By: Talyn Gray

“Kelly, hurry up! The families are here!” Miko yelled at me as she stumbled out into the hall. I soon followed, haphazardly throwing on the brown slippers and hurrying to the main room where the boys had slept.

For months our small group from the valley had been preparing for our upcoming home-stay program in Japan. We weren’t going to be in the main cities such as Tokyo and Kyoto, but in a small country city that was barely known to the people around it, called Ohtawara. There weren’t any metropolitan buildings or heavy traffic—everything as far as the eye could see was lush green.

Today we were to meet our host families for the first time. I had no idea or what mine would be like. The only information given to my peers and I were their ages and names. In my family there was a seventeen year old girl named Manami, a twenty year old boy named Masato, a grandmother, and, of course, a mother and father by the name of Hiroko and Ryo.

As I entered the room where we were to meet our families as a group, I couldn’t help but wonder what I had gotten myself into. Here I was, thousands of miles away from home; I was going to live with complete strangers for ten days without having the comfort of someone I knew with me. The eleven students that went were separated among the eleven families. My Dad had come with us, but I would hardly see him over the duration of the trip. Not only that, but after the following day, we had two consecutive free days with our families. How was I supposed to act around people I didn’t know? They were supposed to be family, but what does the word family truly entail? What would my sister (Manami) be like? Would she be outgoing? Or reclusive and shy?

I entered the room, shuffling off my slippers as I stepped onto the tatami mats. I already saw a number of husbands and wife’s standing at the other end—all of whom glanced up to look at me. Which one was mine?

They had us seated in a prearranged order on the floor. To my immense relief, I had a seat next to Miko. We discussed things, neither of us knowing what our ‘parents’ looked like.

Finally, Yamashita-sensei decided to start the meeting. She was the principal to our Japanese School. She was a short woman with frazzled, short, black, curly hair. She spoke in Japanese and then in English for us; saying that our parents were the people who were sitting opposite of us. Yamashita-sensei ordered us to stand up and say our names, and we did. It went down the line, starting wit Naoki since he was the youngest, and ended with Miko and I—the eldest.

I looked across the room and found my ‘mother’ sitting there. Unlike some of the other mothers, she didn’t have her husband with her. We made eye contact, and she smiled. I smiled tentatively back, and turned to Miko. “I think that’s my mom,” I told her. Miko pointed to the lady that was sitting next to mine.

“I think that one’s mine,” she responded.

At that time, Kumoi-san stood up and spoke a few words, and Takahashi-sensei translated for us—the students that hardly spoke any Japanese. We didn’t really know who Kumoi-san was. He seemed to appear places where we needed to be, but we never truly understood his importance until towards the end of the trip. Then Ono-san and Onozaki-san stood up and spoke a few words. They were our Japanese chaperones to show us around the city. Finally, Hirayama-san spoke—the president of the Board of Education in Ohtawara. Let me tell you my legs were killing me. If you’ve ever sat on the floor with your legs folded under your butt and not moved for more than ten minutes, you’d understand what I’m talking about.

At last, Yamashita-sensei told us that we were done with the meeting. We all stood up and shook out our legs as the husbands and wives approached us. My mother walked up to me, and I quickly thought that this was a wonderful time to try and use the little Japanese I’d learned.

“Nimotsu?” she asked me. I drew a blank. So much for using my Japanese…

“What?”

“Nimotsu?” she said again, clearly understanding that I didn’t understand. The word sounded familiar, but I still didn’t get it. She began gesticulating her hands in a sweeping movement—maybe it was a zipper? “Nimotsu…” she stated again, looking just as lost as I was.

“She wants your suitcase,” my (real) Dad’s voice came from behind me. I suddenly felt the dawning of understanding break over me.

“Ohhh…” I answered. “Uhm…Uhm…”

“Ato de...” (Later…) my dad attempted. His Japanese was better than mine, but not by much. “Ato de… ii desu ne?” (Later… good, right?) She looked puzzled, and then she suddenly seemed to understand.

“Ah, ah, hai!” (Oh, yes!) she said. “Jaa mata,” (See you later) she said to me, and then walked out the door. I blinked. I’d been hoping that we would have a little more interaction before they left. True, we students still had activities to do that day… but this didn’t give me much hope as to what would come later. Hopefully my ‘sister’ would understand a little English.

After meeting with our parents, the students and the chaperones loaded onto a bus and took off towards an unknown destination. We knew from the schedule that had been given to us that we were to go on a nature walk, but none of us were too excited. It was hot, humid, and sticky. We disembarked into a small parking lot, and commenced our ‘nature walking.’

However hot and humid it was, it was still amazingly beautiful. The green that surrounded us was incredibly bright, and there were wild hydrangeas everywhere. We were taking pictures left and right, and finally, we reached a building. It was a museum dedicated to a man who had traveled all of Japan on foot, and had written some of the most famous haiku in the world.

At the end of the day, we assembled at a place called Piart Hall. This was where our families were to pick us up at six everyday. All of the students were pretty terrified about going home with people they didn’t know.

One by one, the students left. First was Naoki, then Andrew and Jacob, then it was Miko, and almost immediately, my mother’s familiar face showed up at the door. With a farewell to the remaining students, I left with my mother, surprised to find my host-father waiting in the car. He helped me load my stuff into the small trunk, and then we got into the car. I spared one last glance at Piart Hall, silently saying goodbye to the people who were left there.

They talked to each other for a little bit, as a husband and wife would be. The air felt comfortable, but I was still scared. There was one question that was burning in my mind though. You see, in Japan they have these toilets that we had christened ‘squatters.’ The name explained exactly how you used the toilet. They looked like elongated toilet bowls in the floor (yes, in the floor); to use it you had to squat down and hold onto a pole to do your business.

“Ano…” (Uhmmm) I spoke up. “Anata no toire wa…” (Your toilet is…) I trailed off, not knowing how to phrase the rest of my question. “Eeetoh… Uesutaan ka Nihon no?” (Uhhhh… Western or Japan’s?)

I obviously hadn’t phrased it right, but the seemed to understand what I was asking. My mother said (in Japanese) that I’d have to see it, and I dreaded the coming moment, hoping that it was as western toilet rather than a squatter.

They turned into a street that couldn’t really be called a street. It was more like a narrow strip of cement between rice fields that led to a single house that was nestled comfortably in the tanbo. The house was quaint, but very homey looking. It felt warm. My father unloaded my heavy suitcases and we lugged them inside. Immediately, my mother yelled.

“Ne!! Mana!!” (Hey!! Mana!!) she called. “Mana!”

“Nani yo?” (What?) was the reply. Soon a girl around my age appeared, dressed in a baggy shirt and sweatpants. She saw me and immediately started laughing; embarrassed.

I’m not entirely sure what happened next, but the next thing I knew I was being thrown in a room with ‘Mana’ (who I assumed to be Manami) and her two friends. Friends. Why were her friends over? As if I wasn’t terrified enough already. Manami introduced herself, then her two friends, Ayumi and Chihiro.

“Watashi no namae wa Kelly desu,” (My name is Kelly) I informed them. They nodded their heads and looked at each other; each of us was at a loss of what to do. “Ano,” (Uhm) I spoke up, “Eigo wo… hanashimasu ka?” (Do you speak English?) I asked them. They each looked at each other and furiously shook their heads.

“Heta,” (I’m bad at it) Chihiro said. I nodded my head. Oh, holy crap what was I going to do now?

“Manami no Onii-san wa eigo wo hanashimasu ka?” (Can your brother speak English?) I asked Manami. She glanced at the other two girls.

“Zen zen,” (Not at all) she replied.

From then on, Chihiro and Ayumi attempted to talk to me and have a decent conversation, but it took awhile to even understand one question. They told me that I was tall, and I said, “Ah, eeto, watashi wa… hyaku nana juu san centimeter…” (Oh, I’m… 173 cm.) Immdiately, Ayumi looked up.

“Watashi mo.” (Me too.)

“Ah, hontou?” (Really?) I questioned back. All the while being here, I’d never thought I’d run into someone who was as tall as I was. In the U.S. a lot of people were tall, but in Japan most of them were pretty short. Awkward silence once again settled among us for a long time, and I felt my stomach twist from nervousness. Yamashita-sensei had told me pointedly that it was my job to communicate with them. How could I communicate with them when my Japanese was so limited? How could I communicate with them when their English was virtually nonexistent?

I immediately thought of calling my cousin. My real dad had gotten us international phones, and my cousin, Kendall, had lived in Tokyo for most of his life, spoke fluent English and Japanese, and was still currently in Tokyo. But I soon realized that I didn’t have his phone number, and I told myself not to rely on him. If the other students could do it with their families, so could I.

“What kind…” Chihiro spoke up, stopping to think of her words. “Star do you like?”

“Star?” I questioned quizzically. Chihiro glanced to Ayumi and Manami for help, but they offered none.

“Star… eh…. Idol?”

“…celebrity?” I shot into the dark.

“Ah!! Hai, hai!” Chihiro answered. I smiled. I liked many Japanese celebrities. Maybe this was something I could relate to them on.

“Hikaru Utada,” I said. She was one of the most legendary artists in Japan, and yet they still didn’t know who I was talking about. Realizing I’d said her name the ‘American’ way (First name then surname), and quickly said, “Utada Hikaru.”

“Oooh…” the said.

“Ehhto… Kamenashi Kazuya, Taguchi Junnosuke, Akanishi Jin, Hamasaki Ayumi…” I said; they oo-ed when I mentioned the first three guys.

“Kamenashi?” Ayumi said. I nodded and she quickly shuffled over to Manami’s television and picked up a piece of paper and showed it to me. “Sign,” she told me. I understood. It was an autograph.

“Waaa, sugoi,” (Woooow) I commented with a grin. God, what I would give to meet Kamenashi Kazuya…and get his autograph. Lucky Manami.

“KAT-TUN?” Ayumi asked. KAT-TUN was a Japanese boy band that included all of the three boys that I had previously named.

“Ehh, daisuki,” (Yeah, I love them) I answered.

I asked them what kind of things they liked and they didn’t know how to answer. I knew it was a broad question, but they could answer with anything. Instead of telling me what they liked, they asked me if I liked sports, in which I responded (stupidly, I might add), that I kind of hated sports. I asked them if they liked sports and all three answered that they loved it. Feeling thoroughly moronic, I just nodded, not knowing what to say.

“Taiko!” Chihiro exclaimed suddenly. Taiko was Japanese drumming. “Do you…taiko?” she asked me, giggling at herself for her broken English.

“Uhmm…” I answered. I knew it would be too complicated to say that I used to do taiko, but stopped because I got hit in the head. I attempted to say that I did it awhile ago, but they didn’t seem to understand. They changed the subject to my friends and asked me if I had pictures of them. Finally, something I had!

Yamashita-sensei had told us to bring pictures because the Japanese kids had never really seen Americans (I was dubious of this fact but had brought pictures anyway). They looked at them and nodded, and finally, Manami’s mom called us for dinner.

I wasn’t hungry—in fact I felt nauseous. Her mother had made pizza, and I felt guilty for only eating one slice. I knew that it was rude to only eat so little, but I explained (or at least attempted to explain) that I had eaten a large lunch.

I took a shower in their bathroom and got ready for bed. In Japan it was 10:00pm, but in the US it was about 2:00 in the morning—yesterday. Finally, the mom showed me the bathroom. It was a squatter. Having a squatter meant I had to learn to use one.

“Daijoubu?” (Is it okay?) she asked me.

“E-eh… daijoubu.” (Y-yeah… it’s fine.)

I went back into the room that they gave me and stared at the folded blankets in the corner. I knew they were there for me to make a futon, but I had no idea how… I felt too awkward to go back into Manami’s room, a girl could only handle so much fraying of the nerves in one day. Suddenly, I remembered that I had brought a pack of Pop Rocks with me. Yamashita-sensei told us to bring something for the kids and the friends and the neighbors who would all come to gawk at us because we were American. I could give that to Manami and her friends…

There was a knock at the sliding door. “Hai?” (Yes?) I called. It slid open and Manami and her friends stood there.

“Futon…” they said. “Know… how use?” they asked me. I fervently shook my head, and they nodded and set up the futon for me. I observed and thanked them. They paused in the doorway and asked if I was going to sleep or if I wanted to play a game with them. I didn’t know how to reply and just said ‘OK.’ They took that as me wanting to play the game, so we went back into Manami’s room, but in the short area that connected Manami’s room to mine, stood a tall, skinny boy.

“Ah! Kelly,” my mother said. “Mana no tomodachi.” (Manami’s friend)

“Furendo,” he volunteered, attempting to translate for me.

“Oh,” I said, knowing that I was supposed to bow and say some formality, but for the moment, it left me. To completely tell the truth, I felt a little embarrassed meeting anyone in my pajamas; they really weren’t even pajamas, just a big shirt and my old gym shorts. Not to mention I wasn’t wearing a bra. I had automatically assumed that there would only be girls in the house that night. (Minus the father)

Chihiro, Ayumi, and Manami talked to him as we went into her room. Not long after, another one of Manami’s guy-friends came over, and once again I felt embarrassed to meet anyone in my sorry excuse for pajamas. They finally introduced themselves, in English!

“Call me Shuu,” the first tall one said. I nodded.

“Shuu.”

“Call me Kimu. Kim,” the second one told me. He was skinnier than Shuu was, but both of them had the same buzz cut for hair.

“Kim?”

“Haaai.”

From that point we played MarioKart. It was easy for me—I’d played the game religiously when it first came out. I found out that Toad’s original name was Kinoko, and I managed to beat all of them except for Kim. I had no idea how he kept beating me without fail, without using the secrets, and making me get into fourth instead of second place.

I remembered the Pop Rocks I had in my bag, and told them that I had a present for all of them. I went and grabbed five bags of Pop Rocks. I returned and handed it to them, they took it, thanked me, and stared at it.

“Candy,” I explained shortly.

“OH!” they exclaimed in unison and opened it. It was the kind with the lollipop—sour apple too. “Itadakimasu…” (I humbly accept this food…)

Shuu was the first to try it……and he swallowed it too soon. He ended up making the funniest faces I’d ever seen on someone I’d just met.

Kim tried it next………and he swallowed it too soon as well. He seemed to take the fizz a little bit harder that Shuu had. Not only did he make faces, but he was stomping on the floor, and I finally felt compelled enough to ask, “…daijoubu?” (…are you okay?)

The girls broke out in laughter, obviously not expecting me to speak, and Kim held up a hand as if to brush it off, “D-daijoubu, daijoubu,” (I’m f-fine, fine.) he assured me. They continued to eat it, and I had to wonder if they were masochistic or if they just didn’t want to be rude.

“You have to leave it on your tongue,” I told them when I couldn’t take looking at their strained faces. They didn’t know what the heck I was saying, so I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out. “Eab it on yo ton!” I took my tongue back in and repeated, “Leave it on your tongue!”

They nodded and promptly put the lollipop back in their mouths…and swallowed the Pop Rocks.

I sighed inwardly to myself and knew that this ten day trip to Japan would be an adventure.

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A/N: This was the second day I had in Japan. (the first day was filled of sleeping and traveling) :D I changed some names for the sake of privacy. Reading it now it seems rushed, but it was originally for school and my teacher didn’t want it too long. I’ll probably write more about it later—like the fact that they tried to tell me a Japanese joke and that Shuu rode a motorbike… and he was kind of cute, despite the fact that he was probably 20 pounds lighter than me and I looked like a wet rat XD ;D