This is Me

This is me, with my family.
But not my family, my host family.
Mother, father, and daughter, and I.
Standing in front of their tiny Japanese house in tiny Isesaki, Japan.
I tower over Daughter and Mother, and only a half an inch taller than Father.

This is me, my hair wavy and curly, not due to the heat, but because I haven't straightened my hair in weeks.
Wearing the ugly green shirt made to keep track of my group.
This is me, smiling wide and broad as my family keeps their tiny smiles.
Me, with my blonde hair, blue eyes, and tall figure, standing out like a sore thumb in this country.

This is me, after a week of living with them, trying to speak, and mostly failing.
Being embarrassed at the fact that I dunk my cookies in milk.
That I can't find clothes my size when shopping.
Not eating breakfast, not eating lunch, and not eating dinner.
Not because I don't want to, I'm just not used to the food.

This is me before I return home,
on the nine hour flight across the ocean, four hours to Dallas, two hours back to Springfield.
To go back, work on my language skills, and prepare for another hosting in the summer.
Texting and Facebooking across the globe.

This is me, homesick for a place I wasn't home to.