The Homestay, day 1
JFMF staff in Tokyo worked with a fair amount of zest to prepare us for the homestay. Horror stories abounded...or just one. In Japan, the traditional evening bath consists of washing oneself before entering the tub, lathering well and then rinsing off very carefully. And then, once thoroughly cleaned, getting into a piping hot bath. We were told of one JFMF'er who splashed the water in the bath to give the impression of having gone in, and having not fooled the people who needed fooling - the host family. There was the advice of getting in and not cooling the water off, just getting used to the temperature slowly, because usually the family would invite the guest to go first, and the rest of the family would be sharing the same water. There was the advice to not drain the water, for the reason just mentioned. We were told to be sure to bring pj's with us, and to use the toilet first - the toilet and bath are separated in Japanese culture.
And there were of course other concerns. How much English would the family speak? How to avoid awkward silences? How to communicate food preferences? How to adequately thank people for having us? What if we totally hated the food they served us? What if we just didn't get along?
Each of these ran through my head, but only for a while. Last Monday we met our host families, just for an hour. But that was enough to ensure that I'd recognize them when I saw them again, yesterday. It also gave us a chance to talk and make plans for our time together: I deemed to say that I liked to cook, and Saturday night I baked two pizzas for my host family. (Not my greatest work, mainly due to my own insecurity, fear, and perhaps a bit of the quality of the cheese and flour, but they seemed to like it, even the two boys who may not yet know how to smile and fake it.)
Then 4 days passed, including one trip to the internet cafe, from whence my last posts were sent. And I want to interject a bit about the internet cafe, because it is very notable. It was located in Omuta City, in the Fukuoka province, a 20 minute cab ride away from Arao City in Kumamoto, where we were staying. Arao is the size and feel of Coopersville, Michigan...small, agricultural, and Omuta is more like Grand Rapids. Kumamoto and Fukuoka are two of the 47 prefectures in Japan, very akin to our states in governmental terms. So, 20 minutes in a cab, and we're at the internet cafe. We go in...they're nice to the gaijin...and they set us up. This place is wild. Easily 40 little stalls with desktop computers, plus another 15 that are a bit bigger with futons and wide desks, and some even with two machines. People come here to play video games, chat online, watch movies (there was a DVD selection you could choose from), read manga, play pool, sing karaoke, drink unlimited soda, coffee, and eat soft serve ice cream. Cost was ¥500 for 1 hour, or ¥1100 for 5 hours. And naturally, they're open 24 hours. There was a magazine selection, everything from technology to Asian pornography. All included in the price. Probably an interesting place to visit at 3am.
Internet cafe comes and goes...2 hours later we're back at Hotel Verde in Arao. Off to a restaurant purported to serve basashi - raw horse meat. Not my favorite Japanese dish, but felt I should try it - and Andrew and Jenny were quite excited...who am I to say no? We went, ordered Mr Ed and chicken and salad and sushi. I tried a tiny bit - about the size of a dime...I did swallow, but didn't take a second bite. I was done. Went to the grocery store, bought a gift bag and a bottle of sake to take to my host family, and was done for the night.
Saturday morning, the day started off with a tea ceremony. I made traditional Japanese tea for my host father, Isao; his wife, Etsuko, was performing in the tea ceremony, looking beautiful in her kimono, the younger son, Hikaru, was running around, and the other, Rikaru, was at home asleep. Traditional tea used in the tea ceremony is powdered, so it brews quickly, meaning that it tends to be bitter. This tea was no exception, hence it's always served with some sweets, eaten before the tea. Then we went into the tatami room to experience a truly traditional tea ceremony, prepared by a master who's been doing it for (I'm trying to remember here) 70 years.
After tea, we had lunch with our host family (again, dad and youngest son), and then departed for the host home. Mom was still cleaning up from the tea ceremony, so she came back later. So dad and I sat at the kitchen table and talked: things we like to do, educational systems in Japan and the US, his work as a vice-principal, etc. Mom came home, we all talked, and then went to the grocery store. The list included cheese and vegetables to make a pizza, as well as a sizable hauling of sushi. We returned home, I began making dough, as as it was rising dad and the two sons and I went to see the sunset on top of a mountain home to a Shinto shrine. Beautiful.
Somewhere in here it occurred to me...I'm really relaxed. Their house is, in many ways, Japanese. Slippers or socks are worn indoors; specific slippers are always worn to the toilet; the sons share a room of tatami floor where futons are put down at night. But it's also quite Western: clutter in most corners of the house, signs and labels in English, cuckoo clocks in the kitchen...and did I mention the clutter? It felt very much like being at home.
Dinner was great: baked salmon, a salad, sushi and pizza (which I made for them!). I had a bit of the sake I brought, and dad finished the rest of it. Then we headed out for the department store to do some shopping, which they helped me with - thank god. No way I could have gotten all the information we were being given. Then home...and to the bath.
And this is, frankly (upcoming pun fully intended), where it gets most interesting. First floor, there's the bath room...literally, where the family bathes. I'm told to go first. I go to my room, get my pj's, and return. I close the door, and get undressed...and the door opens...it's the youngest, Hikaru, son who needs to finish brushing his teeth. And he seems to think nothing of the totally naked white guy who's looking rather mortified. 30 seconds later he leaves, I breathe again, and go into the next room, which closes with a shower door, because it is in fact, a very large shower. There's a deep tub, as well as an area of the floor which can drain, where you wash yourself. I turn on the water...and the younger son comes in again. Me, just as mortified. He proceeds to tell me, very nicely, which soap to use for my hair (in Japanese, but with infinitely useful hand gestures) and for my body (likewise, Japanese and universal 'body soap' gestures). And then leaves.
I stand there for a second, laugh out loud, and begin to wash. Things go well, I realize I really like this system. And then the bath. Again, I've been told it's really, really hot. So I put a toe in - I can sacrifice a toe in the name of all that's important to my body...and it's okay. Really okay. Warm, hot even, but bearable. And not even in that one-inch-at-a-time-oh-god-i'm-only-up-to-my-shins kind of bad, but rather the ohhh-nice-I-can-sink-right-in kind of feeling. So I do.
And shortly thereafter I remember the question being asked about baths while we were still in Tokyo...once you get in, how long so you stay? The answer: it's going to be so incredibly hot, you should go for 5 minutes as a goal, but you may not make it. And here I am, in a really wonderful bath, great temperature calm and peaceful, and having lost all sense of time. So a few more deep breaths, a bit of playing with a squirt gun left on the side of the bath (love houses with kids), and I extricate myself, towel off, say my thanks, and go to bed.
The bed stood about 20 inches from the floor, and consisted of 2 tatami mats on a bed frame, with a 2" futon mattress on top. Absolutely wonderful sleep that night. I woke up at 7:15 in the morning, went downstairs for breakfast...and that's where the story stops for the moment. See Homestay Day 2 for the continuation...
And there were of course other concerns. How much English would the family speak? How to avoid awkward silences? How to communicate food preferences? How to adequately thank people for having us? What if we totally hated the food they served us? What if we just didn't get along?
Each of these ran through my head, but only for a while. Last Monday we met our host families, just for an hour. But that was enough to ensure that I'd recognize them when I saw them again, yesterday. It also gave us a chance to talk and make plans for our time together: I deemed to say that I liked to cook, and Saturday night I baked two pizzas for my host family. (Not my greatest work, mainly due to my own insecurity, fear, and perhaps a bit of the quality of the cheese and flour, but they seemed to like it, even the two boys who may not yet know how to smile and fake it.)
Then 4 days passed, including one trip to the internet cafe, from whence my last posts were sent. And I want to interject a bit about the internet cafe, because it is very notable. It was located in Omuta City, in the Fukuoka province, a 20 minute cab ride away from Arao City in Kumamoto, where we were staying. Arao is the size and feel of Coopersville, Michigan...small, agricultural, and Omuta is more like Grand Rapids. Kumamoto and Fukuoka are two of the 47 prefectures in Japan, very akin to our states in governmental terms. So, 20 minutes in a cab, and we're at the internet cafe. We go in...they're nice to the gaijin...and they set us up. This place is wild. Easily 40 little stalls with desktop computers, plus another 15 that are a bit bigger with futons and wide desks, and some even with two machines. People come here to play video games, chat online, watch movies (there was a DVD selection you could choose from), read manga, play pool, sing karaoke, drink unlimited soda, coffee, and eat soft serve ice cream. Cost was ¥500 for 1 hour, or ¥1100 for 5 hours. And naturally, they're open 24 hours. There was a magazine selection, everything from technology to Asian pornography. All included in the price. Probably an interesting place to visit at 3am.
Internet cafe comes and goes...2 hours later we're back at Hotel Verde in Arao. Off to a restaurant purported to serve basashi - raw horse meat. Not my favorite Japanese dish, but felt I should try it - and Andrew and Jenny were quite excited...who am I to say no? We went, ordered Mr Ed and chicken and salad and sushi. I tried a tiny bit - about the size of a dime...I did swallow, but didn't take a second bite. I was done. Went to the grocery store, bought a gift bag and a bottle of sake to take to my host family, and was done for the night.
Saturday morning, the day started off with a tea ceremony. I made traditional Japanese tea for my host father, Isao; his wife, Etsuko, was performing in the tea ceremony, looking beautiful in her kimono, the younger son, Hikaru, was running around, and the other, Rikaru, was at home asleep. Traditional tea used in the tea ceremony is powdered, so it brews quickly, meaning that it tends to be bitter. This tea was no exception, hence it's always served with some sweets, eaten before the tea. Then we went into the tatami room to experience a truly traditional tea ceremony, prepared by a master who's been doing it for (I'm trying to remember here) 70 years.
After tea, we had lunch with our host family (again, dad and youngest son), and then departed for the host home. Mom was still cleaning up from the tea ceremony, so she came back later. So dad and I sat at the kitchen table and talked: things we like to do, educational systems in Japan and the US, his work as a vice-principal, etc. Mom came home, we all talked, and then went to the grocery store. The list included cheese and vegetables to make a pizza, as well as a sizable hauling of sushi. We returned home, I began making dough, as as it was rising dad and the two sons and I went to see the sunset on top of a mountain home to a Shinto shrine. Beautiful.
Somewhere in here it occurred to me...I'm really relaxed. Their house is, in many ways, Japanese. Slippers or socks are worn indoors; specific slippers are always worn to the toilet; the sons share a room of tatami floor where futons are put down at night. But it's also quite Western: clutter in most corners of the house, signs and labels in English, cuckoo clocks in the kitchen...and did I mention the clutter? It felt very much like being at home.
Dinner was great: baked salmon, a salad, sushi and pizza (which I made for them!). I had a bit of the sake I brought, and dad finished the rest of it. Then we headed out for the department store to do some shopping, which they helped me with - thank god. No way I could have gotten all the information we were being given. Then home...and to the bath.
And this is, frankly (upcoming pun fully intended), where it gets most interesting. First floor, there's the bath room...literally, where the family bathes. I'm told to go first. I go to my room, get my pj's, and return. I close the door, and get undressed...and the door opens...it's the youngest, Hikaru, son who needs to finish brushing his teeth. And he seems to think nothing of the totally naked white guy who's looking rather mortified. 30 seconds later he leaves, I breathe again, and go into the next room, which closes with a shower door, because it is in fact, a very large shower. There's a deep tub, as well as an area of the floor which can drain, where you wash yourself. I turn on the water...and the younger son comes in again. Me, just as mortified. He proceeds to tell me, very nicely, which soap to use for my hair (in Japanese, but with infinitely useful hand gestures) and for my body (likewise, Japanese and universal 'body soap' gestures). And then leaves.
I stand there for a second, laugh out loud, and begin to wash. Things go well, I realize I really like this system. And then the bath. Again, I've been told it's really, really hot. So I put a toe in - I can sacrifice a toe in the name of all that's important to my body...and it's okay. Really okay. Warm, hot even, but bearable. And not even in that one-inch-at-a-time-oh-god-i'm-only-up-to-my-shins kind of bad, but rather the ohhh-nice-I-can-sink-right-in kind of feeling. So I do.
And shortly thereafter I remember the question being asked about baths while we were still in Tokyo...once you get in, how long so you stay? The answer: it's going to be so incredibly hot, you should go for 5 minutes as a goal, but you may not make it. And here I am, in a really wonderful bath, great temperature calm and peaceful, and having lost all sense of time. So a few more deep breaths, a bit of playing with a squirt gun left on the side of the bath (love houses with kids), and I extricate myself, towel off, say my thanks, and go to bed.
The bed stood about 20 inches from the floor, and consisted of 2 tatami mats on a bed frame, with a 2" futon mattress on top. Absolutely wonderful sleep that night. I woke up at 7:15 in the morning, went downstairs for breakfast...and that's where the story stops for the moment. See Homestay Day 2 for the continuation...
posted by kip at 19:04
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