Host Families are just Host Families

It’s late. We were sitting in the old bar by the Kamogawa River, drinking cold beer, chatting about class, and our host families. Marissa wasn’t happy with her Okaasan and complained that her Okaasan was sometimes too overbearing – of course she wasn’t. Marissa liked to whine sometimes. Her Okaasan was a very nice lady, who only wanted to be Marissa’s friend and mother during our time in Kyoto. Everyone, the Otousan, and the two brothers, very much treated Marissa like their family. So very unlike my host family – living as though I was just a presence that fleeted in and out of the house, who needed to be fed and housed. Of course, we were all polite to each other. Maybe it was because it was my first time living with a family that wasn’t my own. No. I can’t even blame it on that.

When I was 8, we moved to the U.S. While my parents were in California, my siblings and I lived with our Uncle’s family. Though Grandmother and Grandfather lived there as well – and many times protected us – remembered to feed us and to make sure we had everything necessary for school, it was still difficult living with people who really didn’t want you living with them. We were like the poor cousins and oftentimes, made fun of by our American cousins – who couldn’t wait to tease us in English, knowing we couldn’t understand a word they said. I remember the first night we arrived. A cousin asked me something – are you a virgin? I didn’t understand – but my older sister by four years, who had taken English in France, did, and sternly told me not to answer. Later, in the basement room, on the full sized bed we four sisters shared, she would explain to me.

The morning after I arrived, my host family’s dog died. That night, we had a ceremony for him. He was a stray that wandered into their yard one day – and the family decided to keep him. Though old, they were excited to have a dog, and even Mari-Oneesan had planned to get a puppy to keep the old dog company. The day after the funeral ceremony, they welcomed home their new puppy – Ruru-chan. Their family was not only expanding – my Oniisan and his wife were expecting again – but they were dealing with Oniisan’s 8 month old son, who had just had surgery to elongate his intestines, and were also preparing for Mari-Oneesan’s wedding. Though the wedding wasn’t until May – and it was only September, there were endless preparations Mother and Daughter needed to make.

In the midst of all this, I arrived and very little time could be devoted to me. Maybe I sensed this – and my weekends (Fridays – Sundays) were purposefully filled to ease the loneliness I sometimes felt living in their house. I think that perhaps, they may have also felt a sort of relief – that they didn’t have to occupy my time. Maybe I’m wrong about all of these things – one’s perceptions can get so distorted and personal sometimes. It’s all about me. But I’d rather think that was the reason – rather than they didn’t like me. Of course, I can’t say they didn’t like me – in fact, they threw me my 21^st birthday party and had me invite my friends. And for New Year’s, I received money from Papa and Mama as well. More importantly, I was invited to Mari-Oneesan’s wedding – even though I didn’t have to be invited.

Andrew laughed loud and teased Marissa. Come on – your hair looks great, he said. Marissa told me he had asked her out. She said no, of course, and that was that. Marissa is vain and Andrew was not someone in her league. He’s a nerd, she whispered and giggled. I laughed, and told her we were nerds too. It’s getting late – I tell them. Let’s go? We walked out of the tiny establishment and walked towards the Kamogawa. We’ll walk you to there – and you can catch your train – we tell Andrew. Marissa and I took the same train – though going opposite directions. She north and I south – so walking back towards the campus to catch our train would be safe.

It’s dark, but warm still outside. We get to the river bank and Andrew suggests skipping across the stones laid out in the river rather than walk the bridge to cross the river. I laugh and tell him if he falls in, we wouldn’t rescue him. Little did I know that the water was only calf high. He laughed too and skipped anyway until we called to him and told him not to be stupid. Okay, okay, he said and came back. He left on his way, and Marissa and I walked back towards our train station. We each stand on the opposite sides of the tracks. She waves at me and I wave back at her. Her train comes and so does mine.