Connie Situ: Tea Ceremony

Sado, or tea ceremony, is a traditional part of the Japanese culture where beautifully coordinated movements are executed to not just serve matcha but also mentally pursuing the essence of the act. In my sado CIP this semester, I was able to learn a lot of the deeper meanings behind what is used during a tea ceremony depending on the seasons as well as successfully learning the way of a bon temae, or a tea ceremony on a tray. 

We had our sado lessons every Tuesday for a couple hours in a very beautiful chashitsu with a view of a beautiful river underneath an old ryokan. Our sensei is a very experienced and elegant sado teacher with many years under her belt. She was so incredibly kind to us throughout the semester and we got to experience a hinamatsuri lunch followed by wagashi and matcha, a tea ceremony at Heian Shrine for the sakura season, as well as a hanami lunch under the beautiful sakura trees in Shiga-ken. 

For any incoming students who is interested in learning sado, I encourage you to give it a try as it is something so different from anything I’ve ever done before. And because it is such a traditional part of the Japanese culture with so much history and different aspects to it, being able to experience it in the heart of Kyoto was a mind-opening experience.

Alexis Jones: Yoga

My CIP activity was doing yoga every Friday or Thursday at Yoga Tamisa studio near Karasuma Oike station. I was instructed by Asako sensei and, usually, in the room in the attached picture (all in Japanese).

I really enjoyed the course because I always felt included and the more I went, the kinder I felt the staff became. It was very relaxing after a long week and I enjoyed having conversations with Asako sensei and other participants after sessions. 

If you are someone that wants a CIP that’ll bring you tranquility, I strongly suggest participating in yoga because you won’t feel different from anyone else, participants range all skill levels, and everyone is extremely kind.

Ryan Cunningham: Cooking at La Carriere

My CIP this semester has been at Taiwa’s La Carriere culinary school in Kyoto. La Carriere offers a variety of lessons (including dessert and baking tutorials), although I largely participated in group introductory cooking lessons conducted in Japanese.

La Carriere was a blast – it was calming and fun cooking and learning to make different kinds of dishes (and eating the product of our hard work felt so redeeming). It was a bit tricky to keep up with the Japanese lessons at times, but the teachers were understanding and helped us keep pace.

I would advise new students to not be afraid to try activities that look intimidating. I would also say it’s important to keep your expectations realistic when choosing your CIP activity. I expected the CIP of a cooking lesson to be an incredibly social place where I could meet new friends, but as it turns out the fast-paced environment of an instructor-led lesson isn’t the best place for that. Nonetheless, I had a great experience and a blast at La Carriere.

Anisa Khatana: Weaving Lessons

Thanks to Professor Rinne and Nakata-sensei’s research and support, I had the opportunity to takelessons from Kawasaki-sensei, a weaving teacher, obi weaver, and contemporary artist based near Kitaoji station. Once a week, I took the train to Kawasaki-sensei’s classroom and spent around 5-6 hours (including a break for tea, coffee, and sweets!) learning two styles of hand-weaving called hiraori and tsudzureori (tapestry weaving), typically alongside one to three other private students.

My time in Kawasaki-sensei’s classroom has been an experience that I’ll treasure forever. When I met him, I had never touched a loom—and in the weeks that followed, I prepared and hand-wove hiraori scarves and samples as well as a tapestry-weave genkan mat that I designed with a little sketch. I’m incredibly grateful for the time I got to spend with the loom, but I’m equally if not more grateful for the personal connections that I made over the weeks. Assimilating and becoming comfortable in the classroom was a slow process—we communicated exclusively in Japanese, I was the only foreigner, and everyone was at least ten years older than me—but deeply rewarding even in the most subtle ways.

Kawasaki-sensei, his wife, and his other students are all lovely people who have repeatedly amazed me with their dedication, knowledge, and kindness. To future students—if you’re someone who feels drawn to fiber arts, this is your sign to pursue that interest in Kyoto. If that’s not you—don’t let fear of discomfort and uncertainty keep you from what could be an incredible experience! Keep an open mind, be genuine and thoughtful, and do your best—the rest will come with time.

Geetanjali Gandhe: Tea Ceremony Lessons

For my CIP I took tea ceremony, or sadou, lessons with Fujimura Sensei. The KCJS office introduced us to Fujimura Sensei and it seems like KCJS has a long relationship with her. While normally the study of sadou takes decades and is a very lengthy process, since we only had one semester Fujimura sensei customized the lessons for us so that we were able to end by being able to perform the tea ceremonies, or the obon-temae. The tea room is a little out of the way in Takagamine, but the environment is absolutely stunning and so the commute is worth it. The tea room is situated right over a river in a silent forest, so you can hear the sound of the water while in the tea room. Sensei is an extremely elegant woman who is also one of the most precious and sweetest people I have ever met. She even made a bento for us on two occasions, for the Doll Festival and cherry blossom viewing, and of course we got to enjoy the most exquisite wagashi, or seasonal Japanese confectionary every class. The thing that was the most meaningful for me was that in every lesson sensei would also make a point to talk about how to use the philosophy that sadou teaches us and incorporate it into our busy, stressful everyday lives.

The tea ceremony is much more than just the consumption of high-quality matcha and wagashi. The actions performed in the tea room and during the tea ceremony are an allegory for a life well-lived; a life full of humility, simplicity, respect for others, and being in tune with the rhythms of nature. These values are also, not incidentally, the most quintessential of Japanese values. In the tea room, every movement is measured; every moment is treated as a blessing. Therefore, to understand tea in the Japanese context is to come to understand the most fundamental Japanese values.

So if you’re looking to get an authentic cultural experience, I would highly recommend doing sadou lessons. If our sensei continues to teach exchange students, I would dare say that there’s no better experience that you can have in Kyoto; everything was just perfect. I hope to continue practicing even when I return home. Sensei even contacted a shop she knows so that we can pick up all the tea ceremony tools needed before returning.

Zackary Entwistle: Shakuhachi

I learned how to play shakuhachi for my CIP. Every Thursday I received private lessons from Kawamiya-san for around two hours where I was taught the fundamentals of the instrument, and every Tuesday I put what I learned at my lesson into context by playing with Iwazaki-sensei’s ensemble of koto, shamisen, and shakuhachi players. These lessons and rehearsals culminated with two performances, one where I played a duet with my private lesson teacher and another where I performed a couple pieces with the larger ensemble.

I adored my experience learning shakuhachi here in Kyoto. I’ll cherish not only my newly acquired (but still extremely rudimentary) ability to play this instrument I had never even heard in person before coming to this country, but also the memories I made from practicing at rehearsals, getting dinner with my teachers, and going to parties together after the performances. Of course there were also times when I struggled, as hardship is inherent to learning a new instrument, and especially finding time to practice at home in addition to scheduled practices twice a week was challenging to do during a short study abroad experience. But overall, I couldn’t have dreamed of a cooler way to interact authentically with Japanese people and learn about traditional Japanese culture, improving my language skills along the way too.

For any incoming students thinking of learning a new instrument as your CIP, just make sure you’re okay with the sacrifices first. Your time abroad is short and an activity that requires diligent practice like this will drain any freetime left in your already extremely packed study abroad schedule; my time spent on shakuhachi-related activities would sum to more than 10 hours most weeks. I was happy to let shakuhachi be such a big part of my study abroad experience, but you should be mindful of the commitments you’re making before you make them.

(See the full performance here: youtu.be/7RdvqViO6cI)

Chris Elson: Doshisha KGK (Bible Study), Kyoto International Church, Mustard Seed

For my CIP, I wanted to involve my Christian faith in some way. I included my activities of going to two different international Church (Kyoto International Church and Mustard Seed) and the student Bible study as part of my CIP activities. Church was held every Sunday: I normally go to KIC, but when it was not in person, I went to Mustard Seed. KIC was located near Kyoto University and Mustard Seed at Teramachi. As for KGK, they had 3 meetings a week, around 4:00PM on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. I usually only went to the Thursday meeting.

At KIC, my pastor gave the sermon in Japanese, but there were subtitles that he made himself that would appear on the screen behind him so I had no difficulty understanding. Mustard Seed had a live-translator so the English and Japanese speaking was constant. Spiritually, they were both very fulfilling and if anyone is looking for a Church, I recommended these two. For my Japanese Studies, I appreciated the KIC sermon more, as I would start translating in my head before I read the subtitles. At both Churches, there were incredibly kind people, both Japanese and foreigners. Honestly, this gave me the opportunity to reach beyond my student community and had a chance to connect with some what felt like “real” people. It was a good experience with Japanese, but I felt that maybe I should’ve done more in the Church regard. I did go to some things, but as a younger person, I paradoxically did not want to do the events in favor of doing homework or hang out with my friends. The advice I would give would be to really buy into the community and hang out with them.

As for KGK, I ended up becoming really good friends with my Bible Study leader. She ended up helping translate, clarifying, and even going as far as to prepare a translated sheet that was normally in Japanese. She ended up becoming someone I would hang out with regularly and always someone I could count on. This type of friendship is one of the reasons why I wanted to join a Japanese activity—-the chance to connect with Japanese students that translate into real world experiences is a natural consequence of something as intimate as Bible study. For that reason, I am happy. As for the Bible Study itself, it was a really interesting look into how Japanese Christian students interact with Christianity. Given that Japan is a much less Christian society than a place like America, the sessions were what I would describe as a little more “distance,” but it was still a place to be vulnerable, honest, and connection. We would read multiple passages from the Bible (usually in Japanese) and then discuss questions from a question sheet. As for Japanese, I honestly struggled a lot. It was difficult to try not to interrupt the kind of sanctity of Bible Study and letting the students explore and deepen their faith, while still wanting them to accommodate me. I often found myself just zoning out as the Japanese would get very fast, and I gave up trying understand multiple times just to try again later. But this sort of trial by fire really did have a positive impact on my Japanese, I believe. Towards the later sessions, I found myself naturally understanding more, and needing less clarification when I gave an answer.

I wanted to learn more about how to speak the Japanese version of “Christianese.” I think I was mildly successful. I think I focused a lot of the Japanese speaking aspect of this CIP, and thus, it’s been a relatively spiritually dry experience, so I warn Christians to be weary about this aspect. Yet, at times, there were deep revelations and spiritual moments, so I would still recommend this CIP.

Angelie Miranda: Calligraphy Lessons

Every Thursday, I would walk about half an hour from the Doshisha-Imadegawa campus to Asakusa-sensei’s house to take calligraphy (shodou) lessons. I always enjoyed my walks to shodou because it was a quieter suburban part of Kyoto that I wouldn’t otherwise explore. Once there, I was joined by Asakusa-sensei’s other regular students (never more than 5 at a time). They were mostly middle-aged women, but very occasionally another college student or child would join us. This at first was a little disappointing because I had been looking forward to making Japanese friends my age, but these women were all so sweet and welcoming that I quickly got past this feeling and looked forward to going back every week.

I had some experience doing shodou before I came to KCJS, but this was the first time having a teacher supervise my work so closely. I learned how to hold the brush, the amount of pressure required for each stroke, and what the correct posture is. Having a teacher to remind me of these details that are so easy to miss when you’re focused on copying the characters in the example booklet made a huge difference in my rate of progress. Not only was she technically helpful, Asakusa-sensei and the other ladies were encouraging me and pairing critiques with compliments. I wasn’t sure what to make of all their positive feedback because I was a beginner and I worried they were being overly friendly, but over time I realized that shodou isn’t always about right and wrong. While there are certainly standards for what makes a balanced work, a lot of the times, what I viewed as a mistake was simply seen as another style of writing the character.

During the shodou lesson, we would usually take a tea and cookies break. Sometimes it was homemade cookies that Asakusa-sensei’s daughter made and other times one of the students brought in a little snack. Seeing this culture of exchanging little sweets I brought my own (a treat called torimon from Fukuoka) that I shared with everyone that week. Though I was always eager to get back to my shodou, I really enjoyed these breaks because it allowed me to both interact with the others more intentionally and observe the interactions among these Japanese women, which did include puzzling through some Kansai-ben.

I decided upon this CIP because it was an activity that I would be able to continue on my own once I returned to the States. However, as much as I enjoyed learning shodou and seeing my progress over time, what I’ll remember is the peaceful and warm environment that Asakusa-sensei and her students created.

Anne Wen: Yosakoi Traditional Dance, Fly Dance Studio, Kyoto Student Impact (Christian Group)

I joined three different activities to fulfill my community involvement project, in part because each project lasted shorter than I expected and the circles in Japan had eligibility constraints. For starters, I spent two weeks practicing with Doshisha University’s Yosakoi traditional dance group. The practices culminated in a Yosakoi dance festival in Osaka, which later turned into one of my favorite memories in Japan because we performed three times, and I was the only non-Japanese person among a group of 40 Japanese students. Attempting to speak Japanese, given my second year language abilities, was challenging, but the awkwardness forced me to study the language even more. I also found a few Japanese allies who were crucial to learning the choreography and reading Japanese festival instructions. For Yosakoi practice, I went to the Kamogawa River twice a week and rehearsed for three hours. Beyond the dance steps themselves, I learned about the nuances of Japanese circle rules. For instance, Japanese students were extremely punctual, schedules were outlined down to the last second on Excel sheets, and many people wanted to speak with foreigners but worried that they lacked language skills. For future KCJS students, I’d recommend trying your best to find Doshisha university circles. I googled most organizations and expanded my search to Kyoto University affiliates, randomly emailing any address that I could find. I emailed seven different groups, nearly forgot which ones I emailed, and heard back three weeks later about the Yosakoi group. Though the effort was challenging at the start, interacting exclusively with Japanese people without international students to help you can make you grow as a person.

I also attended private lessons at Fly Dance Studio in Shijo. Given my lack of dancing experience, I worried that I’d be an awkward duck flailing my arms, but the teachers were super nice, and most of the students there didn’t consistently come to any one practice. Instead, students varied from week to week, and the studio’s EASY set one-month package ensured that I could show up to any class, any time of the week. Most of the classes hovered around dinner time, so I’d go once or twice a week and attend either their beginner or ultra-beginner hip hop and K-pop dance classes. For students worried about feeling awkward the first time, I’d drag a friend along and exercise together, then attend the next few sessions alone. A first once told me a mantra that I try to repeat: If you can talk, you can sing, and if you can walk, you can dance. Since I’m leaving the country after one semester, I didn’t feel as bad if I made dance choreography mistakes, and also knew that many of the teachers appreciated having more students because it created more energy. Plus, the chance to dance off all the gyoza I ate in the city was necessary, given that I don’t hit the gym.

Temporarily I attended one practice for ASH, a k-pop dance group, but the members weren’t super welcoming, so I spent my last few weeks working with Kyoto Student Impact, a Christian group in the city that’s unaffiliated with Doshisha University. I don’t think the ASH dance group members meant to be rude, but my lack of Japanese fluency proved hard to communicate with local students, and they rarely held practices, so the chance to meet friends was extra hard. Instead, through Kyoto Student Impact, which I found through the Mustard Seed Church that I attended, I met students once or twice a week and engaged in social activities. I went bowling in Japan, had a worshipping session, and as of this writing, will soon attend an international Thanksgiving feast in a country that hardly celebrates this November holiday. The experience with student impact surprised me for a variety of reasons, two of them being that Christianity is hardly practiced in this Shinto/Buddhist-dominated country and I hadn’t expected to attend church. Fortunately, it felt refreshing to practice my religion in a foreign country, and I wanted to speak English a few times, even though the goal of studying abroad was to learn Japanese. Having even a few international friends or Japanese speakers who spoke fluent English ensured that I could compare cross-cultural conversations and engage in deeper conversations. Also, church proved to be a consistent place where I could find friends and have deeper connections over a shared religion, so I resumed my religious practices.

Some tips for future KCJS students, since I found my project activities largely through reading past blog posts:

  1. Don’t email or Instagram DM one or two groups; hit more. I started by contacting seven groups, and two of them eventually got back to me three weeks later. You want to cast your net wide, and don’t worry if you don’t hear back since it’s nothing personal. Also, most groups have eligibility requirements. For instance, my Yosakoi traditional dance group didn’t allow foreign students because they wanted to recruit Japanese freshmen and sophomores for a full year. When I reached out to them, they only wanted international students for one specific festival, and though the experience was short, I still learned a ton of new Kansai dialect slang.
  2. Don’t chicken out of going to a project. As cliche as it sounds, feeling uncomfortable means you’re growing. There were multiple times when I felt awkward in all-Japanese spaces, and one time, I arrived at a practice location and wanted to turn around, for fear of awkwardness. Your first few times at a project won’t be the easiest, but over time, the more conversations you have, the better your experience will be. When you don’t know what to say to Japanese students, ask questions and pull the “gaijin card,” aka ask about anything on your mind because you’re a foreigner and confusion feels justified.
  3. It’s okay to change your projects, even multiple times. I hopped around different projects and felt that each one of them taught me something different. For instance, the Yosakoi dance organization taught me about language immersion and the international Christian group reminded me about the comfort of speaking in my native tongue. Given the number of people that you can meet in Kyoto, don’t worry you won’t make friends. Sometimes, even in Japanese spaces, you’ll meet many internationals. At my Christian group, most people I met hailed from foreign countries like Indonesia and China, and I’ve had fun exchanging cross-cultural talks with them.

Alyssa Willeford: Shamisen Lessons at Greenwich House

This semester, I took shamisen lessons with Iwasaki-sensei at Greenwich House, a small music studio located near the intersection of Shijo-dori and Kawaramachi-dori. Every Tuesday, after eating lunch at one of the many nearby restaurants, I would show up, sheet music in hand, to practice with the others at the studio. Typically, the lesson would start at about 1:30, when Ishida-san (a very kind woman and one of Iwasaki-sensei’s friends) and I would practice shamisen technique and drill the songs I had been working on. Because I only started shamisen lessons at the beginning of the semester, I was far behind where the others were, so I needed that extra time. Then, at around 2, other students – mostly middle-aged people, though a few younger and older people too – would show up and we would begin rehearsing our songs. Inevitably, we would break at some point for gobocha, or burdock tea, and a wagashi snack, my favorite of which was definitely ichigo daifuku. I would usually leave around 3 or 3:30, but I would have been free to stay longer too. It all felt a lot like visiting a hippie music studio back home in Seattle, except, of course, for the music we were playing. Most of the other people were practicing the koto, so I was the only one on shamisen and definitely felt some pressure at times to deliver! Iwasaki-sensei was very kind and lent me one of their shamisen so that I could practice at home, which definitely helped me improve much faster. Sometimes I would practice for as much as 45 minutes a night because I found it so calming. The semester was capped off with a performance at Shimogamo Elementary School – a group of us went to serve as essentially a teaching aid for a lesson about traditional music. That was a ton of fun, and it really felt like a spectacular way to finish out my experience!

Overall, I cannot recommend this CIP enough. In terms of things I would change, Iwasaki-sensei could be a little bit spontaneous at times, and I didn’t always feel like I knew what was going on. We played three pieces at the elementary school, and I had only gotten a copy of one of them two days before, so that was definitely a little stressful. Other than that, though, I had a great time! Iwasaki-sensei was very generous with gifts, sweets, and her time – I feel like I got far more out of the lessons than the small fee should really have covered. I played trombone from fourth grade until I graduated high school, and I enjoyed the shamisen because it’s surprisingly similar in a lot of ways. But the main thing that drew me to the lessons was just the chance to reconnect with music and experience again the joy of making music with others.

Also, and this was incredible, but after my first lesson, I got to meet a maiko, or trainee geisha. Because it was the first day and I had no idea what was going on, I was definitely super stressed, but that was still one of the coolest experiences I’ve had in Japan.

I would give my CIP five stars. I would recommend it to anyone who loves playing music – but if you only want a 1-hour-a-week commitment and you don’t like snacks, you should probably look elsewhere.