Foggy Homestay
Melida Maldonado (Marble Hill School for International Studies)
While walking out of the Hokkaido subway, lugging my oversized suitcase, I was unaware of what I
would see around the next corner. Being in a new country, Japan, gave me the motivation to try as many
new things as possible. However, I was hesitant about the host family stay. After hearing home stay horror
stories from past students, not only was I apprehensive, but I was dreading the next ten days of my
Japanese home stay.

As I stood with my luggage staring in awe at the anxious crowd of host families, I eventually located
the family holding up the sign that read “Melida.” When I approached them, I was so overwhelmed that I
tried to greet my host mother with a hug. Unfortunately, my unannounced hug startled her, because in
Japanese culture, touching strangers is not customary. Considering that I was in a foreign country, I was
aware that I would make mistakes. However, the awkward and embarrassing moment of my host mother
backing away from my hug only increased my pessimism about the home stay. My biggest fear, other than
committing any further mistakes, was enduring awkward silences between me and the family. I knew the
language well enough to get by, but I was limited to the things I knew how to say. This caused us to resort
to sign language for things we did not know how to express. The language barrier seemed like it was going
to be an issue for the rest of my stay.

It was not until the day my host father took me to JR Tower, the tallest building in Sapporo, that I
started to appreciate my host family. As I was looking at the foggy mountains in the distance, I asked my
host father for the Japanese word for “fog,” just out of curiosity. He replied, “kiri” and then asked for the
English word. After listening to the English word, he stood thinking and then it was as if a light bulb
clicked on in his mind. He realized the meaning of the English words in his car, “fog light.” Soon after, he
excitedly told his wife and some friends about his discovery.

At the time, I could not believe the enthusiasm he had for learning such a small word. However,
throughout my days in Japan, we both demonstrated this same level of excitement when we had
conversations where neither of us knew what the other was saying, but we learned a new word or phrase.

Finding different ways to communicate and get our message across helped clear up the fog I had endured at
the beginning of my experience. I realized that as much as I love learning the mechanics of languages, that
was not the only way I was going to convey an emotional connection. There is so much more to learning
languages than just memorization of words and grammar patterns. It is how one uses their skills to clarify
misunderstandings between different cultures in order to help others. Knowing that I helped my host father
understand English words expanded my love for languages. My will to teach and learn in Japan, even
though I made mistakes along the way, granted us both a cross-cultural education.

When the end of my home stay grew near, I realized how much I had underestimated my experience.

Even though I was raised bi-lingual, I had been afraid of living in a home where communication would be a
challenge. However, in those ten days, I became determined to incorporate my affinity for the Japanese
language into my future career and think before I throw myself into any other person’s arms as a greeting.

Holding back tears, I packed my bags on the last day, reluctant to say goodbye to the family I had
been so hesitant to meet. As I made my way to the train station, my host mother slipped her hand into mine
for support. Before I boarded my train, she embraced me with the biggest hug— surprising for a person
who originally stepped away from my hug. Right there and then, I knew that being part of this family was a
risk worth taking.

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