Raynor Mesa: Go Classes

There are many sizes of boards in go. Although the standard is a square of nineteen rows by nineteen rows, you can use even smaller boards; for example, I started learning go on a nine by nine board. Naturally, as you increase the size of the board, the difficulty of playing on it increases: while a nine by nine board has only eighty-one possible places to put a stone, a standard board has a total of 361. Moreover, although the number of places only increases four times, the number of possible plays increases exponentially. A game of go on a standard board has so many potential plays that even the strongest super computers cannot model every possibility.

The sheer number of possibilities is why go is so difficult. It’s said that the best way to learn go is to lose your first fifty games, then keep playing anyway. For me–after taking weekly classes for seven weeks–I was only able to move on from the simple nine by nine board in the last two weeks, after a total of roughly fifteen hours of classes.

Still, going from losing every game on a nine by nine board, to barely winning a match on a thirteen by thirteen board, represents significant progress. More importantly, my Japanese classmates have been a constant source of help. Because I am undoubtedly the most inexperienced member of the class, all of the people I practice against have been invaluable sources of help and experience. Of course, mistakes abound on my part: poorly positioned pieces, missed opportunities, and badly constructed strategies. But my classmates always step in to reassure and assist me–they show me what I could have done better, what to keep in mind for next time, what they themselves had done. For a novice such as myself, such advice in a welcoming environment make my experience that much easier and memorable.

And the complement to their aid when I lose, is their praise when I win (even if rarely). I am by no means skilled at go. But the friendliness and warmth of my classmates means every class I go to is memorable and enjoyable, even on days when I do nothing but lose.

Rachael Kane: Pottery Classes

For my CIP I took pottery classes in the Higashiyama district of Kyoto. This area is known for it’s having a wide variety of pottery shops among its curving back alleys. I attend weekly classes in a studio there. The student body is mostly older, mainly past retirement age. There are two teachers who wander around and help students as they pursue independent projects. Luckily, I had some experience in ceramics, so it was less of a shock to be asked to self-direct my own study.

The people that regularly come to the open studio are local artisans in their own right. This creates a very interesting dynamic within the studio, encouraging collaboration and learning between not only the teachers and the students but amongst the students as well. Despite the incredible quality of the work done in the studio, there is no judgment placed on those who are less skilled.  The congenial atmosphere serves to make visitors feel comfortable, but it does not take long to realize that the uchi/soto dichotomy is still heavily present in the space. Many things are not labeled and procedures, and locations are often not explicitly disclosed. Between the distinctive vocabulary, significant use of kansai-ben and importance of implicit instruction, communication was definitely difficult at points.

The experience was overall, quite rewarding. The environment provided a unique viewpoint in the small artisan community in Kyoto, traditional industries and teacher/student relationships. While I may not have learned very much about pottery, I certainly gained valuable exposure to language usage and culture.

This is a photograph of the first piece I worked on this semester.

kanezomug

Augustus Chow: Zen

For my CIP this semester, I participated in Zen meditation. Prior to KCJS, my knowledge of Zen was limited to what I had seen in manga or anime or a few brief descriptions from various classes. I remember very clearly hearing in one business class when I was a freshman that many American professionals came to Japan for a couple weeks every year to study Zen and focus their minds by learning the Japanese methods. Honestly, I found the statement questionable and perhaps of a slight orientalist bent, and I can’t say that has changed much from my experience with Zen.

As a practice, even now, I can’t say that I understand Zen or have really gotten very good at it. As such, I also can’t say that I’ve noticed any distinct improvements to my mindset. There are a couple misconceptions about Zen that I would like to clear up. From various media, you see Zen meditation as a monk slapping your shoulder with a stick, if you do anything wrong. I had the impression that getting slapped was a bad thing and that you got slapped if you moved around or weren’t focusing on Zen. So, the first time, I stayed still and endured brutal agony from losing sensation in my lower limbs after an hour and then trying to stand up; the position is not the comfiest. The priest explained to the group later that you’re supposed to bow to the priest to get him to slap you with the stick. Then, after getting slapped, you can readjust your posture—which I took to mean let your blood circulate again. Sure enough, it helps a lot.

The discomfort does seem to be an important aspect of the meditation. Focusing on doing so many difficult to maintain aspects of the meditation at once means your mind has no chance to wander off or fret about something else. So, even if though don’t come out centered and on target for everything in the next week, I do enjoy an hour of not really thinking or worrying about anything, which is actually pretty nice. In KCJS, you build up a lot of stress. While you’re in Kyoto, you’re balancing learning Japanese, various other classes, and trying to experience Japan as much as possible. Sometimes, you where yourself out trying to do it all, and having a CIP where you can just let it all go rather than feel yet another thing to stress out about helps.

As for my interactions with people during Zen, I have to say they’re rather limited. You have an hour to meditate, and you do that in silence. Afterwards, everyone goes to another room for ten minutes and you get to enjoy a small snack and some tea. During that time, there is a little talking, mostly on the part of the priest, he talks to just about everyone briefly, while everyone waits their turn for the snack and green tea. When everyone is done, the priest escorts you out of the temple and ushers you home. I haven’t experienced that much in terms of the same people showing up. A couple people show up fairly regularly, but I’d say the vast majority show up once and you never see them again. From what I understood of many conversations I’ve overheard, a lot of people do it, because they’re touring Kyoto and know that there are temples where you can practice Zen, so they like to give it a try.

My actual time to talk to and interact with people is very quietly while waiting for tea and for a few minutes if we walk in the same direction leaving the temple. All told, I’d say that amounts to a maximum of twelve or fifteen minutes per session, provided I find someone interested in talking. A lot of my conversations amount to their curiosity in a foreigner attending a Zen meditation lesson, so I usually have the same conversation topic rehearsed: what have I done in Kyoto, where do I live, why did I come to Kyoto, and what am I studying now. So those conversations are usually bust. If I’m lucky, they’re interested in going abroad or have gone abroad, or they know a bit about some interest of mine.

There are a couple things I wish I did in order to increase my chances to interact with Japanese people during CIP. For one thing, the priest looks pretty busy, but he seems like a friendly person. I regret not trying to speak to him more, and I’d recommend trying to do so. Another thing that could increase talking chances is to arrive earlier than the appointed time. People tend to gather before hand and stand around doing nothing. It’s not a bad chance to try talking them up.

Jiajing Gao: Pottery Class

For my CIP, I took a pottery class at a studio called Zuikougama, near Higashiyamananajo. I went every Saturday and stayed for about three hours each class. The ceramic classes were run very differently in Japan comparing to America. The ceramic class I took at Boston University looked at ceramic from an architectural point of view. Therefore, taking a real pottery class in Japan was a very nice experience for me.

The studio was well organized in a very nice environment. In total, there were about 15 students in the class, and most of the people were elderlies who were very professional. The studio provided tools, glaze and clay, so that I never had to carry things around, and the classroom was setup in a convenient way. The teachers were patient, and they were always available for questions.

For me, the hardest part was the first class when the teacher explained the steps people followed in order to finish a piece. Language barrier was limiting me to be more creative with my projects because I could not fully express myself. However, the class gave students a lot of freedom to do what they liked. In terms of Japanese practice, it was little hard to do during the classes. Because most of people were elderlies, topics were limited, and as a pottery class, the environment was meant to be quiet, starting a conversation was only appropriate at certain times.

I have enjoyed spending my Saturday mornings doing pottery at Zuikougama, and if anyone is interested in Japanese pottery, I recommend taking this class as your CIP.

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.

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.

Peaky Yuter: Go

Mid semester I decided that I wanted to add a new activity to my already long list of extracurriculars, Go. For those of you unfamiliar Go is a turn-based game in which players place black and white stones trying to capture as much territory of the board as possible. Entering the “Go Salon” was an experience. Imagine my surprise when what first comes into view is some 20 Go boards laid out on tables crowding a medium sized room. Sitting at these tables is sea of greying hair. In short, everyone else is old. And when I say old, I precisely mean at a minimum of 40 years greater I am. Sensei starts me out on a smaller 9×9 board playing the Ishitori game. This is a game where each opponent is trying to capture at least one stone from the other. My first opponent is Tanaka-san who is quite the lovable Obaasan on the outside, but hidden behind the mask is a shrewd and cunning player. Another interesting detail is that everyone who comes is female. Either because most men are working on a Monday from 1-5 pm or another reason, the group I consistently play is female. In all honesty, interacting with the various Obaasan who come is somewhat difficult. They speak with rather strong Kansai-ben and seem to be content playing silently except for a comment about the weather every now and then. After about the 4th time coming I finally became an actual Go player—playing on a 19×19 not the small 9×9—and decide to join the Saturday group for a change. The demographic is much different, having men making up a third of the group and including ones whom were not much older than I was. The men were also generally talkative which added a welcome change. With the younger men, who were just learning the game, surprisingly I was treated with similar regard to that of a Senpai showing them the results. As a general point, the younger members of the group were all extremely polite. With the older men, after going beyond the weather pleasantries, we talked about the job outlook in japan and my future plans in relation to Japan. Every Monday—and sometimes Saturday—I enter an arena where, regardless of age, only the best survive. Overall this is perhaps the best “Go”-ing away present I could have hoped for!

レーノール・メサ:囲碁の教室

僕のCIPは囲碁の授業です。毎週月曜日、四条のそばの京都囲碁サロンへ行って、十人ぐらいの生徒と囲碁を習っています。そのサロンはちょっと小さいですが、教室の雰囲気は楽しいです。

日本に来る前に、囲碁を聞いたことはありましたけど、したことはありませんでした。囲碁の基本的なルールは一見、簡単そうです。黒い石を持つ人がいて、相手は白い石を持ちます。黒は最初に石を置いて、それから相手が置きます。目標が相手の石を囲むことだから、一番多くの石を囲んだ人が勝ちます。でも、石を置くときに、多数の可能性があります。

戦略的に石を置くことを習うのは囲碁の難しさです。僕は囲碁をし始めたばかりだから、一般的に囲碁を戦略的にあまりしません。それで、何回も負けたけど、たくさんの経験を得てきています。相手は一般的にお年寄りで、囲碁をする間に話すことは楽しいです。でも、まだ三週間しか行っていないので、これからです。

ロザリー・ガイ:京都囲碁サロン

私は先学期と同じように毎週月曜日に四条堀川の近くにある京都囲碁サロンに行っています。そこで、1時から5時頃まで、他の学生と一緒に囲碁を打って、囲碁の理論と定石などを学びます。サロンの皆は、私と他のKCJSの学生以外、ほとんど60歳以上ですが、いつも元気に囲碁を打ちます。みんなはいつも最初に「こんにちは」などの挨拶をして部屋に入って、そして先生が前に行って囲碁教室を始めるまで他の人と話したりします。そして1時頃、先生が囲碁の問題を皆とし始めますが、誰かの答えが間違っても、問題の最後まで打ちます。そしてサロンの人はどこが正しくなかったかを先生に説明していただいて、1時半から試合をします。

サロンの中に、掲示板があって、みんなの名前とランキングが書いてあります。私は1月から今までずっと18級でした。級に応じて人のハンデが変わるので、それを決めるために書いてありますが、それを見ると、早く上に上がりたい気持ちが強くなってきます。でも、先生は負けても勉強だとおっしゃるので、「負けは勝ち」の意味がしっかりわかるようになるまで、18級の私は頑張り続けます。

レイチェル・ケイン:陶芸教室

私のCIPは陶芸教室です。土曜日に、静かな道の古い建物にある教室に行っています。この教室は本当に面白いです。先生が二人いらして、毎週末、12人ぐらい来ます。あまり若い人は来ていないから、よく私は中年の人と話しています。皆んな関西弁を使っていて、誰も英語が分かりません。そして、陶芸教室ではたくさん新しい語彙が使われています。これはちょっと難しいと思います。

毎週末、特定のプロジェクトはなくて、自分で次のプロジェクトを決めます。私の最初のプロジェクトは小さいボウルを作ることです。私はあまり上手じゃないですけど、先生はとても親切な方です。このスタジオには初心者から熟練の職人までいます。皆んな私にたくさん教えてくれます。

これから、もっと複雑なプロジェクトをしたいです。でも、この教室は本当に楽しいと思います。色々な人と話せるし、陶芸は綺麗だし、面白いです。芸術が好きだたら、本当に陶芸教室はいい経験で、楽しんでいます。