tempura dinner at stranger's house

So, after soaking in the onsen with four old guys who acted as if a talking ape intruded into their bathhouse (not rude, but politely taken aback--much like how you'd treat a talking ape), i asked a woman if there was a food vending machine and she more or less immediately invited me to dinner. She asked me if i liked tempura (and who would say no?), and then bid me wait half an hour for her to return. I was never taught properly how to politely refuse enough times to legitimize a social transaction of this magnitude, but i managed to refrain from accepting immediately and admitting to my traveler's hunger pangs. As proof of her allegiance to the plan, she left me with her freshly vended green tea, then ran away, and i was suddenly drinking a cup of my own tea on tatami with a few obaasans (grandmas) and a television blaring some news about a recent politician's suicide. When she returned, trailing behind her were 5 more people--the rest of her family--two girls, her husband, and two old ladies of whose relation to the family i was not clear (two grandmas?). I was especially confused when we all sat down and an even older lady joined us, of a hundred years of age. The dinner was delicious--nearly all vegetarian even though i never mentioned any such desire--and the father was fastidiously insistent on refilling my beer glass to the very top. After dinner he asked me if i liked imo shochu (potato liquor--and who would say no?), praised me for not wanting to dilute it with water as he usually does, and began pouring me copious servings of the stuff. The oldest woman i ever met sat on the other end of the table and intermittently shouted indecipherable words at me while making hand gestures. There were only two she used--one was poking her palm and then clapping with a firm countenance followed by a smile, and the other was miming pulling food from a plate and pushing it into her mouth. I kept telling her i was full, and thank you, and anything to get her eyes off of me, but the daughter told me she couldn't hear very well. So i just smiled back. This whole affair reminds me very much of my visit to a friend's house in Tokushima, except that this time i was having actual conversations (however simple) with people. All in all it was pretty frightening (no one spoke more than 3 words of English), but as satisfying as watching one's feet heal after walking on hot coals. Well, more satisfying than that because tempura and imo shouchu were involved. They've invited me to a "party" tonight, and i am quite sure there will be more to be said later. Today i plan to find some nature.