The bitter cold bit at my cheeks as I tried to muster the strength to hold up the sign I had created just days ago. It was a simple sign that I made on my own but nonetheless it was an essential prop for the role I was about to play. I had only seen one play performed on stage while in America but it was relatable to performances people put on back home where people dress up and play roles they do not normally have. For my role today, I had chosen to dress in a costume that consisted of a pair of soft pants and a long sleeve button up shirt that was red and black. The pants were way too big and covered in stains and the shirt was extremely faded, missing a few buttons, and reeked of cigarettes. I had a light jacket that I wore over the shirt even though it did nothing to help keep me warm. I put on a pair of men's black boots and finished off my look by covering each hand with a black, greasy glove. I did not wash my body or hair today. In fact, I attempted to make myself appear dirtier than I was by smearing some black stuff in tiny amounts on my face along with some dirt. My hair was left ratted and in tangles, pulled back, and held place with a piece of string that I wrapped around it and tied into a knot. I definitely looked like I fit the role, but is it enough to convince total strangers? I stood there taking in my surroundings; saddened by the smell of poisons filling the air, trash along the side of the paths as though it were decoration or pieces of art, and a constant flow of people passing right in front of me. "It's only one day, you can do this,  I told myself. Slowly I inched myself closer toward the corner of the path I'd chosen to be my stage, opened up my sign, and finally lifted it up for all to see. I was now playing the role of a panhandler; a part of the American culture that had peaked my interest just weeks ago. If you had asked me a month ago what panhandling was my response would have been something like, "it's the handling of pans while cooking, right?  Now that I have spent time here in America though, I am slowly learning more about their culture and this strange sounding thing called panhandling (which has absolutely nothing to do with pans and cooking). The first day that I was introduced to what Americans call panhandling, I had been living with my host family for almost a month. The nights here were coming sooner and it brought with it a cold chill in the air. I had woken up to another morning spent shivering in bed and seeing my breath as I exhaled. I quickly sat up and reached to close the open hole in the wall, which they call a window. I'm reminded of how uncomfortable my mornings are now when I keep it the window open. As I close the window my attention is drawn toward the brightly colored leaves that now fill the tops of the trees and have begun to paint the ground below them. I watch as the tree's arms sway back and forth like they are dancing with the wind. It is amazing to see the changes that are taking place here. This particular change with the temperature I did not expect, nor was I capable of preparing for in advance due to the year round warm climate where I live. In order to help me stay warm here in America my host family agreed to take me shopping for different clothes. I rushed to get ready and eat some food before going to the local store. Although it has been just a few weeks I have found myself getting more use to their transportation here. My host family uses a personal possession that is called a car. I have noticed that they treat their cars sort of like one would treat a kid. Americans have to take care of them, give them different types of juice, and be careful not to hurt them to ensure they continue to work. Even though they call them cars, I question what the different names I see on them are for. Today's ride in their car started out like any other. We drove down paths that look like they were made by taking thousands of tiny rocks and smashing them together. This made their paths very smooth and easier to take their cars from one location to another. You rarely see people walking on the paths and if you do, they usually walk along the side away from the cars. During each travel we take