Tales of a second family, connected by heart
Coming to Yamagata, Japan from Australia, one of the first cultural shocks I experienced was the dining table. My host family was a lively bunch of five: my host father, mother, and my bright and slightly mischievous host sisters, Saki and Yui.
Our first dinner was a feast of dishes I had never seen before. White rice in small bowls, miso soup, grilled fish, simmered vegetables, pickles… Back home, our meals were mostly one-plate affairs, so seeing all these small dishes lined up was a new experience.
But to be honest, the first few weeks were full of confusion. I was clumsy with chopsticks, and I didn’t know how to deal with fish bones. The slimy texture and unique smell of natto (fermented soybeans) were a real challenge. Even the crispy texture of nori (dried seaweed) served at breakfast initially felt like I was eating paper.
After the meals, my host family would always ask with a smile, “O腹いっぱい？ (Are you full?)” But I often held back and replied, “はい、大丈夫です (Yes, I’m okay),” even when I was still a little hungry. The unfamiliar food just made it difficult to eat much.
My host family must have noticed my hesitation. One evening, my host mother gently said to me, “もし、食べられないものがあったら、無理しなくていいんだよ。いつでも言ってね (If there’s something you can’t eat, you don’t have to force yourself. You can always tell us).” Those words were such a relief.
From then on, I started to express my feelings little by little. “これはちょっと苦手です (I’m not so keen on this one),” “これは美味しいです！ (This is delicious!),” I’d say with my clumsy Japanese and gestures. My family would always respond with a smile. Saki and Yui would teach me how to use chopsticks in funny ways, and my host father was always curious about food from my country.
Before I knew it, I had come to love Japanese food. The gentle sweetness of white rice, the warmth of miso soup, the delicate flavors of dishes made with seasonal ingredients. The time we spent around the dining table, saying “美味しいね! (This is delicious!)” together, became the most precious time for me.
Now, I love both natto and nori. The dining table with my host family isn’t just a place to eat; it’s a place for communication that goes beyond words, and an irreplaceable time where I can feel the warmth of “Home.” I’m so glad I plucked up the courage back then to say “delicious” and “not so keen.”
