Ah, the Memories

My old host family invited me over for dinner last night. We barbequed, we drank, the neighbor woman told stories about her dog, Okasan made fun of Otosan for losing his tooth eating mochi, we ate more, we drank more, Shin-chan wore himself out begging for food, the sakura tree dropped petals in our sauce, we laughed at Otosan's cooking skills, we lamented the lives of the single women, the mothers carried on in Kansai-ben, the fathers stood around with knowing smiles, we ate the leftovers, the daughters cleaned up, I served chrysanthemum tea, we snacked on warabi mochi, the neighbors left, we had coffee, Otosan went to bed, and the rest of us visitors left with extremely full stomachs.

I realized two very important things during the course of the evening.

Firstly, despite often feeling like my Japanese is horrendous, it has improved tremendously since those first few days with Okasan two years ago. They have a new host student right now whose Japanese is worse than mine was. Seeing her struggle with even the simplest of questions, her blank looks and stuttered responses, was like watching myself. I remember when the only two words I could confidently use were "wakaranai" (I don't understand) and "daijobu"(I'm/It's okay). I remember when the whole world was inhabited by people who spoke jibberish. I sat there last night listening to the neighbor woman talk at incredible speeds in the Kansai dialect, and I thought, 'No wonder Japanese is so difficult.'

Secondly, it is really great to sit around and be part of families and friends chatting and laughing and bickering and telling stories. I really missed the back and forth banter, the teasing, and the smiling. It was like sitting in on the lives of a perfect family in a friendly neighborhood. I knew that even though I didn't have my own chopsticks anymore, there was always room for me at the table.