Alan Aquino: KyoDai Light Music Circle コンペイトウ

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I wanted to join a light music circle not only to improve at guitar and learn to sing in Japanese, but in small part due to the influence of Kyoto Animation’s K-On. Along with a healthy dose of other slice-of-life anime, joining seemed like the perfect way to inject myself into Japanese university life. At Doshisha, we KCJS kids really stick together. Fusokan and the cafeteria are our own little islands, and it’s difficult to break out of this bubble to interact with Japanese students. I was introduced to the circle thanks to the help of a Kyoto University student that I met during orientation, and after a few emails and twiddling my thumbs for the circle to get back from summer vacation, I dropped myself into the fast-speaking, slang-slinging world of Japanese college students.

コンペイトウ meets once a week every Wednesday in Yoshida Building 4 at 7:30pm, though they’re not meetings in the traditional sense. Rather, they’re live shows, showcasing two cover bands made up of members of the circle. Half of the fun are their ridiculous names like Bump of Chicken, My Room is Dirty, and Nicke L. Back (a metal band). The genres range from anime songs to thrash to punk rock. An impromptu stage area is created by unbolting desks and chairs at the front of the room, and the group shares a handful of amplifiers, monitors, and a well-worn orange Yamaha drum kit. Once the lights dim, the opening band begins, tearing through a full setlist of covers with a gusto and talent that’s hard to match. After a quick break to change equipment, the headliners come on, skillfully shredding their way through another set, and then one more as an encore. The first time I went, I thought that the final act played so well that the crowd couldn’t help but ask for one more song, but after subsequent visits, I realized that the circle always asks for an encore no matter how the band did.

That first night, I went with one of our CIP mantras in mind: sometimes it’s good to be just an observer, and other times it’s best for you to jump straight in. I kept weighing those options as the evening went on, finally getting my chance during equipment cleanup at the end of the concert. Even the club members who are a part of the circle just to listen help pitch in to move equipment and put the classroom back together. It was at this time that I jumped in without being asked, and before long, inquisitive club members noticed me and began striking up conversation. I’ve met new people every week, but one thing that happened every time, without fail, was how cool people thought it was that I was from Las Vegas. They seemed quick to accept me too, even with my meager A-Class-level Japanese. At times, they could pick up that my fluency was still quite slow and adapt, while others they would speak at fluent speeds and I strained to keep up, afraid of asking them to slow down. I think that knowing a handful of Japanese rock bands helped me a lot, as everyone seemed surprised that I knew some of their favorite groups.

Dropping myself into those situations has certainly helped my Japanese and my perception of Japanese culture, though. Where I before dreaded (and to be honest, still dread a little bit) having to use and decrypt keigo on the fly, it was only after my early email exchanges that I began to appreciate how respected you feel when your respondent replies back in keigo. Listening to a variety of native speakers has helped me to be able to usually be able to pick out the main points of what they say, even if I don’t completely understand. The “every student pitches in to clean up” thing, which is regarded in foreign countries as the epitome of Japanese schooling and something that every nation should aspire to, is perceived as completely normal and not worthy of any special attention here in Japan. My host mother had a good laugh when I explained America’s strange fascination with that.

My time in コンペイトウ hasn’t been without its faults. Joining a band hinges on being a part of their mailing list, which even after giving email to supposedly the correct person, it wasn’t until three weeks later that someone realized that I hadn’t actually been added. Other than that, the circle doesn’t facilitate practices; it seems like once you get into a group, you do everything on your own before signing up to perform. At this point in the semester when the error got caught, with finals, papers, and winter break looming, it doesn’t seem like I’ll actually get to participate until next semester. Even then, with the semester ending in March, I’m not sure how much time I’ll actually get to have being an active member of the circle. For paying their membership fee and bringing my guitar from America with high hopes, several months of music appreciation isn’t exactly what I signed up for. I also feel like I would be getting more out of it, or at least better able to voice my concerns, if my Japanese were a lot better than it currently is.

I’m trying to keep my chin up. Getting put on the spot in conversation, without the aid of a conversation script or a dictionary, isn’t something that the formal teaching of a Japanese class can really prepare you for. You can only get better at with a lot of practice. At the start of the semester I was pretty concerned with speaking perfectly and figuring out the right words to use, but now I’ve loosened up and just speak as best I can, talking around what I’ve forgotten or what I don’t know, experimenting with new words and expressions that I’ve picked up from friends and from class.

Studying abroad here in Japan for a year makes me feel as if I’m living a double life. Truly, I’m shelving my life back in America for a few months, and injecting myself into something new and unfamiliar. Everything has a parallel — English for Japanese, my real family for my host family, Doshisha for Penn. But コンペイトウ doesn’t really have an American equivalent for me. I don’t have a group in America where I can let unwind for a few hours, talk excitedly about music, get insight into a foreign culture, and listen to two bands kill it once a week. I’m hoping that in time, hopefully soon, I’ll get to be up on stage in one of those too.

Yuqi Yin: Chorus Circle in Kyoto Univerisity

My CIP is participating the chorus in Kyoto University. They have regular practice three times a week, including one for male part only, one for female part only, and one for the whole chorus. They are preparing for the on-stage performance at the end of the semester, on December 23rd. The practice consists of two part: the muscle training and the voice tanning. The muscle training was designed to strengthen the muscle around waist and stomach in order to produce a better quality of voice.

I learned how to read stave through the practice. I used to be able to read it because I learned piano for several years when I was little. However, I’ve totally forgot anything piano-related before I came to Japan. I think it is a great opportunity for me to picking it up again. Also, What I noticed about Japanese student, or the Kyoto University student, was that they were all very serious about the practice. Although the group leaders always said that if one didn’t feel well, she or he can rest at home, there was very few people did not participate in the practice. Even when they had cold, they wore masks to the practice. I think it might be a general characteristic of Japanese, or, at least, Kyoto University students.

There are less communication during the practice than I thought. In my mind, college circles such as clubs in American colleges are the place where one gets to know new people and socialize, but the chorus hardly offer any chance. Also, there are some after-practice activity that members are merely going so often because they are so busy in studying. Although the communication is not enough during the practice, there are some other events that are opened to chorus members. They have picnic events every month and some special event depending on the time of the year. I went to one of the special event, Tsukimi (appreciating the moon), and had a chance to really talk to some members. However, most of them were too shy to start a conversation with.

It is also very interesting that they have a nick name system, which I think really changed the hierarchy system in Japanese college circles. It is usual that in circle kouhai has to be respectful to senpai because kouhai tends to have less experience. In the chorus, I think it is because of the nick name system that members are not as distant as an normal circle with a lot of members. It is also common in the chorus that a senpai make a nick name for a kouhai, and it seemed that there is one girl that is really good at creating nick name for everyone.

I appreciate the chance of having CIP within Japanese local community or university circles, and I do think that the CIP helped me understand Japanese college circles, at least the Kyoto University chorus. If I were to give any advice, I think that finding an activity that you like is very important as sensei said, but the time of the CIP is also very important. To consider both whether you like the activity you chose or not and if the time of the activity fits you schedule is extremely important.

Alison Palmer: Kyodai Jazz Music Circle

My CIP was participating in a Kyoto University jazz music circle called Off-Beat. It was entirely student run, and every Thursday for three hours, they held a Jazz music session: this was basically everyone, using the same collection of jazz songs, rotating who would play and solo in the next song, with at least one piano, drum, and base player, and one soloist. Players were free to come and leave depending on their schedules, so all in all, each song and each session had different feels depending on the people who were there. Though everyone there was individually talented, the quality of songs varied due to their improvisational nature, but overall the group sounded good. I felt comfortable showing up because I have played flute for 7 years, I have been singing for longer, and I am ok at improvisation even though I haven’t taken music theory. I also love jazz music. If I was both unfamiliar with playing jazz music and unsure of my skill with an instrument, I would have been more careful making this my CIP. However, because of the optional nature of each session, the members there were very receptive to me sitting in for one to see how it worked before I tried to play anything.

In this CIP, when I didn’t play, I got to sit back and observe people interacting without feeling obligated to participate in a conversation, so I saw a lot of different levels of casual interaction outside of the typical sphere of “foreignness” that I bring in when I speak. Because this was a music circle, the people in it had different interests and personalities than the typical Japanese student interested in international exchange: which described most of the Japanese students I had met so far. We interacted on a more practical level where we all worked together, as opposed to me being separate as a foreigner, so I felt more accepted and part of the group here, rather than a special addition to be inspected. Not only that, but coming into KCJS unsure of my Japanese skills, being able to connect with people without language, and with music instead was a really amazing experience. There are still a few people I played with where their sole impression of me is playing my flute, and I think the musical element acted as a great equalizer between many different people, including me as the token foreigner of the group. Feeling accepted was a huge part of me having the confidence to not only start to casually talk to my friends, but also ask questions about Japan, its culture, and its language.

Christopher Huber: Tanka Circle

What is tanka? The question is simply answered: a poem written in 5-7-5-7-7 syllabic pattern. I felt content with my answer and decided to join the Kyoto University tanka club to try my hand at the art of their composition and reading. However, as I regularly participated in the club’s meetings, I began to lose faith in this answer of mine. In these meetings, called utakai, participating members submit poems in advance, which are then discussed, analysed and judged by the group. Over the course of these discussions, it became clear that the group and I were approaching the poems in quite different ways; it seemed that our concept of the nature of tanka was estranged. It appeared to me as though the members, even if they complemented the form of my poems or the choice of imagery, struggling to engage with them in the same way. I felt that I would never be able to truly join the group until I had solved the mystery.

At first, I thought the problem lay in communication. Although I could usually understand the clear, slow voice of my Japanese teacher, this ability did not translate into a comprehension of a heated literary discussion about poems I could not prepare in advance. There were certainly many times when I felt completely lost in the discussion. I had failed to follow the line of interpretation, even if I could follow the basic meaning of the sentences.

Aside from the discussion itself, the poems provided another obstacle. Though armed with a dictionary, there was always at least one poem I failed to grasp. Since every member is called upon to make comment, these moments were often quite trying; I would tend to talk around the poem, focusing on specific images without providing any attempt to string together the separate ideas.

However, I gradually felt I was overcoming these problems. My key strategy was to focus on interpreting the poems in advance even if it meant I had to largely ignore the first poem; that time was usually lost anyway in readjusting myself to the style of discussion. Consequently, when it came to the poems I had analysed, I was in a much better position; I was aware of a large amount of possible interpretation, which made following the comments easier and I had already decided on a few points to share, which dulled the pressure and allowed me to join more actively in the discussion.

The strategy proved key to becoming a member of the group. I won the respect of the other members not through my poems, but my interpretations. They responded to the evident consideration I was putting into my interpretation, which communicated my respect for them as poets and their craft. However, even though I was accepted into the club, the distance members felt to my poems did not disappear. We seemed to conceive of tanka in fundamentally different ways.

My first thought had been that tanka was no more than any other form of poetry, no more than one of many possible modes of expression. However, I was forced to reconsider this position after my exposure to the attitude of the club members. Questions on poetry or literature in general tended to meet with surprized and confused expressions; one would think I had asked a strange, even absurd question. When a reply finally emerged, it usually stressed the uniqueness of tanka, before admitting very little interest in other poetic forms. The pursuit was not poetry, but tanka; they read tanka and wrote tanka.

After a number of weeks, I believed I was beginning to understand their perspective. Tanka are, after all, in some ways a truly unique form of Japanese poetry; they have an age long tradition in Japan and stood as the unrivalled form of verse for over half a century. The tanka cannon overflows with great poems and poets; perhaps, their own tradition so rich and deep, tanka poets did not feel the need to look outside of tanka.

However, I was forced to abandon this supposition after a revealing exchange with one of my senpai, one of the leading members of the club, who regularly competes and wins tanka contests. As we walked together back to the station, he explained to me the difference between waka and tanka. Waka literally means Japanese poetry, but, due to the historic predominance of tanka, for a long time, it was used synonymously with the term tanka. My senpai employed the term to distinguish between old and new tanka. The scope of waka, the old tanka, was heavily confined by set conventions of diction and topic. In contrast, contemporary tanka is much freer, without any formal requirements save the 5-7-5-7-7 syllabic structure. After he had clarified the distinction, he told me I wrote in a very waka­-like style and would benefit from studying more contemporary tanka collections.

My senpai had unknowingly answered the question that had been troubling me. Indeed, I had always drawn my inspiration from the classical waka poets, aspiring to their lofty diction and keen seasonal awareness. Yet, no other member of the group was similarly motivated; I alone, it seemed, had believed in the continuity of the tradition; to the others, waka were no more than the works of poets from long ago, without any bearing on their own poetic practice.

I had my answer and indeed succeeded in presenting poems that spoke to the group, yet, if anything, I felt even more lost. I could no longer see why tanka was special, why these poets composed exclusively tanka. They do not see themselves as the last generation in a long line of tanka poets, yet nor did they see themselves as artists focused on a single mode of expression. I struggle to understand, but the struggle is interesting. One day, I will certainly find out what tanka mean to its poets.

Catherine Alexander: Historical Sightseeing Circle

This semester for my CIP I participated in Doshisha’s Historical Sightseeing Circle. In this circle we learn about Kyoto’s many historical site and then visit in person as a group. Typically, after the planned visit to a historical site, everyone will go out to eat together. Also, because Kyoto is filled with sightseeing spots, we will often stop by shines and temples on our way to and from our main destination. Overall, this circle is a good opportunity to get to know a little more about Kyoto.

Besides the learning experience, I also feel that this circle taught me more about group dynamics in Japan. The biggest thing I realized was how the circle was divided by gender and age. In this particular circle, most of the first years were girls, so it was difficult to tell which factor was stronger; however it seemed like within the circle students tended to speak more with those who were the same age and gender. I wasn’t too surprised at this, because I’ve learned that age is important in Japanese society, but in comparison to America, where students normally group around major or common interests, I found it interesting. I myself, didn’t feel like a part of any of the gender or age groups, and normally switched around between them. As in a lot of cases, being a foreigner trumps other social classifications. However, I never really made an effort to stay with the others in my age group or gender, so things might have been different if I had.

The Historical Sightseeing Circle was a good experience, and I recommend it a CIP for those interested in Kyoto’s history. My advice for CIPs as a whole is to find something you enjoy doing!

Frances Chang: Kyodai Chorus Circle

Music is a universal language that connects people even when there is a language barrier. Coming to Japan, I knew that I wanted to relate my Community Involvement Project to music. I have been singing ever since elementary school and have participated in school choruses, musicals, a cappella groups and other performance opportunities. Through those experiences, I have also made life long friends. Therefore, I was determined that by joining a musical singing community, I would be able to further connect with local Japanese University students.

From the CIPs of past KCJS students, I was able to contact the Kyoto University (Kyodai) Chorus Circle. Because Japanese students end their school year around mid-February, it was a little nerve wrecking to find a circle that was still active. Fortunately, I was one of the first few people who started their CIP the second week of the program.

The Kyodai Chorus Circle is located across the Kyoto University Main Campus, where others circles, such as dance groups and orchestras, also hold meetings and rehearsals. The chorus is a coed group, where there are about 25 men and 15 women. The group sings both English and Japanese classic songs. In addition, a typical rehearsal day consists of Songs of the Day, Warm Up, Sectional Rehearsal, Ensemble Rehearsal, and ends with another Songs of the Day. Members are free to choose whichever songs they like to sing for Songs of the Day. The Warm Up session consists of physical, breathing, and vocal warm ups. Rehearsals are 3 times a week: mixed voices, individual voices, and men only rehearsals. Each rehearsal lasts 3 hours. The Kyodai Chorus Circle continued to have rehearsals throughout Japanese students’ spring break, with only a three-weeks vacation at the end of February to the beginning of March.

Japanese Chorus Circle is definitely different from choirs or musical groups in America. Although no auditions were required to join the group, I was surprised how professional everyone was. Many people had basic knowledge and background on music. However, vocal ability ranged. Japanese chorus students were very serious about their circle, and they were focused and work very hard during rehearsals. The girls rarely goofed off or took any breaks, and no one talked when the conductor was conducting or teaching. With the amount of focus, time, and effort put into the rehearsals, the chorus sounded wonderful. Moreover, there was no apparent senpai and kohai division in the chorus. After each rehearsal, members would have dinner together at near by restaurants or the cafeteria. The group dynamic was harmonious and pleasant.

Towards the end of April, the Kyodai Chorus has an annual Spring concert, which is where they introduce their new members. If you would like to perform with the Chorus at the concerts, I would advice you to go to more than 1 rehearsal sessions per week. This circle will definitely improve your personal musical ability and help you make some friends. However, if you are looking for a more active social environment, perhaps, another circle would be a better fit.

 

カサリン・アレクサンダー:史跡同好会

今学期は CIP として同志社の史跡同好会に参加しています。史跡同好会は京都の史跡を観光し たりするサークルです。史跡に行く前に勉強会で史跡についての歴史や文化を勉強して話し会 います。普通の活動の他に、年に五回くらいの合宿があるそうです。今度は温泉に行く予定 です。

実は、私は史跡同好会に入ったばかりなので、まだ分からないことが沢山あります。勉強会が あるから、入る前には真面目なイメージを持っていましたが、雰囲気はとてもカジュアルでし た。また、今まで私が会った他の会員は殆ど男性で、日本人の男性のお互いに対する話 し方について色々なことに気づきました。これから CIP で頑張りたいと思います!

クリストファー・ヒューバー:短歌部

 

僕はCIPとして京大の短歌部に入っています。15人くらいの短歌部は三種の活動
を行っています。一つは一人または二人の歌人の歌集を読んでおいてから、感想
を発表したり、議論したりする勉強会です。もう一つは参加者が二チームに分
かれてから、チームで短歌を詠んで、どちらのチームの短歌が上手いか判断する歌
合わせ会です。最後は予め詠草(短歌の下書き)を一首二首出しておいて、歌人の正体が分からないままで議論する歌会です。
僕は短歌を詠むのに興味を持っているし、皆の感想を聞かせていただくのが本当
に勉強になるので、殆ど歌会だけに参加します。歌会は、何人来るかや何首を出すか次第で期間が変わるけれども、普通は三、四時間近いです。一週に一回くらい行われるものです。

フランセス・チャン:京大合唱団

子供の時から、私は歌うことが大好きです。中学時代に初めて合唱団やパ−フォ−マンスをしました。だから、日本に留学する前に、歌うサ−クルに参加したいと思いました。そして、アメリカの大学でアカペラとか合唱団と独唱の経験があるので、日本の大学の歌うサ−クルは楽しみにしていました。最初、アカペラに参加したかったけど、他の学生のブログと先生のアドバイスは日本のアカペラのサ−クルとアメリカのアカペラが少し違うということでした。また、日本のグリークラブも全然違います。日本のグリークラブのメンバーは全員は男性です。合唱団に決めたのはこのような理由からです。

過去のKCJSの学生は京大合唱団に参加しましたので、情報があって、探しやすかった。私と友達三人は一緒に参加しました。合唱団の皆さんはとっても優しかったです。先輩はよく分からないことを手伝ってくれます。例えば、最初に、練習の事を説明してくれました。私は本当にありがたく思いました。

京大合唱団はとっても楽しいサ−クルと思います。練習は大体3時間ぐらいです。練習の時、歌うだけではなく、体操と色々な発表をします。練習のスケジュールはまず愛唱歌を選んで皆んなで歌います。次は、体操と発声の練習をします。その後で、パート練習をして、アンサンブルをします。最後は、愛唱歌をもう一度歌います。スケジュールは忙しくて暇な時間があまりありません。また、練習の後で、皆んなで一緒に夜ご飯を食べます。

合唱団の皆んなはとっても上手で真剣だと思います。オーデイションがないのに皆んなはプロみたいだと思います。毎回、皆んなは一生懸命練習してメモを書いて何も話しません。だから、アンサンブルの歌声はきれいに聞こえます。私は四月の演奏会を楽しみにしています!

もし、歌うことが好きなら、京大合唱団はいい選択ですよ!

http://kuc.main.jp

Michele Li: Doshisha Animal Life Circle

For my CIP, I participated in the Doshisha Animal Life circle with Ryan. It meets every Thursday at 6:30 at the Doshisha Shinmachi campus and this study group’s aim is to enrich their own knowledge on the current situations of animals around the world. But since there were school festivals (Clover Festival and EVE Festival) coming up and free papers they had to finish, their usual study meetings were put on hold to discuss what kind of booth they wanted to set up and what kind of layout they wanted for the free paper. As part of my CIP, I decided to observe if there were any differences in the way they treat foreigners as compared to the way they treat other Japanese students.

Through my participation, I realized that their attitude doesn’t depend on whether you’re a foreigner or a Japanese person, but whether they think of you as a friend or a stranger. If you were a complete stranger, as well as a foreigner, the club members tended to avoid striking up a conversation and preferred to ignore your presence. For example, when Ryan and I went to the first meeting, although they first greeted us with smiles and snacks, as soon as they started to discuss the festival preparations, they turned their backs to us and proceeded to speak amongst themselves. Not once during the meeting did they meet our eyes or try to talk to us. We were left to figure out what was happening by ourselves. This continued throughout the semester. There was another instance when Ryan and I were working with a Japanese club member in order to make decorations for the club’s booth, but it was basically us working in silence. We tried striking up a conversation, asking what last year’s booth was like, etc., but the conversation always died after one exchange. The Japanese student didn’t try to continue the conversation and seemed like he felt uncomfortable talking to us for more than a minute. On the other hand, if you were someone they knew, they would greet you with exuberance and constantly joke with you, even if you were a foreigner. For example, there was a Korean exchange student who was in the club with us, but since everyone in the club was familiar with him, they would constantly chat with him and poke fun at him. There was even this one time when the president of the club wasn’t able to come to a meeting, so she made the Korean student the leader of that day’s meeting instead. Although it was a little disheartening to be ignored after trying to converse with them, it was still an interesting experience to see how the club members acted around each other.