Gloria Kantungire: Klexon

I am currently volunteering in the Klexon English Language Conversation group. Through Klexon, I’ve been met so many new people. In fact last weekend,I went to Fushimi Inari and Lake Biwako with a woman named Kahori, who I met at a Klexon Party. Klexon Parties are held at the director of the program’s home every other weekend. The Klexon programs that operate in Shiga and in Kyoto come together for one night for a language exchange over dinner and drinks. That night, there were only a few foreigners, so foreigners were dispersed among separate tables. Kahori is actually quite a bit older than I am, however she is rather outgoing and (surprisingly) loud, so it was easy for me to become friends with her at the party. She invited me to go see Lake Biwako with her that next weekend.

Through meeting new people every week, I’ve noticed a lot of subtle cultural differences between America and Japan. For example, at the Klexon party, I made the mistake of pouring myself another drink. In Japan, it is customary for others to pour your drink for you. Since I was foreign, I was considered a “guest” of the country, which perhaps made it more imperative for Japanese people to pour my drink. Kahori explained to me that pouring a drink for yourself appears quite lonely, and the culture of pouring a drink for others is just another way for people to connect with one another.

Another difference I noticed was the gestures. Gestures in America can be are completely different from gestures in Japan. Most Americans when signaling someone to “come over here” will usually wave a person over with their palms facing upwards. When I was in Osaka with a friend from DESA (Doshisha Exchange Student Association), who offered to show me around Shinsaibashi, we were standing in front of a crepe store waiting for our crepe to be prepared. Unfortunately, I had been standing in the way of other people who also wanted crepes. He gestured for me to come closer, and away from the front of the store. However, he did so with palms facing down. In Japan, people signal “come here” with their palms facing downward.  Also that the American gesture for “kind of” or “a little” is gestured with palms facing downward and rotating your wrist up and down. When I asked Kahori later on whether or not she’s seen or used the American gestures for “come here” and ” a little”, she answered that Japanese people might see the American “come here” as a signal for a dog, rather than a person. Also Japanese people will signify “a little” with their thumb and index finger pinching together, while the American version of the gesture be seen as a rejecting hand motion in Japan.

Through Klexon, I’ve been able to practice my Japanese, and at the same time learn more about Japanese culture through observing the people I meet every week.

Kim Coombes: Teaching English at Kozmoz Cafe

I recently had to change my CIP due to scheduling conflicts, so now I am teaching English at Kozmoz Café in Momoyama. I have been doing it for a few weeks now and am greatly enjoying it. I am able to engage with Japanese people of all ages. I have the pleasure of teaching classes to adults as well as children. It is amazing to see how dedicated Japanese students are to their studies. As part of the adult’s lesson plan, they must keep a weekly diary and write about one event that occurred. Many of the adult students write pages of information so the teachers can correct them! Watching how hard Japanese students study has given me motivation to work harder at my Japanese studies.
Aside from having the pleasure of meeting Japanese people, as a teacher, my Japanese is constantly being reinforced by the lessons. Both children and adult will commonly repeat a question I asked them in English, in Japanese to me to confirm they understand. By doing this I get to hear their Japanese as well as check their understanding. After lessons I am able to speak with Japanese people and practice my Japanese a bit.
Teaching English has helped me feel more comfortable within Japanese society because I am constantly engaging with Japanese people. As a shy person, I have been able to use my classes as a way to engage Japanese people. By finding out what is popular and interesting to them, I am able to talk to more students at Doshisha and can hold more interesting and relatable conversations in Japanese.
Kozmoz Cafe is a non-profit organization and I really enjoying volunteering there. They run food banks as well as teach English classes. They also hold parties and events for their students. If there is ever any interest in volunteering there feel free to email me!

Catherine Alexander: Historical Sightseeing Circle

This semester for my CIP I participated in Doshisha’s Historical Sightseeing Circle. In this circle we learn about Kyoto’s many historical site and then visit in person as a group. Typically, after the planned visit to a historical site, everyone will go out to eat together. Also, because Kyoto is filled with sightseeing spots, we will often stop by shines and temples on our way to and from our main destination. Overall, this circle is a good opportunity to get to know a little more about Kyoto.

Besides the learning experience, I also feel that this circle taught me more about group dynamics in Japan. The biggest thing I realized was how the circle was divided by gender and age. In this particular circle, most of the first years were girls, so it was difficult to tell which factor was stronger; however it seemed like within the circle students tended to speak more with those who were the same age and gender. I wasn’t too surprised at this, because I’ve learned that age is important in Japanese society, but in comparison to America, where students normally group around major or common interests, I found it interesting. I myself, didn’t feel like a part of any of the gender or age groups, and normally switched around between them. As in a lot of cases, being a foreigner trumps other social classifications. However, I never really made an effort to stay with the others in my age group or gender, so things might have been different if I had.

The Historical Sightseeing Circle was a good experience, and I recommend it a CIP for those interested in Kyoto’s history. My advice for CIPs as a whole is to find something you enjoy doing!

Saminya Bangura: KLEXON

For my CIP, I’ve been attending the Kyoto Language Exchange Salon (or KLEXON) in Shijo once a week. While I didn’t get to practice a lot of Japanese language, it has still been an incredible experience that has allowed me to learn a lot about the Japanese culture and even make a few friends!

Of all the things I experienced during my time at KLEXON, what’s stuck with me the most was an experience I had at one of the parties. Once a month, there is a dinner party that brings two or three language circles in the area together and on my first time there, I was surprised to have so many members (from both my circle and the others) insist on serving me drinks and food. From the moment I began studying Japanese, the importance of the senpai-kouhai relationship was often emphasized and I had always assumed that, regardless of the context, it would stand firm. However, despite my being the youngest and newest member of the circle at my table, I was served throughout the night and when I attempted to do it in exchange, I was refused, which confused me more than it hurt my feelings.

I had to wonder if my being a foreigner somehow made me exempt from the usual rules that steer Japanese club dynamics. Perhaps because the members know that my time in the club is temporary, they were choosing to treat me more like a guest than a member; so the rules of senpai and kouhai (which I do see employed when other members interact) didn’t apply. I attempted to face this by becoming involved with the group on a more personal level so that even if they knew of my transience, I could still be accepted as a permanent member based on my social presence. This involved attending more events outside of meetings (like the parties) and following through on friendships when I received LINE IDs or Facebooks. But, in the end, there was no real change over the course the semester; I was still being treated like a guest even two and a half months in.

Eventually, I came to realize that this phenomenon wasn’t of any fault of my own. I was struggling to enter the uchi of KLEXON when there was no real uchi in the first place. Though there are a group of regular members that attend meetings every single week, KLEXON’s relatively lax structure, lack of set policies regarding attendance and older membership meant that some people might go weeks without coming to a meeting. And as a result, there was no concrete group mentality; individual members might forge friendships but there was no real sense of a bond between the group as a whole. Therefore, what I thought was a senpai and kouhai interaction forged by club members might have just been a manifestation of the general idea of respecting senior members in your field or elders.

I think that my experience would’ve been much different had I been involved in a CIP with more people my age, especially on a college campus. College clubs tend to be more structured (and, as a result, more stressful) but that often results in getting closer to your peers and creating a sense of uchi. Nonetheless, I enjoyed every minute of being in KLEXON; it was fascinating to get a glimpse into interactions between shakai-jin (especially the businessmen) and experience a club that was driven and shaped by them more than anyone else.

Hayley Valk: Kyoto YWCA

This semester I volunteered once a week for the after-school children’s program at the Kyoto YWCA. For most of the semester the same two kids came every Monday, an 11-year-old girl and 10-year-old boy. It felt more like babysitting than an organized program, as usually I was alone with the two and we spent the time freely chatting, playing with toys, eating snack, and doing homework. The last week there was a more structured, all-day camp during spring vacation, with 15 elementary school kids and 5 other college-aged volunteers, which offered a chance to interact with more children and other volunteers in a more organized environment.

Through weekly volunteering I really got to know the usual girl and boy, and see how my relationships with each compared to each other and evolved over the course of the semester. Though a bit hesitant at first, they both became fairly comfortable with me as a foreigner, but the girl much more so than the boy. The first day we met she was doubtful, and asked the program director if I even understood Japanese. The program director told her to talk to me and find out, and from there her impressions quickly improved. After a few minutes of conversation she decided I understand quite a lot of Japanese, and after asking me if I can read and write hiragana and some basic kanji she decided that I’m not so different from a Japanese person. That was a flattering overstatement. From then on we spent the majority of the time each day talking about school, what we like to eat, etc. She asked some funny questions about life in America, like whether people learn multiplication, if English is the only language used in the subway, and whether the four cardinal directions exist (I taught her the words in English, which she remembered from then on and would practice every week). She was very open to talking with me, and I think she had fun sharing stories and helping me understand her Japanese. She spoke very clearly, and after saying a word she thought I might not understand, she asked and tried to explain if I didn’t. Sometimes she would give up and tell me to use my dictionary, but some words like “alarm clock” or “snore” she could explain by making sounds and doing impressions. She also purposely avoided Kansai-ben, until asking me one day if I understood it. When I said I did understand some, she decided she’d try to use it with me from then on. I think her consideration for my Japanese abilities made conversation more productive and also more fun for both of us. The boy, though about the same age, had a fast, mumbling manner of speaking that was much harder for me to understand, and he made no concessions for my benefit. Because it was hard to engage in conversation he didn’t talk to me as much, but we became closer once I proved a decent dodgeball partner. He was more comfortable doing physical activities with me than just chatting. Though he warmed up to me, one of the last days when his mom came to pick him up she complimented my Japanese, and he quickly corrected her by saying that actually there’s a lot of Japanese I don’t understand. Though both were relatively open to me despite my being American, when communication challenges arose, the girl was much more able and interested to identify and solve them, while the boy just moved on without any effort to improve our mutual understanding. Though talking to them both was good practice, it was interesting to compare how my relationships with the two differed as a result.

During the spring vacation camp I was able to interact with many more kids, but I didn’t get to know any as well. Most of the camp children were a bit younger than the usual girl and boy; the average age was around 8. As a result, they seemed less aware of my being different or not understanding Japanese perfectly. Even at times when their speech was too fast or slurred for me to fully understand, they generally seemed content for me just to listen and respond as best as I could. Being younger, they were also more interested in being active and playing games, so if I jumped around, helped with puzzles, and made funny faces and an occasional joke, that was more entertaining than sitting around talking anyway. Since most weeks I was alone with the two kids, the camp was also a chance for me to see how other college-aged volunteers interacted with the children. Despite being a fairly structured program with a set schedule, the program director largely left the volunteers in charge alone, and I was a bit surprised by how little authority they showed. Organized activities quickly devolved into running, screaming, and games of questionable safety, but for whatever reason the other volunteers just smiled and let themselves get pulled around without making an effort to control the situation. Though I at times felt inferior because of my own lack of ability to communicate effectively to the children in Japanese, I appreciated that both the kids and other staff treated me the same as everyone else. In particular I appreciated the program director’s attitude towards me; both in a group meeting following camp and after I volunteered each week, she asked and valued my thoughts about the day. She also asked me to contribute ideas for camp activities ahead of time, and from the very beginning of the semester trusted me to take charge of the day’s activities and manage the program room.  Other staff members and volunteers were similarly friendly and trusting, as were the children’s parents, who always made a point to thank me. I really came to feel like a valued member of the YWCA community, equal to any other volunteer.

Overall I found volunteering at the YWCA to be a very successful and gratifying CIP experience. Perhaps due to the organization’s missions to support both Japanese and foreign women, everyone I encountered was accepting and understanding, and despite never meeting another American, I never felt out of place. The nature of the work didn’t require a very high level of Japanese, but it did offer ample opportunities to practice with people of all ages.  I also love spending time with kids, so volunteering was a chance not only to learn, but also to just have fun for a few hours every week. I am grateful to all at the YWCA!

Rosaley Gai: Kyoto Igo Salon

Every Monday and, if I have the time, Wednesday or Saturday, I go to the Kyoto Igo Salon from around 1PM to 5:30PM. Most of the other customers are retired adults, so the average age of the salon’s students is around seventy. I have been going to the same go salon for the entirety of my time in Kyoto, so it has been about six months since I began. At first, I was a beginner who barely knew the rules. The sensei there taught me through first a stone-capturing game, then with real games. I have risen eighteen ranks in six months, and am now at twelve kyū.

Go is ranked from thirty kyū (complete beginners) to nine dan (the highest level). I started at thirty kyū and slowly worked my way up to my current twelve over the last two semesters. It feels slow to me, of course, but the other students there are much older and take much longer to improve. I hear a lot of “Young people sure improve fast!”, not only directed towards myself but also towards the other young students. Last semester, I was one of the only young adults who regularly went to the salon, but lately there have been more young people at the salon, including two other KCJS students. They generally go on the same days as I, and it feels like the atmosphere of the salon changes somewhat with their presence.

Perhaps it is their energy that makes things different; maybe it is their voices. Somehow, though, their presence brings a sort of liveliness to the salon, which used to be generally quiet aside from idle chatter between games. One of the KCJS students is very friendly and the other is more reserved, but their interactions and excitement over learning the game from scratch seemed to imbue everyone else with the same kind of enthusiasm. It was their presence that really made me understand that participating in something requires not only input from the environment, but also output from the individual. I feel as though last semester was a more passive learning experience for myself. While I was able to learn how to better speak in formal Japanese and communicate with people of a completely different age group than I, I am not sure how much the other patrons got out of speaking to me.

When I began to participate more actively in the salon beyond games and shallow conversations, I felt like I had a stronger bond with the other students in the salon. I brought them omiyage from various trips I made and felt their gratitude during the afternoon snack break. In turn, they began to ask me more questions beyond my life in America, like whether I was going to miss Japan and how my weekend trips were. They even began to laugh and joke more with me. I now feel like a part of the salon rather than simply an outsider who has managed to extend one hand into a foreign environment.

In picking a CIP, I thought all that the most important thing was doing an activity that I enjoyed and would be able to do consistently. While this is still true, I have learned that simply going to and existing in a space is not as valuable a learning experience as interacting actively and enthusiastically with the other people there. I think I have become very close with the other students, and will miss them very much when KCJS is over.

Morgan Hearne: Kyudō

My time at Kyōto’s Budō Center learning from Kawaguchi-sensei was a great privilege. From gradually finding a better sense of balance when taking off my shoes before practice (though never a sense of grace), performing the correct form over and over again without complaint (in the cold, without feeling in toes or fingers), to releasing my first arrow, I have gained a lot from my CIP experience. Many of the things I have learned have been through nonverbal experiences, but nevertheless I believe they certainly say much about the process of studying a Japanese cultural art form.

To shoot or not to shoot— this depends on what I would call the Kyudō Trifecta: Respect, Discipline, and Patience. My observations point to these three values as key in determining your success in studying kyudō.

Every practice began and ended with formal aisatsu, which consisted of waiting for and greeting sensei when she became free, and respectfully expressing our appreciation for her guidance in zarei (seated bow position). Only after completing aisatsu could we retrieve our equipment or take our leave. At the same time, there was not a strict, tense atmosphere like I imagined there would be. Rather, while taking practice seriously, the older students often joked with sensei, who also often displayed a dry sense of humor. I think it was because a high level of respect already existed between students and teacher, as shown through aisatsu at the beginning and end of practice, that this kind of warm atmosphere could be created. The importance of respect feeds into the other two pillars of the Kyudō Trifecta as well.

In practicing the same form endlessly, respecting the subtleties between each step, and keeping both the mind and body focused in silence takes, as you can imagine, great discipline. In my mind, this was an area of particular importance in which to succeed because I have always imagined it as (besides a general area of weakness in myself) an area of weakness in those not socialized into Japanese culture. Because sensei was often busy helping a number of students, practicing in silence while learning as much as possible from older students was vital. Without saying anything, experienced students would generously hop in front of us to practice and let us take careful note of their form. I really appreciated the sense of camaraderie created because students knew the difficulty and importance of preserving through moments of weak resolve. Luckily, patience, as the third pillar of the Kyudō Trifecta, made me more forgiving in the moments when my shoulders did slump and my eyes searched for a clock.

Patience also, I found, was key to finding the joy in chilly afternoon practices of repetition, repetition, repetition. In fact, the same level of patience required of us was vastly lower due to the nature of our short visit. Kawaguchi-sensei actually sped up the timeline in which we received a bow to hold, an arrow with which to practice the form, and the permission to actually release the string. Normal students would have been practicing the form for about two months before even holding a bow. And yet all the same, even in the short and far more ‘action-packed’ time I took kyudō lessons, I know that patience is what completes the Trifecta. From the tremendous range of students’ ages, I saw right from the start that kyudō is an art form you learn over a lifetime. In this way, I was able to relax in knowing that while striving for a kind of perfection, it was finding the joy and awe in the learning process that made my CIP experience so memorable.

Frances Chang: Kyodai Chorus Circle

Music is a universal language that connects people even when there is a language barrier. Coming to Japan, I knew that I wanted to relate my Community Involvement Project to music. I have been singing ever since elementary school and have participated in school choruses, musicals, a cappella groups and other performance opportunities. Through those experiences, I have also made life long friends. Therefore, I was determined that by joining a musical singing community, I would be able to further connect with local Japanese University students.

From the CIPs of past KCJS students, I was able to contact the Kyoto University (Kyodai) Chorus Circle. Because Japanese students end their school year around mid-February, it was a little nerve wrecking to find a circle that was still active. Fortunately, I was one of the first few people who started their CIP the second week of the program.

The Kyodai Chorus Circle is located across the Kyoto University Main Campus, where others circles, such as dance groups and orchestras, also hold meetings and rehearsals. The chorus is a coed group, where there are about 25 men and 15 women. The group sings both English and Japanese classic songs. In addition, a typical rehearsal day consists of Songs of the Day, Warm Up, Sectional Rehearsal, Ensemble Rehearsal, and ends with another Songs of the Day. Members are free to choose whichever songs they like to sing for Songs of the Day. The Warm Up session consists of physical, breathing, and vocal warm ups. Rehearsals are 3 times a week: mixed voices, individual voices, and men only rehearsals. Each rehearsal lasts 3 hours. The Kyodai Chorus Circle continued to have rehearsals throughout Japanese students’ spring break, with only a three-weeks vacation at the end of February to the beginning of March.

Japanese Chorus Circle is definitely different from choirs or musical groups in America. Although no auditions were required to join the group, I was surprised how professional everyone was. Many people had basic knowledge and background on music. However, vocal ability ranged. Japanese chorus students were very serious about their circle, and they were focused and work very hard during rehearsals. The girls rarely goofed off or took any breaks, and no one talked when the conductor was conducting or teaching. With the amount of focus, time, and effort put into the rehearsals, the chorus sounded wonderful. Moreover, there was no apparent senpai and kohai division in the chorus. After each rehearsal, members would have dinner together at near by restaurants or the cafeteria. The group dynamic was harmonious and pleasant.

Towards the end of April, the Kyodai Chorus has an annual Spring concert, which is where they introduce their new members. If you would like to perform with the Chorus at the concerts, I would advice you to go to more than 1 rehearsal sessions per week. This circle will definitely improve your personal musical ability and help you make some friends. However, if you are looking for a more active social environment, perhaps, another circle would be a better fit.

 

John Lyons: Miconos Swimming Circle

  After another semester participating in the Miconos Swimming Circle at Kyoto University, I feel I have come away from the experience with a new understanding of Japanese college life that one cannot learn from class, and a group of friends that I sincerely hope I can keep in contact with. The members of Miconos were all incredibly nice, and accepting of me from the first time I entered the pool.

  However that does not mean that my transition from an American Water Polo club to a Japanese Swimming circle was flawless. There were several steps along the way were I felt distanced from the other members of the circle, but at this point I feel that is not the case at all. For example, the lack of swimming that occurs at this swimming circle initially was an alienating aspect of the circle as my club at my home college is especially strict on ensuring all members participate at hundred percent. Yet, I eventually found myself adapting to the conditions of the circle, and even valuing engaging other members in conversation over swimming. Another aspect was reconciling that the President of the circle was in the same year as me. While in America, seniors usually occupy the roles as leaders within the club. But, the president’s kind nature, and friendliness helped me overcome this cultural difference. Although he is no longer the president, before the transition occurred, I had already resolved my discomfort with this difference and even started to no longer refer to him as 会長, but by his circle nickname, 岩ちゃん.

  While I feel I have mostly adapted to some aspects of Miconos that are certainly quite different than what I am used to, the end of one term and start of another brought forth various other difference from the college situation in America. As the end of the term drew near, I noticed that many of the upperclassman would forsake swimming for the entire practice period, but instead congratulations cards for the members of the circle who were graduating. Considering that I had been practicing with the club for five months at that point, but had yet to see any of these seniors participate in the practices, I did find this practice a bit strange. Furthermore, the graduating seniors had apparently created a similar card, but for the restaurant Tsumura which has housed the after practice meals of Miconos for at least five years. The reason I know this is because within the restaurant, the walls are littered with these cards from the Miconos members in previous years. This and the circle itself arbitrarily deciding that the ending of the 2014-2015 year and beginning of the 2015-2016 at the start of April, a week before the University`s actual new year begins are two aspects of this transitional period that differ quite a bit from my experiences in America.

  Through my short time with Miconos, I have found that joining a circle that you have a profound interest in can really help you overcome the initial awkwardness distancing a foreigner with Japanese students. By taking advantage of these common points, and actively engaging the circle members one can easily find their place within the circle. There may be times were you feel like an outsider, or like you’re being ignored, don`t be shy and try to engage members in one on one settings rather in a larger group. You will find that in most cases the members want to converse with and be friends with you, just as much as you want to converse and be friends with them.

Andrew Proebstle: Calligraphy

Through participating in the Community Involvement Project we are asked, as ethnographers, to take away from our experiences and be able to discuss an aspect of Japanese life. Studying calligraphy in a classroom with no more than four or five elementary school students at one time and one teacher made for easy observation, but it’s actually how my teacher went out of her way to deal with me that I find most interesting, and is what I want to briefly talk about without revealing too much of her personal information on the internet.

A calligraphy teacher for elementary students is someone who teaches basic techniques, and an elementary student practicing calligraphy tends to just want to get the lesson over with as quickly as possible. How then, should a foreigner interested in learning more advanced techniques be dealt with, if at all, was the predicament my teacher was faced with when I first came to her house and asked to be instructed. Fortunately for me she accepted, and even more fortunately she has worked her hardest to humor all of my unorthodox requests. She helped me write poetry, a Zen koan, and even ancient style calligraphy, all of which are things that she would not normally be teaching. For her, this meant going out of her way to prepare examples for me to practice copying that she’s not used to writing, let alone teaching to someone with barely even three years of Japanese language. Even though I made things difficult for her, she never once complained about it to me.

Her generosity goes beyond even that though. For starters, she gave me the brushes I’ve used for class every week as a present, free of charge. She never seems to mind if, for example, I’ve been struggling and it takes me until 9pm to complete my lesson, meaning that she has to wait longer to eat dinner. After a semester had passed and the New Year had come, she presented me with a lovely paperweight to use with the design of a sheep (the zodiac animal for this year), again all out of the goodness of her heart. The per month rate she charges me is more than fair, and makes it clear that she teaches for the joy of it, rather than to make a profit in spite of all the paper and ink that gets used up in a single day. It’s this character of my calligraphy teacher that not only stands out to me in an ethnographic way because of her dedication to teaching, but also has my sincerest gratitude for the kindness she’s shown me every week. It is to her that I owe all that I’ve been able to learn, and I’d like to continue practicing calligraphy after I return to America out of respect for her efforts.