Today was my homestay. I checked out of my room in the Olympic Center and prepared myself for what I figured would be among the top ten awkward experiences in my life. Which is saying a lot because I have incredibly awkward experiences on a fairly regular basis. After getting off the metro at the stop I was supposed to meet my host family, I recognized the husband, Susumu, from a picture his wafe, Maki, sent me. My first sight of Susumu was him trying to find me based on a picture he had on, yes, you guessed it, his iPhone. God hates me.
**As it turns out both Make and Susumu had iPhones, and love them nearly as much as I did mine. When I broke the news that mine had vanished somewhere in Japan, they both looked at me with horror and sadness. “I can understand your sadness,” Maki said to me. Coming from this cute little Japanese woman, I could see the understanding in her eyes and it almost made me feel better for a second.**
We hopped in a taxi and headed over to meet his wife, Maki at a new years celebration concert of traditional Japanese music. Killer. Once we arrived I had a plate set for me at a table that was no more than two feet off the ground. I have to admit that despite sitting Indian style (a position I haven’t been comfortable with since I was 6) for two hours causing incredible discomfort from my back to my toes, the concert wasn’t bad. Halfway through Maki even told Susumu and I to escape before we get too bored. We left the music center and walked through some garden. After about 20 minutes we both gave each other a look that said, “We’ll this is fairly awkward, how about heading back to the music hall?”
On the way home after the concert we stopped at a grocery store to get some ingredients for some Nabe, or Japanese stew, that Maki would prepare for dinner. As we walked around the store I watched as every ingredient Maki grabbed made my stomach turn. The only thing that stopped me from sprinting out of there and laying down on the subway tracks was the entertainment I got from watching Susumu really get his body moving to “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” and the “Ghostbusters” song blazing from the supermarket speakers. However, I digress. For those of you unfamiliar with my eating habits, I live nearly exclusively off fast food. While my horrible eating habits have gotten a little better as of late (now I will not pick off lettuce and tomato from cheeseburgers), adventurous eater is surely a description that no one will ever use to describe me. The first three ingredients we picked up? Three different types of mushroom, a variety of leaves, and cod (complete with scales). After Maki reached for the tofu and asked me how I liked it, I had to speak up. “Please don’t be offended if I don’t eat everything, I’m kind of picky.” Translation: “Don’t hate me when I throw up your food after forcing it down with my nose plugged and fighting back vomit while trying to limit the number disgusted faces I am sure to make.” I gotta hand it to Maki though, the Nabe was dope. I didn’t eat any of the mushrooms or tofu, but delighted myself in enjoying three bowls of the rest of the ingredients (even the cod).
After dinner Susumu and I cracked some beers, watched the Celtics-Cavs game and talked Boston sports (he spent two years in Boston) while getting toasted. Kudos Maki and Susumu, it feels like home.
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