Andrea Radziminski: Tea Ceremony Lessons

 

Second Tea Ceremony Room

Over the fall of 2018 my CIP was attending tea ceremony lessons. At first, I experienced how tightly knit the tea ceremony community is, because it took a couple of lessons before the teacher and other students stopped keeping me at distance. They treated me as an outsider not to be mean nor discourage me, but because we had not yet developed a feeling of closeness and had no shared experiences. As I observed, the students closest to the tea teacher still used desu/masu and even keigo regularly when talking to or about her, but what they talked about and the relaxed atmosphere in which they communicated reflected their closeness. For instance, the teacher would casually, in plain form or desu/masu, discuss with more experienced students the price of new tatami, private tea gatherings she attended, or what previous students.  Their discussions are always quite happy, warm, and friendly.

By comparison, the teacher only talked to the less experienced students, who had spent less time learning tea there, about the tea ceremony, and their discussions always happened in a more formal atmosphere. Over the course of the semester, all students, including myself, continued to develop closer ties to the teacher. And so, I, and others, slowly developed close enough ties to be considered more of an inside member of their close-knit group, and the formal and distant treatment at the beginning slowly melted away quite a bit. So, I now look forward to continuing developing closer ties and slowly becoming more a part of their inner world of tea. So, I encourage other students who may at first experience a colder or more distant reception to not be discouraged. The strictness, formality, and distance in small groups like the tea ceremony are only signs of how close-knit the group is, with bonds going years or generations back. If you are sincere in your efforts to try your best, then once they get to know you, they will begin to warm up to you.

With the above in mind, I learned, practiced, and observed a great deal of keigo as well as the many intricate manners for interacting in Japan, which became a great help in many other interactions beyond my lessons. When switching between receiving instruction and actually participating in the tea ceremony, I was able to gain more experience in knowing what keigo was used in place of other words in various situations. Likewise, I learned that there are many ways of showing gratitude to your sensei, or superior, beyond saying thank you and bowing. For instance, very long letters are written yearly by students to express their gratitude, and these letters must use certain kinds of paper, language, and multiple forms of saying thank you. Similarly, gifts of sweets or gratuity money are not required but seen as signs of gratefulness towards the teacher, and these signs of gratitude must be presented in a certain way as a gesture of respect. For instance, monthly lesson fee payments must be made of crisp bills and be placed in a crisp, new envelope. This envelope must be placed on a fan and presented in front of the teacher using a set phrase and bowing, usually while sitting seiza style. Later I learned many of these rules and gestures can be helpful in other kinds of everyday situations with people with which you are not close, business situations, and school situations. So, they were all very helpful to learn.

Benji Hix: Private Koto Lessons (Part 2)

This semester, I continued my koto lessons from last semester. It all started with my first ever performance with all the rest of my teacher’s students, numbering around 50 people total. The recital was 2 parts: first, various songs performed by different groups of students, and second, 3 songs that featured her. It was a loooooong night – the rehearsal was at least 6 hours, and the performance itself was around 3 total. But, it was a fun experience, especially since I can tell people that I performed “Let it Go” in an ensemble of traditional Japanese instruments. I also got to meet lots of interesting people, including a geiko, my teacher’s very old mother, and even a nice fellow who took me on a date and bought me socks! After that performance, I took a short break from rehearsing, and went back after a few weeks to discover my technique had deteriorated greatly. The solution to this was to, in theory, practice 2-3 times a week, but due to my health and business I averaged once a week… oops! However, I quickly relearned what I had forgotten and began practicing new music to perform at the closing ceremony for KCJS.

After one semester of practicing, I considered switching my CIP – having performed, it was the perfect time to make my leave. However, my teacher was so sweet that I couldn’t resist when she asked if I was willing to keep practicing with her. Furthermore, she invited me to lots of random outings – such as visiting cherry blossoms and seeing random performances around the city. We actually texted decently often, which at one point resulted in an embarrassing but funny texting interaction on March 2nd (3月2日, the Japanese is important here) that reminded me not to misread 4月 as 4日:

Her: “Benji, I know a good spot to see the blossoms around April (4月), would you like to go see?”

Me: “Sure, class ends at 11:30 so I’m free after that!” [I was thinking she said 4日]

Her: “…Right… Don’t your classes end around the 20th of April…?”

[LATER, ON 4日]

Me: “I believe so!”

Me: “Today it’s raining… what will you do?”

Me: “Oh, whoops… I misunderstood”

Me: “Nevermind”

Her: “It is raining today, but what will we do…?”

My friends and I all had a good laugh about my incompetence at reading kanji, though I never asked her what she made of that interaction.

Overall, I enjoyed my CIP this semester just as much as last semester. After working with my teacher for so long, we definitely reached a level of comfortability such that I never felt nervous going to practice like I did last semester. Furthermore, my skill has improved to a level that I can actually feel proud of – enough that I plan to look for koto teachers once I go back to America! For anyone considering doing instrument lessons at all, I urge them to do the full year if possible. It really is worth the investment to practice with someone for a full year!

Sam Lefar: Playing go at the Kyoto Go Salon

For my CIP, I played go. Go is a game that is chesslike in strategy, simpler in rules, and much more complex in planning. It is played between two players labeled as black and white, on a 19 by 19 board. The board begins empty and slowly fills up as players take turns placing small, circular stones on the empty intersections in a bid to surround as much territory (empty intersections) as possible. Because of the sheer number of ways to play and moves that can be made at any given point, the strategy and long-term planning far exceeds chess in potential strategy, while simultaneously staying much more simple in ruleset.

The place I played go was a place called the Kyoto Go Salon, a small little place on a side street off of Shijo (a main street running through downtown Kyoto). At first I started playing on a small 9×9 board against other beginners, and as I got better I managed to get used to first the 13×13 boards and then eventually the full size 19×19 boards. The salon is closed on Fridays, but is open from 1PM-6PM every other day of the week, Saturday through Thursday. I would go every Wednesday as soon as I could, as well as the occasional Sunday or Monday afternoon, and play a few games. A full-length game on a full-size board will take about an hour to complete, so with perfect efficiency, you might be able to play five games in an afternoon, although if you’re not used to it, your brain might be fried by the time you play three.

The main difference between this salon and other go salons in Kyoto, is that it prides itself on how accessible it is for beginners, and I could feel it. At the start, I was a complete beginner, who only knew the general rules of the game, but my growth has been explosive due to the manner in which sensei teaches. Sensei is extremely animated and excited about go, and that emotion bled over to me: whenever he would explain something, like why one move is generally preferred over another, or when replaying a moment of a game where he saw a mistake, he’d have the biggest grin on his face, and he was potentially the single most expressive person I’ve met in Japan. At first, the most important thing with Sensei’s lessons was asking questions about words’ definitions. I couldn’t understand the vocabulary of the Kansai dialect very well, let alone the faster-than-Tokyo-dialect speed and the increased use of tone and pitch. For a good two weeks, I didn’t have any idea what Sensei was saying, but I slowly managed to get the hang of it. Even now, comprehension isn’t perfect and I ask questions about meaning, but I can follow a conversation now.

Sensei is also a big fan of getting stronger through experience; he is more likely to let you play out a game by making a mistake and then seeing where you went wrong than he is to give advice on a move that you should make in the future, although if you continuously make the same mistake, he will give you advice. A lot of his instruction is like that; the only general teaching he does is at the start of the afternoon, right at 1:00, by doing just a few tsumego (practice problems) on a large magnetic front-facing board before allowing everyone to play against others of the same skill level.

Something that surprised me a bit was that at the end of the games, when it came time to count territory, it wasn’t just a matter of counting, but the MANNER in which you count. You have to arrange it in a specific way, and even if it’s harder for you to count it like that, if it’s not the “correct” way, then you’re doing it wrong. It was frustrating, but it reminded me of the oft-said idea regarding Japan that it’s not a matter of “best” way of counting, but rather “what’s been decided.”

The other players were, with a single exception, all over 50 years old, with the grand majority being at least in their mid-60s. The patrons of the salon were very friendly, and I enjoyed talking to them—there was a some general talk of the weather, recent travels, current events, and family, but most of it was related to go itself, and the games that we just played or were about to play. The way that the patrons talked with me was similar to each other: in rapid Kansai dialect. With no shortage of politeness, but also not as formal as Tokyo Dialect’s standard desu-masu form. At one point, on Valentine’s Day, one of my fellow kishi 棋士 (go and/or shogi players) brought in chocolates for everyone and introduced me to the idea of girichoko, or “obligation chocolate,” which in turn led me to learn more about how Valentine’s Day (and White Day) are handled in Japan—it’s very different than the U.S.!

The only exception was with the one young player, a young man named Inata-san. And Inata-san was more of a stone than the black and white stones we put on the goban. He didn’t react to Sensei’s positive and goofy energy in the slightest, and even when I tried to make conversation, he gave me one-word answers with no emotion. I had heard of the famous “Japanese reservedness/shyness” before, but this was my first time experiencing it firsthand. Maybe I only saw it once because Inata-san was a young adult and not an older fellow? It definitely seemed like there was a correlation between higher age and openness to conversation, so maybe this was the logical extreme, with “much younger” being “much more reserved”?

The salon was just a great experience for me, and I loved it immensely. I would recommend this place to anyone who doesn’t have much experience (or even any experience at all) but still has any interest at all in not just go, but in chesslike games as a whole.

http://www.eonet.ne.jp/~kyotoigosa/

Tracy Jiao: Pottery and Yoga

When deciding to attend the KCJS program, I understand a commitment that goes beyond taking regular Japanese courses, and CIP (community involvement program) is just one of these opportunities to reach out and truly become an active member in the city of Kyoto. Because of some previous experience in pottery and yoga, I chose to proceed to take classes in these areas. Surprisingly, both pottery and yoga take a very distinctive style in Japan; like many other things, they have turned Nihonka, adapting to the aesthetic tastes and physical needs of the locals.

Unlike western countries that prefer doing pottery on electric wheels, the pottery studio I went to in Kyoto, 藤平陶芸, makes most of their works on hand-powered wheels or simply boards. At first, I was a little befuddled by this choice, since the electronic machine seems much more efficient in making a perfect, slick piece. This question kept coming back to me, especially during times on the hand-powered wheel that last two hours every two weeks. Used to the fast electronic tourneys, I felt impatient toward the slow pace and vibe in the Fujihira studio. However, when strolling around the work display area in the studio one day, I suddenly began to understand the masters’ choice of slow development. The delicacy and elegance of these finished works directly relate to the time each master spent making them. If a pottery maker did not look close and long enough at the piece, he would neglect the details which set it apart from other mass-produced vessels. In this era of mass production, customers keep coming back to Fujihira studio to purchase a cup three times more expensive than the ones sold in IKEA. The secret behind Japanese Art’s gracefulness and their studios’ durability is rooted in the tradition. Instead of conforming to new trends, small workshops in Kyoto kept their traditional way of practice as if time has not passed.

In addition to pottery, I found a deeper understanding of the meaning of yoga practices as well. Through the zen breathing and meditation combination, I discovered a peace in my body that power yoga classes would never bring out. By communicating with teachers and students of these two studios, I gradually recognize the spirit of Kyoto that goes beyond its magnificent temples and shrines.

Sincerity yoga(シンセリティヨガ): https://coubic.com/sincerityyoga/274832

藤平陶芸

Josie Tou: Calligraphy

The CIP that I chose was calligraphy with Asakusa-sensei. I found this class through a fellow study abroad student’s host mom, who took me to the location on the first day of class. Because we are only in Japan for such a short period, instead of starting with the basics, the teacher let us write what we wanted. In the class, we learned the proper holding technique for the brush as well as the importance of a kanji’s writing stroke order. Each class, we choose a character that we would like to write, practice it a multitude of times, and then write it on a good sheet of paper to take home.

I think I was able to learn quite a lot about the relationship between sensei and gakusei, especially since the class size was so small. Through the semester, omiyage was of course not required, but I feel it really did help shorten the distance in formality. I was also able to practice keigo for the beginning of the semester and went into simple desu/masu form near the end.

Overall, I really enjoyed doing this CIP throughout the semester because it was a good change of pace from classes. Additionally, we were able to arrange a class time that was dedicated to the KCJS students, so even if you mess up with your Japanese, there is no rush for the teacher’s time. I think that this was the best fit for someone like me who was searching for a more arts and crafts/hands on activity.

Lisa Qi: Continuing Lessons at Apollo Art Academy

Like first semester I continued attending art lessons at Apollo Art Academy for my CIP this semester. Because I go to lessons on Mondays instead of Thursdays, as I did before, I had to reintroduce myself to new classmates, but they were all friendly and I did not have much trouble interacting with them. Midway through each lesson there is a break time when students can drink tea, eat snacks, and chat with eachother. Most of the students were older Japanese people with a few younger university age students, however, in my new session there were several students from Russia and one from China. It was fun chatting with others and talking about what each of us were drawing. The older Japanese people usually explained the kinds of snacks we were eating during the break time as they were usually the ones who brought the snacks. I did not have much chance to talk with the younger Japanese students as they usually did not interact with others besides the teacher.

Besides the other students the person I interacted the most with was my teacher, Tanaka-sensei and the teaching assistant Takahashi-san. Tanaka-sensei would go around the room critiquing various people’s works throughout the lesson. Everyone usually works with different materials and draws different subjects, and this semester I switched from drawing mostly vegetables with pencil to drawing with hard pastels. As a result, I liked the pieces I worked on more this semester as I prefer working with color. Overall, I had a very warm experience with Apollo Art Academy’s staff and students; the school is not very large so there are plenty of opportunities to talk with others.

Sara Hirade: Calligraphy Lessons

Every Monday, two other KCJS students and I take calligraphy classes near Shimogamo-jinja, which is only a ten-minute bike ride away from Doshisha.

At first, I had some difficulty choosing a CIP. I knew I wanted to participate in something traditionally Japanese and artistic where I could bring home some of my work, but I was not sure on what to do. After talking with my host mother about my concerns, she suggested that I try calligraphy classes. Her friend is the teacher, and KCJS students have enjoyed her classes in the past. My host mom then introduced me and the other KCJS students who wanted to participate to sensei. We arrived at her house, armed with omiyage and got started right away. Sensei provids us with all the materials necessary to participate, as well as tea and snacks at the end of the lesson. Each week we practice one or two kanji, while sensei advises us and corrects our work. Once we are familiar with the kanji we have been practicing, we write a final version on beautiful, high-end paper, which sensei is kind enough to let us use.

I was a little nervous when I began the calligraphy classes. My handwriting is not very neat and I have very little experience with painting. I had done some calligraphy in the past, but would not consider myself to be any good at it. However, these concerns quickly evaporated as soon as I met sensei and began the lessons. She taught us all the terms for the materials, explained the proper technique for holding the brushes, and demonstrated the best posture and how our bodies should feel when we do calligraphy. However, I learned more than just what calligraphy is or how I can make my kanji look better. Sensei gave me another perspective on the importance of paying attention to details in Japanese society. For example, when writing sideways lines in a kanji, the line should rise slightly up as it goes from the left-hand side of the page to the right. This allows for space to open up within the character itself and provides a better balance on the page. Once I started writing my kanji with this in mind, they started to look cleaner and nicer. On my own, I never would have paid attention to such a small detail. I soon began to notice a similar focus on detail in other parts of Japanese culture, that I had overlooked before these calligraphy classes. For instance, in many crowded areas, there are signs that clearly mark which side of the street visitors should walk on so that there is no confusion. A detail that the architects and designers could have easily overlooked, but didn’t, allows for a natural and easy flow that you do not always see in the busy areas of other countries.

I highly recommend sensei’s calligraphy classes to anyone who is interested in traditional Japanese arts. The only regret I have is that we only got to meet for 10 weeks. Sensei is incredibly knowledgeable in different calligraphy styles as well as other traditional Japanese arts (she is a ceramicist and made the plates and cups that she serves our post-lesson tea in) and is always so excited to share this knowledge with study abroad students. She also always checks in with us to make sure that we are understanding everything that she says and does her best to translate Kansai-ben into hyoujun-go when we have questions about it. Her prices for KCJS are very generous, unlike some traditional art classes in Kyoto. She also has great recommendations for where to go see sakura trees around Kyoto!

John Cho: Shamisen

           In my opinion, learning the shamisen itself was not the most important part of my CIP. Of course, learning how to play an instrument (if you enjoy music) from someone who is respected among the music community is a great opportunity; but being able to be in a constant, small group of friendly people and having the opportunity to participate in a concert wearing the traditional concert clothes really fulfilled the “authentic Japanese experience” that I was hoping to get from this study abroad.

            To those who are looking to learn the language better, and to constantly have the opportunity to talk with native speakers – who often use very strong Kansai-ben; the shamisen lesson is, perhaps, the best place to do so. Because most of the fellow students are around 60 ~ 70 years old, they consider us (young study abroad students) to be a “kouhai” and are more willing to talk to you, makes jokes with you, and really get to know you better. Personally, I think my Japanese skills, especially conversational skills, have improved significantly because I was always in an environment to constantly talk with someone who uses more conversational/casual speech to you – unlike the classroom environments.

Also, being in the shamisen class allowed me to participate in a traditional Japanese music concert, which is a great “authentic Japanese experience”. To me, the fact that I, an American study abroad student, can play alongside Japanese people while wearing their traditional clothes, and go to a big celebration party afterwards gave me the feeling that I was really accepted in the community.

            For those who love music, or who would like to start learning the instrument, I would definitely recommend learning the shamisen under Iwasaki sensei.

            For a quick explanation about what the “general experience” of learning how to play the shamisen is, please look at my first post. (https://www.kcjs.jp/blog/2017/11/25/john-cho-shamisen)

Mary Tebbetts Nichols: Calligraphy

I took calligraphy lessons alongside Sara and Josie with a local calligraphy instructor for my community involvement project. The calligraphy lessons were around an hour in length. Classes would usually involve practicing a single word until we had a decent feel for the writing process. Though I loved learning how to write with energy and elegance, I was especially fond of the conversations we had with the instructor.

I feel that I have a better understanding of how to ask for help and advice in Japanese. This project has forced me out of my comfort zone and encouraged me to ask for clarification when I felt uncertain about an instruction or to share my own thoughts and opinions when a certain approach felt like it was working. In addition to gaining more confidence in my communication strategies, my CIP helped me get a better understanding of the cultural importance of thoughtfulness in Japan. The level of intent that went into the instructor’s every brush stroke or gesture, like offering everyone cough drops when she herself was in the middle of a coughing fit, made me reconsider how I approached my daily life and activities. I found interactions with strangers and public etiquette easier to understand and navigate when trying to follow her example.

I have learned how to navigate social situations in Japanese with greater confidence than I had at the beginning of the program through the calligraphy class. My advice for those looking to take her classes or try calligraphy is to be mindful. Even something as small as taking a moment to think things through, whether it was my next brush stroke or response in a conversation, helped me make use of the language and calligraphy tips I learned.

Tyler Logan: Continuing to Make Kimono in Kyoto

This semester I was able to continue my kimono making lessons from last semester and learn more about traditional Japanese garment construction techniques. After trekking to my Sensei’s house every Friday afternoon this semester, I have finished sewing one whole yukata by hand and my Sensei and I have began working on a haori as well. Pursuing these lessons has allowed me to work on my Japanese conversation skills outside of the classroom and given new directions and techniques for my own artistic practice in the future.

Since I first began studying under my Sensei last semester, I have gradually gotten better at sewing with my hands. I’m still not as fast as the experienced hands of my Sensei, but I can tell that now I can stitch straight much more easily and even do harded stitches like hidden seams much more easily. I also now have a much better idea of how kimono are constructed, and the technical tricks and manipulations of the fabric that are used to achieve the distinct drapery and shapes of kimono. This work has given me a valuable different perspective on how to put clothes together, and I’m excited to apply this knowledge to my own projects and experiments in the future.

Meeting with my Sensei every week has also allowed me to work on my Japanese conversation. Though when I first met him we had a hard time communicating, as I’ve continued to study and improve my own Japanese I’ve been able to understand my Sensei’s accent better and become more conversational. Our chats are a bit light, as we are usually both working on our own sewing, but I feel proud that over the past seven months I’ve gradually become able to communicate effectively. I’m glad I had the opportunity to take these lessons.