literally going to pick this random girl – a stranger – up from the airport and bring her to my house. And she was going to live with me. For five weeks. Even though we knew nothing about each other. It sounded like the beginning of a horror film to me. Girl picks up stranger, welcomes her into her home, gets brutally murdered, the end.

I fell asleep that night questioning my parents’ decision to let me do this and realizing that the bubble I had been living comfortably inside was about to be popped by a Chilean girl named Isa.

The ride to the airport was the longest drive I have ever experienced. I rode in the back of the Boehm’s car and listened to Claire and her mom argue back and forth. Claire seemed to be experiencing the same kind of mixed feelings I was.

“Mom, stop it. Stop saying this is all going to be perfect. It’s not like she’s going to step off the plane, take my hand and then all the sudden we’ll realize we are by planning all our activities around food. Our first official dining at an American restaurant was Chipotle Mexican Grill. Gourmet eating, I know.

Boehm and her exchange student Renata Pardo accompanied us and we were anxious to see how they would respond to eating the deliciousness that is fake, American style Mexican food. Thankfully, they loved it. I’m pretty sure I would have hated all Chileans had they said they didn’t like Chipotle.

No one at the table could finish their burrito and it was decided that Americans eat way too much. Tell me something I don’t know. The car ride home was pretty entertaining as we blasted some quality American music. Thrift Shop by Macklemore proved to be the Chileans’ favorite song.

We made it a solid 10 minutes in the car when I realized I couldn’t find my purse. My purse that had about $200 worth of babysitting money, my mom’s credit card, my license and my favorite lipstick in it. Needless to say, I was freaking out. We raced back to Chipotle and searched the entire proximity, thankfully finding it behind the counter.

“Get used to it. This stuff will happen to her all the time,” Claire told the Chileans as I continued my panic attack. It was true. Bad things follow me around like a storm cloud. It was two full days later that the next fiasco happened. Welcome to America, I have bad luck.

I was squeezing between two cars on the street and clearly came a little too close to the other vehicles because I rammed into another car. And took their side mirror off. Like the mirror literally just fell off. Fantastic. Isa’s mouth dropped open and she gasped.

Junior Sydney O’Dear happened to be watching the entire accident on the sidewalk with her Chilean, Maria Jose Vergara, who found the entire situation hilarious. Thanks for the support everybody. Being the complete baby that I am, I burst into tears, but to Maria Jose and Isa it was just another stupid thing that happened to the American chick with bad luck.

Undoubtedly there will be more unlucky moments, but also many good memories in the next four weeks. So I will do it all with a smile on my face, because in the back of my head, I still remember my dream of a summer in Santiago.

And in less than six months, that dream will become a reality. Keeping that thought in mind helps me realize that all this is worth it. Next year I won’t be writing about the struggles of hosting an exchange student. (I fear Isa will go back to Chile and tell all the Chileans her host watched Netflix and ate pizza rolls all day. But that’s an American tradition, right?) I will be writing about the glorious life of an exchange student. And honestly, I couldn’t be more excited… bad luck or not.