Profile: Father (65), mother (59), daughter (29), and their son (33) who lives in Tokyo. They are the 林 family, living in 袖ヶ浦市 （千葉県).We were splitted into 2 groups. I met the 29 year old daughter, 涼子, who picked me up at the train station. She was far different from the picture. One of the most deceiving factor about Japanese girls is their physical appearance. No matter how active they look on a ski trip or volleyball class, they will always be at their most feminine side (physically) on the streets.
We were escorted to a restaurant by the leaders of this homestay event. Alongside, there were about 30 other students and homestay families. Sitting Japanese-style （正座）is my worst nightmare. I managed to stretch my legs under the table to only find that I cannot sit at a 90 degree angle. Lunch was delicious. There were tempura, sushi, and a few other fancy dishes. Like a typical gathering in Japan, we gave brief self-introductions.
Arriving at the house, after the normal respective greetings to the mother, we joined her at the kotatsu (a Japanese style table with a comforter on top, heated underneath). Because it is not common to have central heating in Japan, there are various heaters and furnitures for heating purposes. By the end of "tea time," my legs were numb because we had to sit on the floor cushions.
They live in a big, Japanese-style house. On the first floor, there is a kitchen, a 和室, a living room, a "bathroom," and a "washroom." I stayed at the 和室 with tatami. The family owns 2 cars, along with a parking space nearby the house. At last, there is a 2nd floor that I did not visit.
Because I don't have a television, I couldn't help but glance over at it whenever I can. We ate the donuts along with hot coffee. The father returned from work before sunset on a Saturday. The family is easygoing.
I spent the day shopping at supermarkets, and preparing dinner with the mother and daughter. By merely 5 pm, we gathered around with red wine and beer. We had sushi, onigiri, kimchi (because I told them I like spicy food), and a fish and vegetable 鍋.
At first, the father spoke as if I knew fluent Japanese. The pace of our conversations picked up by dinner time. It is either because I just agree with them, our conversational topics were getting in depth, or they were buzzed. Our conversations included why I had chosen the Japanese language, problems that I have encountered as a foreigner, places I have visited in Tokyo, my family lifestyle, etc. In addition, the family like to "show off" any English or Chinese words they know.
There is always one thing that I thought I could avoid for my whole life. Of all the things I would do to assimilate into the culture, I did not want to try 納豆. I have heard and read stories of various experiences with these fermented soybeans. In the end, I tried it, in a sushi roll with mint leaf. (I could have been really pathetic, like the textbooks, and say, "Although it is my first time, I'll take out my courage to try it." I decided otherwise.) My first bite, everyone was observing my facial expressions fixedly. It must've changed every millisecond. I couldn't tell if it was the unfamiliar taste of the mint leaf or the 納豆 that I did not like. They discouraged me to continue, and I placed it down.
By the end of dinner, the father had passed out because of the oh-so-(not)-big bottle of beer. I was then given the privilege to take the first dip of the bathtub. (It is common to share one tub of bath water per night throughout the family.) It felt great considerating I was shivering from cold throughout dinner.
My room was well heated by the end of my bath. For the rest of the night, I watched television and emailed Rob (story later.)
The next morning, I had a feast with the family. Humorously, the mother gave me milk (and I was the only one to receive it). I guess, that's the stereotype. By 9:35, I was on the train to go back home.
