I went to Japan with an American friend who speaks Japanese near fluently. In college, he lived with two exchange students who became his close friends. When we decided to visit, one of his friends offered a place to stay.

My host family had a large house in Ōyama, outside of Tokyo. I had my own room (with a heater, it was winter remember?) with my own bathroom. Better yet, “okasan” made us breakfast everyday and dinner when we were home. There was no dearth of luxury. My first morning there she made me a “western” breakfast as a joke and laughed at me. They laughed at me often, like when I stepped on the genkan with my socks on or when I needed subtitles to watch anime with their son, but it was always in good taste. It was charming. They insisted that I learn, and taught me when I did something wrong, but they never scolded me. I spent long nights talking to them through my friend–it was the most memorable part of Japan. I believe they liked Americans, and appreciated how naive I was. They took it as an opportunity to show me how wonderful Japanese culture (not the unusual and quirky) is.

Hope that gives you a quick idea of what it was like!