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!

Gita Connolly: NICCO (NGO) Intern

After searching for NGOs in the Kyoto area that focus on international development, I decided to join NICCO for one of my CIP. NICCO stands for the Nippon International Cooperation for Community Development, and this NPO (as non-profits are called in Japan) supports self-reliance projects in developing countries around the world as well as right here in Japan. I mainly serve as a translator from Japanese or Hindi to English for online publications or information from partners on upcoming projects, but also get to enjoy just volunteering at events, such as their annual charity run along the river at Demachiyanagi. Although I am really close with some of the other interns, one staff member in particular took me under his wing, gifting me manga for kanji practice, teaching me about various Japanese historical events in the area, sharing interesting folk stories, and correcting my Japanese grammar in exchange for my help with English or explanations of American events like Thanksgiving and Black Friday.

I had many great experiences while interning, but the most interesting part was simply learning all of the small habits unique to Japanese office culture. I experienced more than my fair share of mishaps and misunderstandings during my fifteen hours/week at NICCO, especially when just joining the office. When I showed up to the NICCO office (a cozy machiya-style building) for the first time to “talk with them”, I met with four staff members for an hour or so and answered questions. To my surprise, afterwards they asked me to walk into the main office room (momentarily pausing work for everyone else seated at their desks, typing away) to give a brief self-introduction.  I realized later that our little chat was actually considered an interview, and somehow I had managed to pass their intern criteria and that’s why they had gone ahead and introduced me as a new team member.

The second time I came into the office, when I had just sat down at the intern desk, one of the staff members suddenly announced that some kind of meeting was starting and everyone around the room stood up immediately. After a couple seconds I realized that they were holding this meeting for my sake, and promptly (embarrassedly) stood up while everyone began very formally introducing themselves in keigo. Since I was only used to attending meetings where people either stand up and talk one at a time so that everyone focuses on them, or we all just stay seated, the whole process of going around the room while everyone is standing and presenting overly-formal intros was quite a surprise. Despite these formal intros, however, we all share snacks and make jokes in a very friendly work environment, with one co-worker (to my great surprise and amusement) even laughingly commenting on my Kansai-ben. It is simply a fact of office culture that the standard soro soro shitsureishimasu-es upon leaving are always met with a hearty assault of otsukarasamadesu-es.

I’m especially entertained by one other office tradition, the aizuchi (emphatic interjections to show that they are listening) that everyone uses while talking to the founder of NICCO or while on the phone. Other than just being extremely polite to their superiors (as an employee would do in any office), they speak in a voice about an octave higher, use hesitant tones to ask questions that they already know the answer to, or soften even the smallest of requests. Another intern and I looked at each other and tried not to laugh as, just a couple meters away, one co-worker emitted an enthusiastic “hai!” every two seconds while the shachou explained directions. The best part is, I notice a lot of people smile to themselves while watching others make these seemingly-ridiculous aizuchi, and yet these laughing people make the same exact aizuchi when talking to the shachou as well. I guess if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

Adam Agustin: Assistant English Teacher at Ohara Gakuin

For my CIP, I chose to be an English Assistant at Ohara Gakuin, a combined elementary and middle school with about 70 total students in the Northern Kyoto area. Because I do some teaching and tutoring back at my home institution, this CIP was right up my alley and I would be able to take some teaching skills with me when I go back home. Not to mention, I would be able to experience the Japanese lifestyle in many ways that other people wouldn’t get the chance to otherwise.

I remember my first trip up to Ohara ― it was about a 50 minute commute up to the school, and I was so nervous to meet the hosting English teacher and the students. I got to the school, my anxious self practically shaking, and introduced myself to the English teacher, Maruta sensei. Maruta sensei was incredibly nice and welcoming, and he introduced me to the Principal and Vice-Principal of the school as well as other teachers and staff. He also gave me a complete tour of the school and introduced me to some of his students before we reached the classroom where we had our first lesson. Luckily, another english teacher from the JET program, was also there to help me get accustomed to the job. I didn’t do much the first day, but I observed the class activities for the day and got to do some english conversation with the students. The kids were really polite and cheerful, a lot of them very eager and enthusiastic to meet me. After that day, I wasn’t so sure why I was so nervous in the beginning.

For the following visits to Ohara, I was in charge of making and presenting to the students a 15 minute presentation in English about my life, where I’m from, my hobbies and interests, etc. For each day I came, I would see a different class year (each class year had their own classroom because it was such a small school), starting with the 9th graders and ending with the 3rd graders. Of course, as I made my way down to the younger students, I also had to change my pace and how much English I had to translate in my presentation. Although presenting got fairly difficult as time progressed, the students were still very enthusiastic and very excited to hear much about my life in the US as well as about myself. The younger kids especially were amazed, and it was so cute to see them try their best at trying to communicate to me. After the presentation, I would normally help out with the planned activities that the teacher had for the day, including but not limited to conversation practice, vocabulary memorization games, pronunciation practice, listening practice, etc. I wasn’t able to plan for the classes as much as I had originally thought, but the English teacher would do his best to incorporate my strengths and knowledge to the class beforehand. Although the classes were relatively short (only about 50 minutes), they were jam-packed with engaging activities for the kids, and I had a blast teaching alongside Maruta sensei.

Other than the presentations and activities, I tried to engage with the students in other ways and partake in many parts of their extracurricular lives. For example, in Japanese schools, before class they have the students help in cleaning up the school (i.e. sweeping/mopping the floors, throwing away trash, erasing the boards) and some days I would help them clean up. One fun thing that I remember during those times is how they played rock-paper-scissors (jan-ken) to see who would be in charge of taking out the trash (and most times that person would be me…). Although not the most fun task to do, it would be a chance for me to talk to the students of different classrooms and help them with their english. Other than that, I had the chance to see their school play and the arts and crafts they made for the school festival, and also sit in on their election of class representatives for the next class year. Sometimes, when given the chance, I would also play piano or ukulele for them ― they always go crazy for those kinds of things. I tried my best to get myself involved not only in the classroom, but in other aspects of the Japanese school lifestyle.

Thanks to my involvement as an English teacher for the CIP program, I was able to get a hands-on look into the Japanese education system, and from that I noticed a lot of interesting things. Of the many things, I think one of the most interesting was the relationship between the older kids and the younger kids. Because Ohara is such a small school, with a large range of ages, I was amazed to see the camaraderie between the students, a lot of times the older students acted as older brothers and sisters for the younger kids and they would always help each other out. In this small community, the teachers really foster a role model relationship among its students ― the older students give the younger students someone to look up to and motivate them to grow in certain ways. Of course, these relationships are mutual and help give these students a strong basis for character, something that I believe that schools in America don’t always particularly emphasize in educational settings.

Along with the many good things that came with this experience, there were also some points during the teaching that I found difficult. One of those was the fact that I wasn’t able to get establish as strong a relationship with the students as much as I thought I would. Being that I would only go to Ohara for 2 hours at a time every week, especially visiting different sets of students each time, I wasn’t able to truly get to know each of the students as much as I had thought I would. In hindsight, I hoped that I could have been able to spend more time with each class, but then again, with my already tight schedule with classwork and travel around Kyoto, it seems difficult to do so.

With that aside, reflecting on my experiences as an English teacher at Ohara this semester, I think that it was an incredibly valuable and fun experience to be a part of. Seeing the smiles on these kids faces, as well as their passion and enthusiasm to learn English, brightened my day each and every time I made a visit. I can’t imagine my study abroad experience in Kyoto without having done this CIP. To not only be able to experience the Japanese lifestyle in a unique way, but also have the chance to help change the perspectives of each of these kids is something that I would greatly recommend to others that are thinking of doing the same kind of CIP activity. Good luck to those choosing their CIP!

Phillip Hicks: Pacorn Tennis Circle

For my semester in Kyoto, I played tennis as part of the Pacorn tennis circle. The group would meet every day except for Wednesday, and would play on several courts at a large tennis center. On average, 30 people would attend, being anywhere from 18 to 60 years old with varying skill levels. Each session had different groups of people, however there were a few regulars who I got to know during my time in Pacorn. Each practice started with a warm-up, usually with four to six people on a court, and would include groundstrokes, serves, and volleys. After everyone was ready, we would start a set of doubles or a baseline game.

My first practice started off a bit rocky, however as the day progressed, I found that everyone was very friendly and didn’t worry too much about honorifics or social hierarchies. Instead, everyone just wanted to hit and have a good time. This attitude remained the same for my other practices, with the club members being eager to hit and talk during the breaks.

Playing tennis in Japan was very similar to playing in the US, with many of the words and drills being identical. In addition, since many of the other members who I hit with were around my age, our playing styles were also quite close. On the other hand, the signal for “out” in Japan is what could be considered “in” in the US, leading to some miscommunications. In addition, Japanese tennis players seemed to be more reserved than their American counterparts, with few relying on loud grunts and even fewer expressing anger on the court.

From casually chatting with locals to competitive match play, my CIP experience as part of the Pacorn tennis circle has been fantastic. I would highly recommend it to anyone who wants to meet new people and get some great exercise.

 

Rebecca N. Clark: Iaidô (Japanese Swordsmanship)

   Iaidô is a sport —and an art— that I’ve wanted to learn since I first heard of its existence several years ago as a freshman in college. The fluid power and steady grace of iaidô practitioners’ movement transfixed me as I replayed YouTube videos and followed along as best I could as swords flashed through the air.

 

Presentation of members before the grand master at a joint gathering of dojos

When I learned that I had been accepted into the KCJS program with its Community Involvement Project (CIP) requirements for us students, my top pick for the CIP was very obvious. With the assistance of the teachers and staff, I was able to find and join an iaidô dôjô in nearby Hirakata city and soon found myself immersed in a vibrant, close-knit community of martial arts enthusiasts. The people I met there have been nothing short of kind and helpful, making sure that, even with the language barrier, I am able to make it to practices and luncheons every week (the dôjô has no physical presence and as a result, practices are held at a different community center each weekend), and they have even included me in the carpool system that ensures members of all ages and locales are able to arrive on time.

Putting on the iaidô uniform proved to a ready catalyst for bonding among myself and the other female members. We all chuckled good-naturedly over my utter confusion as I attempted to wrangle a kaku obi —a stiff cloth wound around the waist to hold the sword

From top to bottom, left to right: sword carrying case; cloth sword cover; kimono; hakama; kaku obi; iaitô; sheath; knee pads

and belt the kimono— into place and keep my hakama —wide-legged pants— in place throughout the three-hour practices. This same uniform also quickly proved to be my biggest reminded of the kindness and generosity of my dôjô-mates. Every time I look in the mirror of the community center’s practice hall, I see the soft gray of my kimono, the heavy black cotton of my hakama, and the lacquered sheath of my iaitô —a blunt-edged sword— and am reminded of how these items were either gifted or loaned to me so that I could practice with the proper equipment from day one. For example, when we figured out that the iaitô I had been using was hindering me because of the length, a member volunteered his extra iaitô that was short enough for someone with my five-foot-even stature to wield.

As with any new sport, I had to learn a whole new way of moving and then how to control each of these motions —such as the initially awkward motion of drawing a sword— in a process that, unsurprisingly, had its hiccups. One such instance is how I, unused to the wide flowing sleeves of my kimono, have a tendency to catch the hilt of my iaitô in the cuff while drawing. In response, the elder gentleman who oversees my training paused the lesson and carefully explained to me how to remedy the problem with a needle and thread when I got home by making the sleeve opening smaller and so allowing me to move more freely. Moments like this, where help and instruction are so readily offered with a smile and steady patience, have come to define my time at the iaidô dôjô and I wear the reminder of my dôjô-mates’ kindness every time I step out onto the mats alongside them.