Yueran Ding: Shamisen Lesson

Based on my interest in musical instruments and previous experience in playing the flute, cello, and piano, I decided to learn a traditional Japanese instrument for my CIP. Learning shamisen(三味線) with Iwasaki sensei seems to me a natural choice given that she has already taught many KCJS students koto(琴) or shamisen before, and I find my experience learning with her as rewarding as I expected.

At first, I thought I was going to a “private lesson” once a week, but it turned out that for the most of the time I participated in a “group practice”. In the first three weeks, Iwasaki sensei taught me and another student from KCJS some shamisen basics, and those were the only “private lessons” that I had. Three weeks later, she let us join the large group and practice with other senior students, all of whom were in their sixties, seventies and even eighties. I realized that the group practice was indeed a perfect opportunity for me to observe how Japanese, especially Japanese seniors behaved during practice. I once supposed they would be very serious just like what I had seen in in television shows or movies how tea masters giving lessons, but I was wrong. The vibe of the group practice was in fact lighthearted. My classmates loved to tell jokes and especially joked about their ages a lot. When a student who was about my grandma’s age pretended(ぼけ) that she was 20, and another student would point out(突っ込み) her actual age in a funny tone, making everybody else laugh. Iwasaki sensei encouraged such relaxing atmosphere to make sure everybody feel happy and enjoy the practice.

One of the reasons that I came to Kyoto was that I wanted to learn a little Kansai-ben, which means dialect in the Kansai area, so I was excited to discover that the teacher and students here all talked in Kansai-ben. Before I came to Kyoto, the only source where I could hear Kansai-ben was Japanese variety shows, so I used to feel that Kansai-ben was hilarious yet might sound a little disrespectful sometimes. However, students here talked to Iwasaki sensei in Kansai-ben with honorific expressions. For example, they would use “食べはる” and “~してはる”, and always talk with “です””ます” ending. This surprised me because my observation here during the group practice broke my stereotype in the way that Kansai-ben could also be respectful. Interestingly, when I got used to hearing Kansai-ben, I started to feel that talking in Kansai-ben with honorific expressions was actually an ideal way to communicate since the speaker would be able to speak in a relatively intimate tongue while showing respect at the same time.

When it was close to dinner time, Iwasaki sensei often invited her students to go for a dinner with her, so I was also able to eat with my warm-hearted classmates. Although all at the age of my grandfathers and grandmothers, they were still energetic, loved to joke around, and even ate more than I do (wow!). Thanks to such opportunities, I was able to observe how Japanese interact when they were at a group dinner. I noticed that Iwasaki sensei and my classmates never poured liquor by themselves but instead always poured liquor for others all the time. When everybody finished eating, Iwasaki sensei would collect about 1000 yen from each student (but not me or other KCJS students, probably because we were too young to earn money yet…or because she wanted to care for new students? ) and pay at the cashier by herself.

Learning shamisen with Iwasaki sensei makes a perfect CIP for me. I was invited by her to join other students to perform as a group on December 8th, which would enable me to show what I have learned during the past three months-a perfect end for this amazing experience. I not only learned how to play Shamisen, but also had a great experience participating in a small Japanese community, observing how people behaved and interacting with them. I would genuinely recommend Iwasaki sensei and her shamisen/koto lesson to anybody who is interested in Japanese musical instrument, or just want to have a great time experiencing Japanese society and culture.

Heather Heimbach: Kurama Fine Arts Circle

Doshisha Kurama Fine Arts Circle is exactly how it sounds — the fine arts circle of Doshisha University. Many of the members seem to be studying art at Doshisha, either as an art history major or fine arts. There is a regular meeting once a week, where members gather and practice a type of fine art together. Usually, it is drawing or painting, and the theme is set. In spring semester, I believe that they did more still life drawings. This semester, however, they are preparing for EVE, Doshisha’s cultural festival, during which they plan to sell caricatures and portraits. In preparation for selling caricatures and portraits, all of the weekly meetings I have been to have been dedicated to drawing face portraits.

There are also meetings outside of the regular meetings in preparation for the cultural festival. I went to help only once, and after that it hasn’t fit into my schedule well. One observation about the Doshisha circles is that they are much more active than clubs at my home University. By active, I mean people seem to have a lot more free time to spend at the circle, so they hang out in the clubroom or help prepare for events outside of “regular meeting” times. Some people seem to spend nearly everyday preparing for the festival–which is something that is difficult for KCJS students due to the level of homework, and in turn made me feel guilty for not being able to help out more. From what I’ve heard from Japanese students, the level of work is not that much in college, and so hanging around a circle for a long time is feasible for many of them. 

However, hearing other members talk about the festival preparations, as well having participating in the preparation, has been an interesting experience. As American universities don’t commonly have big college-wide festivals as they do in Japan, I did not realize how much work every circle puts into preparing for the festival. Furthermore, senpai-kouhai relationships become very clear during the preparation, because even if kouhai are taking on a management position, the senpai oversees the kouhai, and always has the final word. The senpai in Kurama often took on roles that no one else wanted to do, and his wallet was used for a lot of the shopping for the event (though the funds used are club funds). Many of the members called him not by his name, but simply “senpai.” Although of course there are multiple upperclassmen in the club, that particularly senpai was referred to as “senpai.”  He was also good about reaching out and welcoming all the members, including teaching me how to play tetris on their game station.

I’m not really a fan of senpai-kouhai relationships, but it was interesting to see the hierarchy in the club. Also, almost all of the members, except for the fourth-years, used desu-masu form when talking. However, no one used the special keigo phrases, like shiteirasshaimasu, as that would most likely be considered laughable.

The good thing is that the regular meetings are fairly easy to get the gist of if you have done art class before. However, many of the members are pretty quiet, though a few are talkative, and many people don’t talk that much while drawing. My advice is that you probably shouldn’t join this circle unless you love art, because otherwise, it could be difficult to enjoy the circle time.

Zack Even: Volunteering at a Kodomo Shokudo

At the start of the program, I was unsure of what I wanted to do for my CIP. I had mentioned in the KCJS questionnaires that I was interested in participating in an activity involving cooking, and Nakata Sensei suggested that I work at a kodomo shokudo, a cafeteria where members of the community, particularly families with kids, can come for a free meal.

I tried calling a few kodomo shokudo’s in the area, and, after handing off the phone to Nakata Sensei almost immediately in the first call, I managed my way through the second on my own and found a shokudo that needed volunteers. With a limited amount of information about the cafeteria – just the name of one of the volunteers, its location, and a time I should arrive by – I set out the following Friday for the first time.

Because I knew very little about what to expect, I was nervous on my first day. Even finding the shokudo was a bit difficult: it is much smaller than I anticipated, located within an unassuming house. I waited for a few minutes along the street until someone appeared whom I could ask. Luckily, she was one of the volunteers.

Working at the shokudo has improved my Japanese language and allowed me to apply it in a way I rarely get to in class – to discuss food and cooking. My CIP has also introduced me to a number of interesting people, including the two kind women who run the shokudo, an economics professor at Doshisha, and a man who works in computer graphics, whom I met up with outside the shokudo to talk about computer animation. By preparing food alongside the women who run the shokudo, my vocabulary relating to food improved, along with my miming skills, which I could always fall back on if I didn’t understand what they had asked me to do. I also got to interact with kids who came to the shokudo. While my host family has a two-month-old baby whom I love having around, obviously I cannot communicate with her yet, so the shokudo gave me an opportunity – to practice my language with children – that I would not otherwise have had.

While, as a foreigner, I often felt a bit like the odd one out at the dinners, I also felt like I was truly participating in and even contributing to the community. As the woman who runs the shokudo asked me when my last day would be, I felt a sense of pride knowing that to a small degree they had come to depend on my help. While it seems that, at least at this particular shokudo, some families come simply to enjoy the community atmosphere, others seem to rely on the Friday dinners. Like in the US and any other countries, a portion of families in Japan cannot afford enough food for their children – one in seven, Nakata Sensei informed me. The shokudo guarantees them at least one stress-free, pleasant meal a week, and I enjoyed being able to help create that meal for the families who came.

Antonio Mckinney: Koto Lessons

This past semester, for my CIP project, I had the opportunity to take koto lessons at Greenwich House. Learning how to play the koto has been a long time desire of mine so I was excited to start classes, to say the least. Through one of the Japanese teachers who also takes classes at Greenwich House I was put in contact with Iwasaki Sensei and soon after had my first class.

When I arrived on the first day, I was warmly greeted by two of Iwasaki Sensei’s experienced students who began to show me the rendition of Sakura and a number of other folk songs that I would be practicing for the next semester. It’s a little embarrassing to admit but when I arrived that day, because I was expecting the students to be my age or younger, I mistook one of the women to be Iwasaki Sensei. It wasn’t until half an hour into the class that I finally realized that the person sitting next to me was actually a student and that Iwasaki Sensei wasn’t even there yet. However, it became very clear who Iwasaki Sensei was once she did arrive because immediately after, to my delight and horror, we played through the entire number as a full ensemble. Rather, I should say, the rest of the class played the entire number as an ensemble. I just plucked some random strings in the background. Despite my complete lack of ability as a beginner, because I had tried to engage as much as possible the rest of the class kindly accepted me and I was able to enjoy my first attempt at playing the koto.

As I continued to return to Greenwich House for weekly classes it soon became apparent to me that the classroom Iwasaki Sensei had cultivated was warm, friendly and because of the communal closeness the lines between Sensei and teacher were casual and unassuming. Before class, arriving students are always enthusiastically greeted, no one gets mad when we have to stop playing to help someone understand a portion of music and on Mondays Iwasaki Sensei and any interested students go out for dinner. There was even an occasion when one of the Obasans, on the first day she met me, invited me over to her house to continue practicing folk songs while we waited for the rest of the class to finish playing an enka piece.

With the students being so friendly and easygoing starting up a conversation is never difficult and I often found myself chit-chatting with other students before the teacher arrived. These casual conversations have been a lot of fun and great Japanese practice as I will often have to put my listening skills to the test to understand a few of the student’s Kansai-ben. However, even if there are times when I mishear something or struggle to convey an idea clearly any of the discomfort that might arise as a result soon fades away once we begin to play.

Actually learning how to play the koto has exceeded all my expectations and getting to learn from Iwasaki Sensei and the other students at Greenwich House has been a truly special experience. For those of you want to learn how to play the Koto or simply want a supportive community to practice your Japanese in I would definitely suggest you stop by Greenwich house. I am confident that if you are excited to engage with Iwasaki Sensei and the other students everyone at Greenwich house will welcome you with open arms.

Ellen Ehrnrooth: Dance

For my CIP, I have been taking a variety of private dance lessons. I dance back home at Tufts University and figured that this would be a good way for me to participate in a community as I have skills to bring to the table. I have taken a range of class styles, from hip-hop to waacking to K-pop, and I have enjoyed being able to continue a hobby I enjoy so much. I go once a week at least (and sometimes more if I have purchased the monthly pass at the studio which lets you go as many times as you want). I also went to a meeting for one of Doshisha’s dance circles.

There have been a number of things about these dance classes that surprised me. Before starting, I had an image in my head that there would be a reasonably strong sense of community within the dancers as dancers (in the US at least) are generally pretty sociable. I also was hoping that the fact that we had a mutual language in the form of dance would be a good way to circumnavigate the language barrier that exists with my questionable Japanese skills. However, at the dance classes I really had to make an effort to have an interaction with anyone there, as they mostly kept to themselves. A number of times I asked fellow students for help with basic things, which in a few instances led to conversation and LINE exchanges, but for the most part people were fairly solitary. Interestingly, the one time I tried taking a class in Tokyo, I had greater success, with people coming up to talk to me and Chungsun Lee (who I have been taking classes with). Also, the way that one is greeted at dance studios was super interesting to me – I was initially very confused when they said ohayou gozaimasu to me when I walked in at 8pm. It turns out that that is custom for the entertainment world in Japan, and not a reflection of my studio’s inability to tell the time.

The one time I tried attending a session of one of Doshisha’s dance circles, I wasn’t met with much success. It was an informal practice as they weren’t training for anything in particular at the time, so people were just practicing what they wanted. Nobody made an effort to come and talk to me at all, which was really surprising – when I participated in dance communities back at Tufts for the first time, people always came up and introduced themselves and made an effort to make me feel included, even when I was a total beginner. I tried to chat with a few students, but as polite as they were, they evidently were not particularly interested in building any sort of connection with me. I think this was the instance in which I really realized how strong the uchi/soto dynamic is in Japan – they were perfectly friendly towards me, but as an outsider I was not invited to join in anything.

Overall, my experience has been pretty good. I don’t necessarily feel like I have been able to join any community specifically, but for the most part I have been able to just fit in with the rest of the people there as someone who is there to dance and learn. I think for the spring semester, I would like to find a more community-oriented CIP, though, and continue with the dance lessons for fun.

Danni Qu: Volunteering at Impact Hub Kyoto

For my semester in Kyoto, Japan, I volunteered at an NGO called Impact Hub Kyoto. Impact Hub Kyoto offers a space for people to exchange new ideas and to change the local community by organizing different forums. In addition, they also rent co working space so a lot of office workers would work here. Through Impact Hub Kyoto, I learnt a lot from interacting with the people there and from my project.

As a college student exchanging at Doshisha University, I do not really have chance to interact with office workers. Through Impact Hub Kyoto, I learnt about how you are supposed to say お疲れ様 to people who are leaving after work. Moreover, I attended a 送別会 (farewell party) for my mentor, and I was able to closely observe how people pay for the meal, what they do at the farewell party and what they say, which is very interesting. I was invited to my mentor’s house and went for food shopping with her prior. After lunch, she took out all the receipts and started calculating in front of everyone divided the price based on the number of the people. This was new to me because in China, usually the colleague that leaves the company pays for the farewell party at restaurant or cooking at home.   

On the other hand, my project at Impact Hub Kyoto taught me so much in multiple aspects. Our goal is to increase the recognition among college students, so we came up with the idea of organizing a forum that interests students. We first interviewed some students and we came up with the theme of the forum: work and travel. Nakamura sensei introduced me her friend as the guest speaker and in order to invite him, I learnt how to write in Japanese business style email and used 敬語 for every email to him. Furthermore, I was able to learn a lot about Japanese people’s mindset by cooperating with my Japanese partner. I talked very directly while he was very indirect and sometimes I misunderstood his meanings. I realized this might be a cultural difference and talked to him about what I think and finally we were on the same page.In addition, we needed to advertise for the forum and I learnt how to ask Doshisha University on Twitter to advertise for us and how to talk to Professors at Doshisha politely to ask if it is possible for him to distribute our flyers on his class.

Overall, I am very grateful for being able to volunteer at Impact Hub Kyoto not only because I get to interact with the type of people I normally do not have a chance to, but also being able to organize a Forum in Japanese with Japanese partner.

Evan Scardino: HMP Theatre Company

For my CIP I have had the opportunity to volunteer at HMP Theatre Company in Osaka. What I actually do there week to week varies based on what they need help with, but the actual activity is not the most important part of what makes volunteering there a fun or informative experience for me. The part of this experience that I have valued the most is the social interaction with people of many different ages who hail from all over Japan.

My activities at HMP have included stage building, app testing, ticket selling, and note taking. Whatever the activities, a group of people usually goes out for drinks at a local izakaya afterwards. These experiences have been fun without exception. HMP’s employees are warm and welcoming, and even if I don’t understand a joke that one of them says, I find myself laughing due to the sheer infectiousness of the atmosphere.

That isn’t to say that I have a great deal of trouble understanding the conversations that go on, or that the experience hasn’t improved my Japanese though, as I don’t, and it certainly has. No one at HMP speaks English, but if there’s something I don’t understand they are ready and willing to explain in simple and easy to understand Japanese. Oftentimes they will anticipate what I won’t understand and explain it to me before I even have the chance to ask.

Observing this tight-knit group has also provided me with a great deal of insight into the culture of Japan, the Japanese theatre community, and this group specifically. As a matter of fact I was shocked by just how much the atmosphere at HMP reminds me of that of off-off-Broadway productions that I have volunteered with. Because the group has been together for a while and they all seem to have a shared repertoire of acquaintances, colleagues, and friends, they have a habit of leaving a “…” in the middle of their sentences, but even without specifying that shared piece of information, all of the participants in the conversation (myself excluded, of course) immediately understand what the speaker is saying.

Another observation I have made about this group is how readily they abandon polite speech to talk to each other in a very casual manner. The director’s younger sister came to help out with ticket sales, and it was the first time most people at the company had met her (due to her lack of resemblance with the director most of them didn’t even know who she was until we all went out for drinks afterwards). Even so, a couple of people started dropping the polite verb endings, picked up the director’s nickname for her, and within a few sentences of conversation she was doing the same right back.

This has definitely had an effect on the way I speak as well. Our assistant director on the current project, Takayasu-san, observed the other night at the izakaya that my once “kirei” Japanese had “disintegrated,” and that I’d even picked up some dialect particular to Osaka. I expressed some ambivalence about this, but she insisted I sounded more like a native speaker this way. All present readily agreed.

Ultimately, I’m truly glad that this was the CIP I chose. Even if the commute is long and the chains of communication can be a little hard to navigate, the warm and friendly environment and fun conversation more than make up for it. I feel like I’m really starting to become a part of this community, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

Kevin Woolsey: Calligraphy

For my CIP, I chose to take calligraphy lessons. Sensei and I would often have random conversations, but the one which most gripped my attention was about Kentucky Fried Chicken in Japan. For those unaware, eating Kentucky Fried Chicken on Christmas has become a tradition in Japan. For 4000 yen, one can order an “original party barrel”, which comes with eight pieces of chicken, a “Christmas salad”, a chocolate cake, and Christmas themed plates. Or, for a more upscale KFC Christmas bash, one can splurge on a 5880 yen whole roast chicken.

I had heard about this mysterious collaboration before I studied abroad, but it never really hit me until one day I passed by a KFC with a banner which read: “Now accepting reservations for Christmas”. It was only early November. Surprised by how early the Christmas mood was starting for KFC, I decided to ask sensei about the origins of this tradition at my next calligraphy lesson.

Confronted with my sudden question, sensei fell silent. After a few moments of deep contemplation, she laughed, coming to the realization that she had no idea, nor did she ever consider the question. The connection between KFC and Christmas had simply become common sense in her mind.

Upon further inquiry, sensei dug deeper into her memory and revealed what she knew about the issue. During her childhood, Christmas itself had not yet become a widespread tradition. At the time, Japan was just getting back on its feet after the defeat. However, celebrating Christmas began to catch on around the time she reached late elementary school or middle school. Sensei seemed to vaguely recall that it was custom to eat roast chicken and such on Christmas. Then, sometime around 40 years ago, KFC capitalized on that existing custom by marketing itself as the thing to eat on Christmas.

However, sensei admitted that she didn’t have much confidence in her account. Determined to get to the bottom of the issue, I conducted a quick Google search and stumbled upon a BBC article reporting on the exact same topic. According to the KFC Japan spokeswoman interviewed by the journalist, the tradition started thanks to Takeshi Okawara, the manager of the first KFC ever in Japan. He heard a couple foreigners in his store talking about how they missed eating turkey for Christmas. Then, as with many great revelations, the idea to marry KFC and Christmas suddenly came to him in a dream one night. He soon began to market the iconic “party barrel”, and in 1974 the company deployed the campaign at the national level, resulting in massive success almost instantly. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Although Japan’s unique traditional culture, such as tea ceremony, understandably often gets the most attention from foreigners, the “melting pot” aspect of Japan culture revealed in customs such as these is interesting in its own right. After enjoying a hefty bucket of KFC for Christmas, Japanese go on to hear the joya no kane, a bell in a Buddhist temple struck 108 times leading up to midnight on New Year’s Eve, and visit a Shinto shrine for hatsumōde. This post had absolutely nothing to do with calligraphy, but perhaps the most important things one learns in calligraphy lessons is not calligraphy itself.

Reference:

http://www.bbc.com/capital/story/20161216-why-japan-celebrates-christmas-with-kfc

Gina Goosby: Bazaar Café

While searching for a CIP, I was recommended Bazaar Café by an alumna. It seemed to tick all the boxes: people-focused, near to campus, and intentionally inclusive. Actually volunteering there proved all those things true. My volunteer time comes after the lunch rush, so I’ve seen a whopping six orders leave the kitchen during my time at Bazaar Café. This is not, in fact, a bad thing: I have more time to talk to and get to know my co-volunteers. On my first day, everyone introduced themselves to me with varying levels of additional info about where they’re from, their relationship with the café, and so on. I was wringing my hands over remembering all the names and not forgetting keigo, but I’ve found that it’s no problem.

Maybe it sounds a bit strange to say some of my best memories so far involve me halfway to my elbows in dishwater. Maybe it’s even stranger if I say that washing dishes was part of the fun. But it’s the truth! The conversations I’ve had over the sink at Bazaar have ranged from heartbreaking to uplifting to hilarious. Through my fellow volunteers I have learned about the state of queer persons in Japan and the infrastructure for mental healthcare. One of my co-volunteers feels that Japanese media tends to “other” queer persons quite brazenly. I’m certain that mindset is common in the States, too, but according to that person, the opinion that sexual and gender minorities are fundamentally different from the rest of society is normal even among younger people. For persons with mental illnesses or disabilities, support varies. There is a solid effort being made to integrate the disabled into society by finding them meaningful work opportunities. However, social stigma around mental health issues like depression as well as addictions is still far too high. While learning about these sorts of differences can be somewhat disheartening, such insights into Japanese society are valuable in better understanding the country I am in and whether I would choose to live here long-term.

Aside from the big stuff, there were plenty of smaller day-to-day things I learned to. Regarding politeness, for example, on my second day, I was struggling to speak in keigo when someone told me just to chill out. That is not to say that speech registers are not important — there’s a time and a place for keigo, but it’s not to people you work alongside every week and come to regard as friends. Of course, I’ll still use polite form with certain stock phrases, but for the most part I am learning to match the speech register of my partner (no thanks to my textbook!). For cultivating personal relationships, going with the flow will take you a long way.

Bazaar Café is always one of the highlights of my week, and I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to go there for my CIP. Whether or not it’s my official CIP next semester, you can bet I’ll be there often!

Caitlyn Chung: Kyoto International Manga Museum

For my CIP, I participated at the Kyoto International Manga Museum as a volunteer. The museum, as the name states, holds the largest collection of manga in the city, and is a sort of makeshift library as well where visitors can read the manga that every wall of the building. There’s also changing exhibits every season to highlight a popular series, visiting artist events, and other local activities as well. As a volunteer intern at the museum, my work mostly consisted of helping behind the scenes by organizing the manga (as people tend to misplace them) and assisting visitors at the front desk. I also occasionally translated Japanese to English or Korean for the museum workers when they asked.

I would say the work definitely translated more towards customer service; making sure you’re friendly, answering any questions, and taking the occasional break to relax and read the manga as a visitor than a worker. Regardless of language or culture, the customer service portion remained relatively similar. On the other hand, it was the relationship with the other staff members that greatly differed the most from any past part-time job experience.

Every time I came, I would have to go out of my way to the administration office across the building to say a couple of quick words before going to see my supervisor. After that, whenever another member of the museum and I crossed paths, we would give a sign of acknowledgement (usually a bow from me, or a tilt of a head), and say 「お疲れ様」before moving on to whatever task at hand. The language also changed with who I talked to – obviously with customers and other high-level administration staff members, I would use the politest form of speech, but with my immediate supervisors and other people I met often at the front desk, a hybrid of informal and formal speech was considered the norm. The latter, in my opinion, definitely made it easier to befriend the others – everything felt more natural (from greeting to parting and in between), while saying hello and goodbye to the administration office before and after every shift there felt more like another chore.

The Kyoto International Manga Museum is definitely an amazing place and is super cool with thousands and thousands of books collected from as early as the Showa period of Japan (you have to get the staff-only storage places for that!). They also have a ton of resources for people who want to study manga, history, etc., and honestly the staff were so kind and were more than willing to speak to me! They were definitely a highlight of the entire thing, especially Watanabe-san, my immediate supervisor. She was incredibly helpful and did the most to make me feel comfortable throughout the time! However, for those considering volunteering here, I would advise that future students be confident in their Japanese conversation skill. It is a reputable institution that provides entertainment and education for a variety of people throughout the day, and as a member of the staff there, being unable to provide quality service or making mistakes does end up hurting their image (in addition, most of the people there are unable to speak English). It is a great opportunity to use keigo in a real-life setting, so I highly recommend it for those who want to experience a glimpse of the Japanese work environment!