僕の専門は認知神経科学ですが、これはどのように認知や心理などが脳から生み出せるかに関する学問です。もちろん、KCJSでは、これについての授業がとれませんが、日本にいる間、日本の研究制度も体験したかったので、CIPとして京都大学で行っている研究グループでボランティアをしようと思いました。
そこで、京大の認知情報学の船橋新太郎教授に連絡しました。船橋先生はサルを用いた研究をしていらっしゃいます。先生に研究所を見学させてもらい、実験を見せてもらいました。現在、サルの大脳（詳しく言うと前頭前皮質）に刺した電極で神経細胞の活動を記録していらっしゃいます。
まだ大学生だし、研修など受けていないので、データ解析しか出来ませんが、研究室に行くのは本当にいい機会だと思います。そして、先生や大学院生は優しいし、研究室にみんあ集まっているので、日本語でのお喋りも出来ます。ブラウン大学で、研究した事ありますが、アメリカでの研究と比べると、日本の研究はどう違うかに興味があります。
Kyoto “Freeks”
As I wrote in my previous blog entry, rugby has been an enormous part of my life for the past 6 years. Since high school, I have trained and played almost religiously, and with Japan’s growing notoriety as a great Rugby nation, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity of playing the game I love overseas. I was excited to compare my skills and knowledge of the game with my Japanese counterparts, perhaps improve my game, and keep fit for when I return to my team at home. These original goals were personal, and rugby oriented. While the CIP portion of the program is meant to help better immerse students in the language and culture of Japan and the student’s immediate community, I initially didn’t look at this opportunity past the point of staying fit and getting a few more games under my belt. After more than 3 months practicing and playing with the “Kyoto Freeks” (yes, it is misspelled on purpose…or perhaps not?), however, I have realized that my CIP experience has yielded some valuable experiences.
Kyoto Freeks is a men’s rugby club comprised of mostly men in their 30’s. There are a few younger, and quite a few older, but all are working adult men. My friend Garrett (also from Amherst, studying in the Nichibun program) and I were the youngest members of the team. Most of the players on the team have extensive rugby experience, and while Japanese ruggers aren’t known for their size, I could definitely tell that many of the guys had been playing since middle school.
The first few weeks of practice consisted of joint sessions of the Freeks and the Doshisha High School Rugby Football Club at the high school grounds. Perhaps the first thing I noticed was the absolutely horrid condition of the field. The last time I played rugby was on the lush, soft, green fields of Massachusetts, offering a gentle cushion when being slammed into the ground by the opposition. But here, at my first practice, I looked upon a rectangular patch of sand. Not dirt. Dirt would suggest that there might have once been grass here, or that grass could foreseeably grow again in the future. Underneath the top layer of coarse sand was hard, unyielding, packed earth. I heard from a team member early on that the only other foreign player on the team was out for the season because he had snapped his collarbone simply falling over on the concrete-like pitch. To my surprise, these kinds of fields are the norm in Japan. The only fields with grass are larger stadiums style grounds that a reserved year round for match days. None of the Freeks or the high school players complained as we took the field, and I resigned to accept it just as they did. But I came to realize that the field was the last thing these players were concerned about. I’m convinced that if practice was held in a parking lot, they wouldn’t offer a single word of complaint. This was the first glimpse I got at the amazing work ethic of Japanese players, and as I would come to recognize, the no-nonsense work ethic that permeates all of Japanese society.
Something else that caught my attention was the unexpectedly clean standard of play I saw and experienced. Rugby is known worldwide as a rough man’s sport, full of hard hits that sometimes escalate into fights. But what I saw here was a calm that is rare in the states. There were moments where I thought a temper might rise to a boiling point, but the game always continued on without incident. It was refreshing to see the REAL “gentleman’s game” played as it should be. The referees were extremely professional as well, and all the players on both teams offered the referees the respect they were due. The discipline of Japanese players is second to none!
Although it was difficult to notice at first, I gradually became aware of clear senpai-kouhai relationships within the team. Unlike on many American teams, where the better players receive greater voice and respect, the kouhai on the team were quick to carry bags, shag balls, prepare the field, clean up trash, and poor beer for their senpai during nomikai. It was difficult for me to find a place within these dynamics. As a guest and a (large) foreigner, I was deferred to with much respect by all the members of the team, despite my efforts to lower myself appropriately. Most players originally thought that my age was closer to 31, not 21, which further complicated things. Many players had trouble with their interactions with me. The language barrier was of course a powerful issue, but I think there was more to it. I have a hunch that part of the reason I was shown such unyielding respect was because my host father, a 60 year old senpai of the club and former Doshisha rugger, introduced me. 3 of the more influential players on the team were also very close friends with my host father’s daughter and son, which made their giri to my host father even greater. As such, perhaps they felt a need to give me particular attention. Yet, I think it more likely that the kindness and respect I was shown was reflective upon my gaijin status, as removed from their uchi group, thus requiring me to be deferred to with greater emotional/social distance. In the end, I decided to continue using humble language and conduct with all the Freeks members.
By the end, my team mates became more comfortable with using Japanese with me, rather than attempting to communicate in hand gestures and broken English. Though I sometimes had to ask them to use less kansaiben, many players started to joke with me and I really started to feel like part of the team, especially after games with all the typical hugging and high-fiving. My Japanese got a good amount of practice as well. Through exchanging emails with the team captain, communicating with players on the field, and even doing a couple of one night homestays with my captain’s parents the night before some early morning games in Nara, I got to use Japanese more and see more of Japanese family life.
It was a shame to have so little time with the Kyoto Freeks. Just as I felt I was becoming a real member, my time has run out. I hope to return to Japan on the JET program, and perhaps I will be able to pick up where I left off with my new teammates, or at the very least stay in contact with them and visit.
The first and probably the most prevalent thing I learned from entering the Katano city orchestra was that it was not all that different from any other orchestra. The overall idea of an “orchestra” was not changed in any way. The conductor, Kimura-san, stood on a podium and swung his baton just as any other conductor, and reiterated passages when he wanted something different. It was easy to follow along, especially with seven years experience of playing the viola. Orchestra practices let me relax and recover from culture shock, as if returning to this little bubble where I actually knew how things worked that trancended both Japanese and American culture. Even following along with the conductor didn’t require all that much mastery of the language, since Kimura-san sung passages and made it clear as to what he wanted to change.
There was only one really noticeable culture difference that stuck out to me. The orchestra would stand and bow together at the beginning and end of practice. It was quite a shock to me the first time it happened, as I had not been expecting such a formality. Another tricky thing about practice was getting the measure numbers right. I had to harness my Japanese counting skill and listen closely to know where the orchestra was starting from. And the last thing that kind of bothered me was that I didn’t have an assigned seat. Usually there is a certain placement of orchestra members, and for the sake of a good concert, one is suppose to sit in the same spot for every practice. I never really knew where I was supposed to sit, so that was a little odd to me.
Speaking of the concert, I think the orchestra played their very best. Beethoven’s 9th symphony is no easy feat, but we somehow managed to pull through really spectacularly. I am really happy that I was able to play Beethoven’s 9th.
１５歳の時に僕はラグビーが大好きになりました。その時からずっと（怪我をしてしまった時以外）ラグビーをしています。日本のラグビーはだんだん強くなっていて、高校と大学とプロのチームではアメリカのよりもっと高いレベルだと思います。だから、日本にいるあいだ、もちろん、ラグビーをしたかったです。スポーツのチームで日本語をよく使ったり後輩と先輩の関係が簡単に見えたりいい日本人の友達が出来たりすると思うので、CIPはラグビーにしました。
僕のホストのお父さんは小さい時からずっと京都でラグビーをしていたので（しかし、今６０歳なので、出来ません）、京都でラグビーをしている人をだいたい知っているので、「京都フリークス」というチームに紹介してくださいました。今、一週間に一回練習があって、僕は毎日曜日に５時に起きて、バスと電車に乗って、７時に始まる練習に行きます。まだ、試合に出ませんが、１１月の試合のためによく準備しています。そして、僕のアマースト大学でラグビーをしているマッコウさんという友達も今学期同志社大学で留学しているので、僕のホストのお父さんは彼も「京都フリークス」に紹介してくださって、僕たちはアマーストの時のように一緒にラグビーをします。
私は交野市のオーケストラに入った。ホストファミリーの西野さんが入っているから入る時に助けてくれた。実はアメリカから楽器を持って来たのだが、それは大変だった。このオーケストラでビオラを弾くのは楽しくて、楽団員は本当に優しい。指揮者はいつも元気そうに歌いながら教えてくれるので、リラックスして弾ける。私は七年間ぐらいビオラを弾いているので、指揮者の日本語が全部分からなくても、指揮は理解しやすい。コンサートでベートーベンの第九を演奏するから、よく「ベートーベンの大工」という冗談を言う。その曲は難しくて、自分でもよく練習をしなくてはいけない。日本のオーケストラの中で弾くことを経験したかったから、今オーケストラでビオラを弾けることを楽しんでいる。