投稿者「KCJS27」のアーカイブ

Xiaolin Lei: Reborn Kyoto Volunteer

投稿日時: 投稿者:

For the past 9 weeks I was an active volunteer at the Kyoto based NGO Reborn Kyoto, a non-profit organization conducting philanthropic activities in developing countries to foster women’s financial independence. Since their establishment in 1979, Reborn Kyoto completed successful projects in 7 countries and are now in the process of their 8th project in Rwanda. The organization offers women from ages 18-35 free vocational training in sewing skills and technology and also hires them, after the completion of their training, to produce in-house designed pieces using fabric of donated kimonos from all over Japan. The finished products are sent back to Japan for sale in department stores, Reborn Kyoto’s flagship store and artisan markets to generate revenue. The clothing are very beautiful pieces with much variety, from winter coats to summer dresses for people of all genders and ages.

With zero sewing capability (granted, I did once sew an unwearable skirt), I approached the organization to volunteer my time in the hopes that I can contribute my efforts to a cause I was interested in. As a result, I shared a lot of quality time with around 10-15 local Japanese volunteers, all senior women who have a passion for sewing and participates twice a week to produce pieces for sale in-house. While I cannot sew at all, I enjoyed running small errands for them, completing small tasks, and chit chatting for 2 hours at a time every week. There were many noted differences between the local volunteers and me, like age and locational differences. However, the most memorable realizations and lessons were cultural ones.

Initially I did not know how to best conduct my demeanor in front of the other volunteers who clearly had way more experience living and working than I did. Maybe it was the language and culture barrier, but I found it difficult to start conversation at first. In this situation, it occurred to me that the only culturally appropriate behavior Japanese textbooks ever taught me were cumbersomely long sentences of keigo. So I tried my best to speak as respectfully as I could. My clumsy efforts at keigo (i.e. ending sentences with ~でございます) only drew light laughter from them. They seem rather amused at my proper tone and overly humble word choices. One person kindly informed me that the keigo I was using is best reserved for formal business settings and that I should speak comfortably in front of them. I was grateful for any hints or cues on appropriate conduct and immediately dropped my keigo with them.

From this I realized two things; one is that while Japanese textbooks are very difficult to write, take a lot of skill to perfect and should definitely be lauded for effort, cultural lessons are best learned outside of the classroom. The second thing is the immense complexity of keigo. It is not only learning the set phrases and sentence structures that is vital to navigating the respectful form, but also understanding when and how to utilize it. Keigo is not merely just phrases of respect we need to blindly memorize, like any other cultural lesson from our textbooks, it encompasses very real social interactions that either enables your usage or kills it. My initial conversations with the local volunteers demonstrated precisely that; no matter how much keigo I knew, as long as I was using it in the wrong context, it came off silly and unnecessary. Perhaps the only benefit that came out of this episode was being able to break the ice a little while I sat in a small Japanese style room surrounded by older Japanese women all sewing skillfully.

An additional cultural observation after many weeks of volunteering is the act of ippukukyukei (tea time), or simply in my mind, ocha taimu. Every day at 15:00 someone from the organization (usually the administrative assistant) makes tea, puts out some snacks and gathers everyone for a 10-15 minute break. During this time people quench their appetite with tea and a small snack while chatting with one another about any topic of interest. I missed ippukukyukei for the first few weeks due to schedule conflicts and was offered tea and special snacks on the side to take home. I was treated very kindly by everyone, but always as a guest only. While I did not mind their kindness, I almost found it difficult to refuse the snacks and integrate myself into their team. I could feel that they were paying special attention to take care of me as the foreign guest. Again, I did not want to object to their kindness, but I was surprised by the amount of time it took before they saw me as one of their regular volunteers.

That said, this week, after a little over 2.5 months of volunteering my services, I am happy to announce that I have successfully integrated myself into the volunteer circle by proactively asking to make tea during ocha taimu (I know I am conflating the terms but in my mind they are one and the same). I am extremely pleased with the fact that I am no longer regarded as a guest but a part of the team. Everyone drank the tea I made and said it tasted delicious. Note that by “made” I mean putting in tealeaves, adding hot water to a big teapot, pouring said tea into cups and served to everyone. Whether the tea was actually delicious is besides the point here, I truly think that was their way of showing their gratitude. While this process of insinuating myself into the volunteer team was rather slow and comparatively different to any of my past experiences with institutions and organizations in the U.S, I was content with the baby steps and victories I carved out for myself through this CIP.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time getting to know these local volunteers who I would probably never come into contact with if not for this project. I hope to keep in touch with one of the volunteers, Kuroki-san, who looked out for me from the very beginning and taught me many life lessons, like sewing buttons onto shirts, creative ways of utilizing kansaiben, and many more stories from her life. Like many of my other experiences in Japan, my CIP activity is another example of 一期一会 that I have learned to treasure.

Karinne Lorig: Klexon

投稿日時: 投稿者:

While I had been to Klexon once before during last term, I began to go regularly once the embroidery class I had been attending went on break until summer. Klexon is an English practice circle for those who wish to have an opportunity to practice their conversational English with others studying the language as well as with volunteer English speakers from Anglophone countries. The group attracts a wide range of students and young adults from both a wide area of Japan and abroad, so to accommodate the resultant range of scheduling needs, the group meets Tuesdays at 19 o’clock, late though that is. Having never been to any practice group other than this one before or, in fact, provided help to those studying English as a second language in any official capacity before, I quickly found myself making adjustments both in the way I was speaking and in the way I was listening to things in order to better facilitate communication. I began to enunciate my speech a little more than I usually do and be cognizant of how opaque certain turns of phrase and idioms can be to people not from my own culture. Similarly, as I continued to go, I became more and more aware of the types of pronunciation distinctions that can be difficult for native speakers of Japanese beyond the oft-cited ‘L’ and ‘R’ pronunciation such as the subtle vowel distinctions that differentiate words such as ‘machinery’ and ‘missionary’ and listen carefully to try and suss out which was which.

But it wasn’t just the thing I was doing that helped expand my horizons. Though it surprised me initially, it’s the broad variety of people that I’m able to meet by going which keeps me attending Klexon. Through going there, I’ve been able to have conversations with many people who are not only interesting, but come from wide ranging backgrounds and professions—such as dolphin trainers, specialists in British history, and even current and former Doshisha students—whom I likely wouldn’t have had the chance to meet otherwise.

Nicolle Bertozzi: Chanoyu Lessons

投稿日時: 投稿者:

In addition to continuing my CIP at the Kubota Birendo sudare shop this semester, I began studying the tea ceremony. Thanks in large part to everything the Kubotas taught me about the tea ceremony last semester, I decided that I wanted to learn more about the ceremony myself. In addition to researching chanoyu as part of an Independent Study research project, taking lessons myself seemed like a natural next step. I was introduced to my tea teacher, Arai-sensei, through a colleague of my IS project advisor at the beginning of this semester, and have been taking weekly lessons ever since.

In the world of chanoyu, which is often seen as very rigid and uptight, Arai-sensei is known for being very relaxed. He makes room for casual conversation during his lessons and is always happy to answer questions from his students. As I have never taken tea lessons with anyone other than Arai-sensei, I cannot compare firsthand how his teaching style differs from those of, say, an Urasenke-certified teacher. I can say, however, that the environment of Arai-sensei’s tearoom is very calm. Generally, there are two stations set up for students to practice their temae, the choreographed motions one goes through when preparing a bowl of matcha for one’s guests. At the center of the tearoom, Arai-sensei sits seiza, keeping a watchful eye on the students’ temae. While acting as the shokyaku—or main guest—of the student’s ceremony, he guides the student through the temae, correcting errors and explaining each step along the way.

One of the first things that caught my attention about Arai-sensei was how carefully he pays attention to each of his students’ temae; even when there are two students practicing at the same time, Arai-sensei always keeps track of exactly when the shokyaku is supposed to bow during the course of each ceremony. Additionally, he can tell immediately when something in the temae is out of order, even when that something is as easy to overlook as a cloth folded along the wrong seam.

As opposed to the teaching style one often finds in America, in which students are divided into classes based on experience level, Arai-sensei’s chanoyu lessons are designed for students of all levels. At the same time that I would be struggling through the beginner’s temae, there might be a student practicing alongside me who had been taking lessons for years, for whom the motions of the temae felt natural. Watching these students during their practice is considered a great learning opportunity for beginner students, so I was often invited to observe their temae seated next to Arai-sensei. What surprised me, however, was that the opposite was true as well: Observing the temae of a less experienced student is considered to be just as valuable. It is a chance to revisit the basics, when each movement of the temae is still executed as a conscious effort. There is a term in Japanese—shoshin, or “beginner’s heart”—that is believed to be an important part of any student’s core practice. No matter how far one advances in their training, it is incredibly important to return occasionally to the beginning.

It wasn’t until I explained my tea lessons to the Kubotas that I came to understand how fundamental this philosophy of the shoshin is in the Japanese traditional arts. A student of tea himself, Shinji Kubota nodded along knowingly as I told him about the other students observing my practice. “It really is a great way to learn,” he said. “You notice so much about how the flow of the temae works when you are watching someone learning it for the first time.”

My study of the tea ceremony this semester has proven to be an incredibly valuable experience. It has provided me with many insights into the world of tea, which has of course been central to my research project. More so than that, however, learning tea has connected me to a new community within Kyoto, a city where the art of chanoyu continues to thrive.

 

Ling Xi Min: Volunteering at Kyoto Museum for World Peace

投稿日時: 投稿者:

I had the privilege of volunteering at the Kyoto Museum for World Peace as part of my weekly CIP activity. The arrangement was that I would go to the museum every Tuesday to volunteer for a period of about 3 hours after morning classes, where I would carry tasks including translation (between English and Japanese and occasionally German), research and miscellaneous jobs like digitizing the museum’s postcard collection (from the 1920s).

I had never worked in a museum before, let alone a museum in Japan, and to some extent I did not know what to expect, particularly with regard to how much language ability I would require in order to function and contribute effectively. Thankfully, in spite of being one of two people in the museum who could speak fluent English, things turned out as well as they could have. I think that how much one can contribute in these contexts depends as much on how one deploys one’s skills as what skills one has (which for me was a middle-schooler’s Japanese, native-level English and some limited research experience). The reality for me was that my Japanese was not good enough to write descriptions for the permanent exhibition, and probably will not be for a while. The speed at which I read and processed Japanese language research materials was also obviously slower than that of the Japanese staff. What I did instead for translation tasks, was to take the target passages in English, translate them to the best of my ability and leave the rest to the Japanese staff. Though I initially worried about the appropriateness of my translation, the curator explained to me how they saw it: it is far easier for the Japanese staff to fix broken Japanese than it is for them to read English. And though Japanese-language research materials could obviously be parsed faster by Japanese staff, what I could bring to the table was specialized knowledge and new interpretations of data related to what I had been studying in my home institution. Communicating ideas in academic Japanese to my hosts was not always easy, but it could be done with a dictionary and vocabulary list.

One important lesson this CIP taught me was to be realistic about my Japanese ability and keep short-term goals realistic. For me, it was sometimes tempting to aspire to native-level Japanese in the long term without figuring out all the small steps along the way or whether I even needed native-level Japanese to function meaningfully in a particular work context. I never imagined that something as simple as a vocabulary list would help so much – especially in a workplace where specialized vocabulary, more than grammar, is key. Having measured goals really helped me to make the most of my time at the museum and identify the ways in which I could contribute to the team.

A lot is said about the purported differences between the Japanese and non-Japanese work environments – that the former requires a greater attention to formality and hierarchy than the latter for instance. This is perhaps true to a degree, but what I encountered was not a rigid environment where everyone wore suits and bowed to their superiors at a set angle. Rather, people were in general quite relaxed. Hierarchy was not entirely eliminated – there were clearly staff with managerial responsibilities – and it was not fun and games all the time, since there was always work to be done. But in all, the whole system seemed to work out reasonably for most if not all. I think that while it is always good to have an idea of possible cultural differences between oneself and one’s hosts, what is equally or perhaps more important is to be observant of and sensitive to one’s specific context, rather than come in with a fixed idea of what one expects to find. Much like anywhere else, Japan is a big place, and there are all sorts of people and organizations, some of which will resemble the stereotypical Japanese work environment more than others. For me, the museum was a happy balance between the new and the familiar, and I especially owe a lot to the patience and open-mindedness of the staff I had the privilege of working under.

Jordan LaPointe: Assistant Language Teacher at Ohara Gakuin/Yoga at Tamisa Yoga Studio

投稿日時: 投稿者:

For the Spring semester, I split my time between teaching English as an ALT at Ohara Gakuin (which I go into detail about in my Fall semester post) and doing yoga at the Tamisa Yoga Studio on Teramachi. Ohara was very engaging and it was nice to see the students mature a little over the past 6 months as well as become more comfortable with my presence. Because of this experience, I now have some insight into teaching English to a variety of grades, which may come in handy if I decide to pursue an ALT position with JET.

In respect to yoga, I am learning A LOT, mostly that I am as flexible as a tree trunk. Fortunately, the studio has bilingual instructors so the transition into yoga with virtually no experience hasn’t been to bad. It is also a nice change of pace, to go from being a teacher to being a regular student. Also, I’ve gotten more opportunities to practice my listening skills and silent observation as I have attempted to discreetly check the actions of my fellow yoga practitioners to ensure that I’m doing things correctly…Overall, yoga has been a great experience and I recommend it to anyone interested, regardless of prior experience.

Regina Hong : Volunteering at the Kyoto Institute of Technology Museum and Archives

投稿日時: 投稿者:

One of the key reasons I had in applying to KCJS was its CIP component, particularly since I hoped to gain some experience volunteering and offering whatever skills I had to a museum. The path to obtaining this museum volunteer opportunity took some turns however; I was told that it was rather difficult to get a volunteer placement with a museum but remained reluctant to give up on this, and Professor Henry Smith, the former director of KCJS suggested that I could contact an acquaintance of his at the Kyoto Institute of Technology Museum and Archives, Namiki Sensei (the director of the museum), who offered me the opportunity to volunteer at the museum.

Every Monday, I would catch the train after lunch to Matsugasaki for a three-hour volunteer session. I worked mainly with two colleagues who arranged various tasks for me. These tasks were largely administrative; I might sort out and scan posters one day, catalogue and translate Chinese posters the other, and place letters of notification into letters for mailing on another day. One might think that such administrative tasks would not have “really” shown me what working in a museum is like, but I think that that might have been the point – the backbone of museum work often consists of simple but tedious administrative work.

These administrative tasks also provided a lens through which I could view the relationships that the museum had with their clients, and the work culture of the museum in general. Two particular incidents come to mind. The first was when I was sorting the letters notifying the museum’s patrons that there was a new exhibition on architectural models coming up when I noticed that they had been personalised, with the addressees’ names handwritten and a short line or two explaining the relevance of the museum to their organisations or interests. This was presumably done to encourage greater visitor turnout, although I think that it also highlights the care that the museum took in thinking about how to personalise these invitations. While I do not agree with essentialist descriptions of a “Japanese” work culture, I found this to be a unique aspect that I had not seen before at the other places that I had interned at in Singapore. It is unclear if this was a thing unique to museums in Japan or if it is a hallmark of museums in general but I think that it is reflective of the regard that this particular museum holds for its relationship with its clients.

The other incident was when there was a mistake with the phone number printed on one of the posters for an upcoming exhibition, necessitating the manual blanking out of the misinformation using correction tape. Although I had been assigned the task, my two colleagues worked with me, and other colleagues came over from time to time to help out. Contrary to the stiff rigidity I had been expecting, the work culture at the museum was wonderfully relaxed, with my colleagues being quite at ease with Namiki Sensei (I once jumped up to greet him when he walked into the room to speak to us but my colleagues remain seated and they began to chat casually). My colleagues took care to remind me to go for a break at 2:30 pm every session, and would offer me delicious snacks from the staff pantry. They were also keen to speak to me on a variety of topics, and always patient whenever I had any queries.

In terms of advice, I would say that, however cliché, one’s attitude in the course of a CIP activity that involves volunteering is key. To make that statement less ambiguous, I think that there are two key components to this attitude. The first is having an open mindset, and the other is being aware that it is less of what the opportunity can do for you and what you can offer it. Although I am a history major, I had never had prior experience with art history and had never thought I would work in an art museum. I admitted as much to Namiki Sensei while expressing interest in learning more about art history, and he took this into account, reassuring me that there was work I could do even with my lack of experience, such as translation. As such, I stumbled into this volunteer opportunity not knowing what was in store, but emerged from it with a new interest in looking at posters and thinking about their historical significance.

I also walk away with an added appreciation for the culture of omiyage. Bringing omiyage back from one’s travels is a very effective way of creating a conversation topic, and on a practical level, also helps feed hungry colleagues on their breaks!

Sabrina Bidus: Assistant English Teacher at Kyoto Bunkyo High School

投稿日時: 投稿者:

This semester, I had the opportunity to volunteer as an assistant English teacher at Kyoto Bunkyo High School. I wanted a chance to help Japanese students with English because I understand the struggle of learning a foreign language; and luckily, I was able to help this class of students who were preparing to study abroad in Canada. They were making presentations about something Kyoto-related that they enjoy—everything from calligraphy to green tea to the Shinsengumi—so not only did I have the opportunity to help them with written and spoken English, but I also learned a lot about Japan and Kyoto along the way.
Because they were preparing to study abroad, these students were enthusiastic and willing to learn—I was concerned that I would be in a class full of kids who did not really care about learning English, but this turned out not to be the case. I was also extremely surprised to be placed in a class of high school students; I expected elementary or junior high students, but not students much closer to my age. I thought that maybe I would get more attitude, less respect, and little cooperation from some students of this age. But as mentioned before, these students want to learn English and as a result, appreciated my help. There were times when I thought the students did not want my help or did not enjoy my presence in their classroom. Again, I turned out to be wrong. These students were just a bit shy or timid, and when I tried talking to them about their presentations, they often eagerly accepted my help. Whether it be listening to them practice, helping them with PowerPoints, assisting them with their pronunciation, or fixing their English presentation scripts, they usually listened closely and the changes they made reflected my commentary.
The last day I volunteered was particularly interesting. I finally got to see the final product of weeks of practice on the students’ part. But before that, I met another group of students and helped with their class. These students had studied in Australia and likewise were very motivated. I assisted with and judged a debate the students had—about the pros and cons of the internet and smartphones! I remember having to write on a similar topic for my Japanese class back home and therefore understood how difficult it could be. After the debate, they had to make up alternative endings to fairy tales and present them. Again, I was impressed, and their humor and personalities came across even in English. My favorite story ending was created by a couple of girls who had to write a new ending for Pinocchio. They said that Pinocchio and his father were spit out of the whale’s mouth—but into another whale’s mouth! (The End.) I was also amused by an extremely vocal female Japanese student who was playful with the teacher and the JET assistant; far from being the stereotype of a quiet Japanese student, she spoke her mind and asked me multiple questions. I appreciated her enthusiasm and it was a change from my encounter with the other class, where I had to ask the students questions to get them to speak with me.
My CIP was a great experience; I only regret that I was not able to help out more. Due to the conflicting schedules of KCJS and the Japanese school system, I could only volunteer at Kyoto Bunkyo High School a few times. Yet this time allowed me a new perspective on Japanese school life and a chance to help motivated students—students who, like me, will soon be studying abroad and living daily life in a foreign language.

Alan Aquino: La Carriere Cooking School

投稿日時: 投稿者:

IMG_1113

Last semester I joined a light music circle at Kyoto University. This semester however, because of final exams for the Japanese university students and their semester ending in March, I decided to pivot and instead take once-a-week cooking lessons at La Carriere Cooking School on Sanjo-Kawaramachi. I found out about the school through a group cooking event organized by KCJS during my fall semester.

Interpret this as you may, but classes are split up according to gender. Further, lesson prices are higher for female students than male students. The women have a wider selection of lessons at their disposal, while the ones that share the same content as men often have an extra dish incorporated into them. As a student, I received a generous 25% discount for my lessons from January to April.

The lessons are divided up as follows: Washoku, Yoshoku, and beginner’s skills. Each month there is one Washoku class, one Yoshoku class, and two beginner’s classes. Since I cook frequently back in America, I went into the first month feeling confident about the beginner’s courses, but decidedly more nervous about the more specialized classes.

For the first lesson or two, I would arrive an hour early and painstakingly translate the entire recipe sheets for the session’s two dishes. We were then directed to our demo room, consisting of 8 workstations made for two people apiece. At the start of the lesson, the head chef and his assistant would demo the entire cooking process for the night, referring to the sheets as needed and adding personal tips along the way. We would then be let loose, and working with our assigned partner (who changed every week), we would go through the sheets together and cook, assisting each other as needed.

What I quickly discovered was that I only needed to know the names and Kanji for ingredients unfamiliar to me, while the actually procedure I could pick up by ear pretty easily from the chef. If I ever got hung up on something, all I would need to do is wave down either the head chef or the assistant chef, or simply ask my partner. Yoshoku lessons became my favorites, because they used a lot of ingredients and techniques that I was already quite familiar with back home. In addition, I developed a fast friendship with the chef that always headed those lessons, a Japanese man who cooked in France for a few years of his life. Of all the teachers I had this semester, he was the one who engaged with me the most.

I kept all of the recipe sheets that I was given, and intend to use some of them again in the future when I’m cooking for myself. Over the course of the semester, I’ve learned a great deal more of Japanese vocabulary, gotten to know some new techniques, and interacted with people from a variety of backgrounds but united by a passion for cooking.

April Kim: Bazaar Cafe

投稿日時: 投稿者:

At least once or twice in my life, I have had the dream to work in or own a cafe. The scent of freshly baked bread, the calming sound of coffee machine brewing, the comfortable atmosphere where customers drink quietly while reading a novel…

…that idealistic perception of cafe life is not what I experienced while volunteering at the Bazaar Cafe. But that does not mean my time at Bazaar Cafe was a negative one.

First and foremost, what I wanted out of my CIP was simply this: to interact with Japanese people and understand their daily life within the community. At first, I had planned on sticking with a cooking class, but because of their infrequent meetings, I decided to look for other options. The Bazaar Cafe caught my interest because it was one that did not require previous food & service experience, it was close-by to the university, and finally because other KCJS students had volunteered there in the past.

At first it was hard to schedule a time to volunteer because the cafe is open on a few days of the week: Thursday, Friday and Saturday from 11:30 AM – 5:00PM to be exact. Because my school schedule consisted of an afternoon class everyday, it was hard to figure out the days I could volunteer for them. But despite this obstacle, I ended up volunteering at the cafe during my lunch time on Fridays (12:30 PM – 2:30PM). If one ends up having a pretty full class schedule, this place may not be the best choice.

What makes the Bazaar Cafe so unique is that beyond its cafe exterior, this place is a second-home and haven for those who do not have a “safe” place to be themselves. The casual atmosphere and family-like staff make the customers feel very relaxed to the point that sometimes they would play the musical instruments kept at the cafe. Furthermore, the cafe’s staff consist of many foreigners who speak Japanese. Japan, Thailand, Philippines, South America, South Korea, Vietnam, China…Bazaar Cafe staff members come from countries near and far. And although the level of ability varies among staff member, everyone understands their roles and still manage to share a joke or two, which contributes to the lively work environment.

Now to the nitty gritty. If you expect a large role in the cafe logistics, unless you are an actual cafe staff (and not volunteer) that will most likely not occur. It’s not to say that they do not appreciate the help of volunteers, but there are already so many co-workers and only a certain amount of cafe duties to be done. Therefore, depending on the time I volunteered, I would often be waiting around or asking for more jobs to do. But because there is already a system for the cafe staff, mainly the duties of dish washing, food prepping and meal serving were my most consistent duties. Therefore in order to compensate the sometimes slow time, I often started conversations with other staff members and pro-actively found duties to finish around the kitchen. I found that rather than always expecting a task, it is better to find things that one can do without being asked. Furthermore, the tasks are quite rudimentary and things you can experience working in the food service back home. So if you expect an exciting and “foreign” cafe experience, this cafe is not the place.

However, if you want to immerse yourself in a family-like work environment, then this place is a good option. Overall, my time at the cafe tends to be long only because I am able to work once a week. But volunteering on different days will let you meet the other workers and each day has a different atmosphere (because cafe regulars come on certain days). And at the end of a good day’s work (at least for lunch time), the cafe owner provides a small meal for all the staff.

If you are looking to volunteer at a cafe, I’d say be realistic. The behind the counters of a cafe or coffee shop, things are not as a rose-colored as one imagines it to be. Just like the jobs in the food & service industry, there are both interesting and mundane tasks…more of the latter. In the end, what makes this place interesting to me is the interactions I have with the workers and the relationships I make with them. It may not be for everybody, but it made me understand Japanese and non-Japanese people’s every day life in a different light.

Sarah O'Connell: the Kyoto National Museum

投稿日時: 投稿者:

“What makes a work of art Rinpa?”

Throughout my first semester at KCJS, this has been a question I have worked hard to answer.

When I first applied to KCJS, I did so primarily because KCJS offered the CIP component. Currently I am an East Asian Studies Major at Bryn Mawr College with a concentration in Japanese Art History, and at the time I applied it was my hope that getting into KCJS would bring me one foot closer to getting an internship at a Japanese art museum. Luckily, through the help of my artisans class professor, Monica Bethe, who had a contact at the Kyoto National Museum (京都国立博物館 Kyoto Kokuritsu Hakubutsukan), I was able to land my dream internship and work together with a crew of people to help visitors understand what special characteristics Rinpa art contains.

Almost every Wednesday at 12:30PM, I’d finish my lunch and then ride the 100 raku bus to the museum, or Kyohaku (京博) as it is commonly referred to by staff and peers alike. Once there, I would check in with the guard at the Western Gate before preceding to meet my CIP contact, who would let me know what type of job I would be working for the day. Some days, I was assigned basic training, such as learning the layout of the museum or studying the Rinpa art movement in Japanese and English. Other days, I got to participate in more hands-on activities, such as attending a class on how to teach Rinpa to elementary school students, or helping visitors make a fan inspired by Rinpa Design. Rinpa (or the “Aesthetics of the Capital” as the exhibition states) is made up of four main principles: 1) 繰り返す (kurikaesu) – Repetition　2)はみ出す (hamidasu) – Running off the Page　3)余白をとる (yohaku o toru) – Leaving an empty space (usually in the middle of the artwork, though it is not always limited to this) and 4)ジグザグ (Ziguzagu) – Creating an uneven pattern (so when repeating an object, making sure the object is not always at the same height level). Together, these four principles create a sense of movement in each Rinpa piece, and it has been my job this semester to faithfully teach children and adults alike how to recognize and explain these principles.

Another component of my CIP has simply been getting to know my peers. With the exception of my fellow college student interns, whom I spend the majority of my time working with, I also work with several adult volunteers and staff members. Because everyone comes from a different background and social standing, learning when to use 敬語 (keigo – Japanese polite language) and です/ます (desu/masu style – still polite, but a much less formal style of Japanese) has been a challenge. I also was able to attend one weekly staff meeting, which ended with everyone discussing the day’s events: what happened, how many people came to the exhibit, what troublesome things occurred, what positive things occurred, what was bothering us, what we were thankful for, etc. One person also brought traditional 和菓子 (Wagashi – aJapanese-style sweet) with them to the meeting, and everyone sat down to eat the snack together. In this regard, I have picked up and learned more about the Japanese work force than I initially expected.

The semester has not been an easy one. As I am treated the same as any other college intern at my CIP worksite, my schedule relies more on when my CIP contacts need me rather than the other way around. Thus, in order to meet my requirements this semester, I have also taken on several smaller volunteer positions in order to have enough credit, such as helping middle school students learn English, working at a tourist office, joining the photography circle, making nabe, etc. Overall, each experience has been a rewarding one, but my favorite experience so far has definitely been the Kyohaku. In the future, my CIP contact Yamakawa-san has promised to let me join in on more hands-on excavation sites (such as one in Osaka where I will be able to handle the rare objects directly), and to let me sit in on more academic lectures and meetings. Although I am sad this semester is coming to an end, I cannot wait to continue building my different CIP relationships next semester in the Spring.