I do as he says, taking a suitcase to make it look good and I call him and tell him that I am coming over. His house is about a quarter of a mile off ...he road and is hidden by a forest of trees.I get out and hurriedly go up toto his porch. It is still light outside and I ring his bell. I hear footsteps and the door opens. It is not Bud. It is a young, tall, thin black guy. “Come on in. Bud is in the shower.” This young man appears to be in his early 20’s. He is wearing shorts and a basketball. A few minutes later, Sakurako and an older woman, who I assumed was Sensei Hiro’s wife, came into the room carrying trays with our lunches. I was careful to watch the others, as both Mitsuko and Ailea had warned me that not only were there differences between how Americans and Japanese ate Japanese food, but there were regional variations as to what was proper. I simply copied what I saw and when nobody reprimanded or corrected me, assumed I’d followed it at least well enough.One thing I was. More

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