Finally, sharing host family's bathwater: bliss!

by Dan Knowlton

When I first traveled to Japan, there was much to learn, and four different and confusing generational variances of a foreign language in which to learn them. I was a junior in college then, and despite two years of studying classroom Japanese, the thick Kyoto accents of my host family stood like a wall between us. My host grandmother never spoke above a mumble while my host nieces and nephews spoke in shrill voices and little kid slang. My host mother formed words at a dizzying pace using mostly local dialect phrases while my host father mostly smiled and nodded. I had one host brother whose attempted English was like a new language of its own, and two host sisters who giggled every time I attempted Japanese. Yet, this was my family. This was my home for one year, my window into a wholly new country and culture.

My first breakthrough didn't come in direct communication. It happened in the bathtub. Japanese people love their baths, and a family's bathing order and etiquette is of utmost importance. As an American, I was accustomed to taking quick showers, and I did this in lieu of sitting in my host family's tub for my first several weeks in Japan. Then, one night, my host mother walked me into their spacious bathroom and explained how to heat and soak in the bathwater. Because they clean up before soaking in the bath, the whole family shares the same tub of water, one by one, in order to conserve water and energy. The father in the family almost always goes first, while the water is at its warmest, cleanest state. But that night, I was invited to soak first. From then on, I almost always took a dip in the family bath before heading to bed, whether I was the first one in or the last one out. That welcoming into the family's daily routine brought me into their lives in a close and personal way, and I finally felt that, in the midst of a new and strange place, I had found a home.

Sharing my host family’s bathwater and many more welcoming experiences from friends and strangers opened me up to a whole new culture and taught me much about myself. I learned that, in the midst of a confusing place where even the most basic events felt different and new, I could still feel at home with a little bit of patience, confidence, and faith. I learned to seek out those new experiences and friendships that might not be comfortable at first, but would teach me something new. Best of all, I learned that even halfway across the world, you can find strangers who will welcome you into their home and become family. I still remember my last day in Kyoto, holding my hand up to the taxi's glass window while my host mother placed her hand over mine, with farewell tears in her eyes.

Finally, sharing host family's bathwater: bliss!