KCJSのCIPのために私は「パルクール」を選んだ。どうしてパルクールを選んだのかというと簡単で面白そうだからである。パルクールをする人が映画によく現れるのでパルクールの人気がアメリカばかりでなく世界中で高くなってきていると言える。私は高校時代からパルクールに興味を持っているが京都に来るまで機会がなかったので「NaGaRe」というパルクールのチームを見つけるとすぐパルクールを選んだ。
「NaGaRe」というチームは関西のチームなので稽古する時に京都か大阪の公園でする。毎週末稽古があるがどこに集まるかは日によって違うので毎週「nagareparkour.jp」というサイトをチェックしなければならない。稽古は三時間かかり、毎回同じ順番である。
ストレッチ → パルクールの基礎トレーニング → パルクールを用いたゲーム → クールダウン→フリータイム
このようにすればけがをせずにパルクールの技を習い、パルクールのスキルを上げることができる。パルクールは経験がなければ本当に怖いことかもしれないが怖くても面白い役立つスキルと思うので今学期頑張ろうと思う。
私はCIPとしてパルクールを始めました。パルクールは走ったり、飛んだり、登ったりという動きをして、自分を鍛えるスポーツです。先週の日曜日に小坂の鶴見緑地で活動している「ながれ」というパルクールグループに初めて行きました。初めての練習は鶴見緑地でしたが、他にも関西のいろいろなところでします。練習でヒロキ先輩とシュガーというリーダーからいろいろな動きをおしえてもらいました。例えば、ストライドという走り方とか壁を上ることなどです。二人はすごく上手なパルクール選手ですから足だけで壁をのぼったり、２０メートルをジャンプしたり、できます。学ぶことがたくさんあります。私が「ながれ」に入ったのは本当の自由を見つけたかったからです。これからがんばってしていくつもりです。
今学期も、京大水泳サークルMiconosに参加しています。毎週水曜日か土曜日に、西京極総合運動公園にある京都アクアリーナで二、三時間泳ぐことになっています。水泳後はたいてい部員と夕食をとるというアフターにも参加しています。
三時間泳ぐといっても実はみんなマイパースで泳いでいるので、泳ぐよりプールで話すことになってしまいます。しかし、この話す時間は忙しいKCJSの学生にとって、とても大切な交流時間なので、泳ぐより話す方が好きです。先学期知り合った人ともっと話したり、時間を過ごしたりできるので、もっと深い関係になれます。Miconosは３０人の部員がいるそうですが、普段活動に来る人は１０人ぐらいです。だから、この小さいグループの中で、個人的な会話ができて、仲がいい友達が出来ました。
私のCIPは同志社大学の卓球サークルです。中学生の時に卓球をよく練習しましたが、高校と大学の6年間は全然練習しなかったです。卓球は日本で人気があるので、京都の卓球クラブを探しました。そして、同志社大学の卓球サークルが春休みも活動していることを知って、一月の第三週に見学に行きました。
卓球サークルの学生達はみな上手です。私は卓球をした経験がありますから、すぐ入会を許されました。会員数は40人ぐらいで、男子学生が多いです。練習は週三回あって、活動場所は今出川キャンパスと新町キャンパスと京田辺キャンパスの体育館で、とても素晴らしい施設です。卓球サークルに入ったら卓球のラケットと靴を買う必要があります。
卓球サークルの仲間は優しいし、色々なことを話します。練習の後で、一緒に晩御飯を食べに行きます。実は、昨夜飲み会の約束があって、私は初めて参加しました。居酒屋でみな楽しい気持ちで話をしました。飲みニケーションのおかげで、すぐ友達ができました。
僕は留学している間にいろいろな活動をしています。最初に、二月から上京学校で先生と一緒に中学生に英語を教えます。普通の行く日は火曜日か金曜日。着いたら、先生のオフィスに行って、そして、村松先生を待ちます。その後、教室に行ったら、先生のパソコンといろいろな教えるものを運んで差し上げます。それから、英語を教え始めます。
中学生達はちょっとしか英語を習っているから、僕の一番大切な仕事は学生のモチベーションを高くすることです。例えば、僕は学生が発音を練習している時、最初に発音を言って、それから、学生が僕と同じ発音をしたいから、一所懸命練習します。それに、ゲームをする時、モチベーションのために、僕がちょっと日本語で言うと、学生は僕が日本語で話すことを聞いて、「外国人が日本語を習えれば、私たちも英語が習える」と考えます。
教えることとは別に、休み時間に、友だちと遊んで、そして、昼ご飯の休みの間に、学生とサッカーをします。
僕は二つサークルにも入っています。同志社のバスケサークルと京大のサッカーサークルに入りました。バスケのサークルは週によって、練習の曜日と時間が代わります。チームを作って、８分のゲームをして、それから、チームが代わります。来る人の数に応じて、色々なゲームをしたり、チームのメンバーをかえたり、します。男性のゲームの間、女性は短いゲームをします。サークルの中に女性が十人くらいいます。
サッカーのサークルは十時半から一時まで一週間に水曜日と土曜日にあつまります。ゲームの仕方はバスケのゲームのし方と似ています。けれども、女性が少しだけだから、一緒にサッカーをします。その後、一緒に昼ご飯を食べます。
The first day I showed up at a Doshisha Track Club practice was a nerve-wracking one; I hadn’t emailed anyone prior and took the 60 minute journey to Kyotanabe myself. I had gone over in my head exactly what I would say (it was early in the semester, my Japanese was still no good), making sure to throw in the –nkedo at the end to come off as not too forward. When I finally arrived I just stood at the side of the track, had a mini panic attack, and decided to cash in on the I’m-a-nervous-foreigner card. Hard. A girl approached me as I stood drawing circles in the dirt with my foot and, in well-articulated English, asked me what I was doing there. This is your moment! I thought, and managed to stutter out the lines I had rehearsed so thoroughly. After that things were a blur, and even today I am still surprised at how easily I was accepted as a semi-regular member of the Doshisha track practices. Even on that first day I was asked if I wanted to participate in the meets, full uniform and everything. I was taken aback, but unfortunately, due to being in Kyoto for only a semester, the logistics of it would have been too difficult, and I was relegated to a practice-only “member.” And so began my CIP journey.
I’m not exactly sure I can say I learned a lot through my CIP. Some other students throw themselves into completely new and foreign experiences, but I chose to go with something more familiar. Being already well-versed in the activity itself, I had the chance to focus on the differences between American and Japanese sports. It was a bit difficult to practice my Japanese at first, as many of the students liked to practice their English with me, and asked a lot about America. I consented and spent the first few sessions speaking a good deal of English before the shininess of the new American runner wore off. After that, I was able to pick up on a lot of the unique things about the team.
Being somewhat versed in Japanese culture, I expected a good deal of the experiences I eventually underwent. I knew there was going to be clear hierarchy within the team, honorific language and the like, and I knew there was going to be a certain intensity that contrasted to the often lukewarm commitment of American athletes. All of this was true, but I was surprised by the degree to which these things revealed themselves. I remember one day when I was doing a hill workout with Nakaoka (essentially my assigned training partner, at least in the first few practices) and a few other underclassmen that this hierarchy revealed itself. I should note that Nakaoka and I are juniors, while the others seems to be freshmen and sophomores. After the first rep, which we all did together, I was approached by some of the other members with a water bottle and a towel. At first I was confused and said that they didn’t belong to me, sorry, wrong person, but they continued to insist. I then realized that they were the team’s towel and water bottle, and they were giving them to me because I was an older person on the team. This kind of behavior would never fly in America, due to ideals of equality and a fear of elitism. After the workout, those same athletes collected the towels and water bottles in a bucket and took them back to put them away.
This was easily the most surprising experience of my time with the team. Many other differences eventually revealed themselves, though mostly in terms of training philosophy and preparation. My time with the track team at Doshisha was a fun one, and it certainly made very real the things I had only learned about. Thanks to the team, I realized my dream of becoming the person with the strongest body at KCJS this semester.
I dreamed of boarding my homeward bound flight, a renaissance man, proficient in countless traditional Japanese arts. The prospects of representing my country in kyūdō, quite surprising my family with a Christmas shakuhachi performance, and, abandoning my awful handwriting for my newfound shodō brilliance provided me with a reason to actually look forward to the end of this semester. Save for a dramatic turn of events, these arguably lofty dreams look to be well and truly crushed.
Advised, by the powers that be, not to try my hand at an activity I had no experience in, I regretfully crossed off pretty much every possibility on list. I’m an Englishman. Football is my inochi, how spectacularly original. I stalled before reluctantly accepting that my CIP was to be football. After much research, aided significantly by Yamaoka-sensei, I trotted down to the Kamogawa one fine Saturday morning. Despite not finding the one I had been hoping to, I ended up joining the team that was training there. I say with questionable certainty that this team’s name is Nyū Borā; my understanding is that it came from some Italian phrase.
Football is, in theory, a very rewarding CIP. Unfortunately, I was only able to attend the team’s Saturday training sessions, and even then I missed a bunch of them because sometimes there were matches and other times I was getting lost elsewhere during my travels. A team sport whose squads consist of usually 20+ members bound by banter and strong camaraderie, football does provide a solid opportunity to make Japanese friends.
To my relief, the team seemed to jump at the opportunity to count an igirisujin amongst its members; coming from a football-crazy nation helped. Even though they did not add me to their Line group, the players welcomed me with varying enthusiasm, but enthusiasm nonetheless. Many were eager to befriend me in the hope that my English be contagious. I shared meals with a few members, and became as close as my Japanese permits to the only other Doshisha student in this Kyodai circle. Though at times it was tough to keep up with the Kansaiben and speed of speech, conversation was manageable because, unsurprisingly, all of the members were happy to talk about football. There is a strong sense of hierarchy and seniority and an absence of honorifics. Amusingly, when the ball flew into the river the newcomers were expected to retrieve it, and one actually disrobed and entered the water. Upon approaching the team, I was immediately directed towards el capitano, who would often express his surprise at my use of honorifics in emails. This is not different to what one would expect in any other country.
My CIP was enjoyable despite my infrequent attendance preventing my participation in the matches. I made some acquaintances, understood a joke here and there, and tried to improve my embarrassing casual Japanese.
For my community involvement project I participated with the Doshisha Hiking Club. Although it is called a club, the Doshisha Hiking Club is actually a circle, which gave me insight into the difference between circles and clubs in Japan. Although I have had no experience with true clubs in Japan, from what I have been told they are quite serious and require mandatory attendance usually multiple times a week, and I imagine this is what the Doshisha Alpine Club is like, who occupy the room next to the Hiking Club’s in the Gakusei-kaikan (Student’s Hall). Because of this distinction, the Hiking Club has a very laid-back and relaxed feel. Attendance is not taken, activities are not necessarily mandatory, and exchange students are always welcomed, making the Hiking Club and excellent circle for KCJS students to join because it easily conforms with the unique KCJS schedule.
Although the Hiking Club was simple to join and very relaxed, there were many things about the club that I found surprising and very different from hiking and outdoor clubs in North America. First, when we didn’t go on hikes, we did training, which was jogging along the river. This was surprising as people don’t train for hikes in North America unless they are doing serious mountaineering. When I told other Japanese friends about training, they were similarly surprised. Therefore, training added a strange element of seriousness to a very relaxed and not necessarily serious club. A few members always opted out of these training sessions, but still met at the Gakusei-kaikan at the meeting time. This led me to realize that the training sessions served as a secondary activity to the weekly meeting—their main purpose was to bring the group together once a week. Rather than only meeting once a month to go hiking like a typical group at a North American university would, the Doshisha Hiking Club meets every week to strengthen the group dynamic in between hikes. This commitment to the group beyond participating in the commonly shared interest reflects the strong commitment to unity among groups prevalent in Japanese culture.
The second most surprising thing I observed was the friendliness we showed to other hikers on the trail. On our first hike up to the Daimonji near Ginkakuji, the trail was relatively crowded, but we never hesitated to give an energetic and lively “konnichiwa!” to every single person we passed. While saying hello to strangers on the trail is certainly not unique to Japan, the amount of people we said it to and the emotion we put into every greeting certainly was. This makes the trail in Japan a very friendly place, and there is a sense that everyone is engaged in the same struggle together.
Despite my limited Japanese skills, I was able to make some valuable insights into how one of my favourite activities is affected by a different culture. Joining the Hiking Club was very fun, laid-back, and often pleasantly unexpected. I wish I could be here between the spring and fall semesters when they do more serious hikes further away from Kyoto.
Upon entering the dojo, one must bow to the dojo itself; that is, not the teacher nor the student, but the entity and history that the dojo represents. This is what comes to be called the sacred in Western culture. Often times, however, this deification comes primarily from ignorance regarding the true nature of the respect offered. During the Fall of 2014, as part of the Kyoto Consortium for Japanese Studies curriculum, I participated in nearby Kendo Dojos including the Kyoto University Kendo Circle, Kyoto Budo Center Kendo Team, and a visit to Satosho Budo Center Team
Kyoto University Kendo Circle (http://www.geocities.jp/kendo_shishinkai/) meets on Wednesdays and Fridays, with a join practice at the Budo Center on Saturdays. The skill level varies in the team but does require at least a year’s worth of experience. The practice is led by Okaya sensei, a 6th Dan. In general, while around a dozen people practice, the club boasts over twenty active members. All of whom, myself excluded, are students of Kyoto University.
Practice usually consists of three segments: warm-up, basics practice, and free practice. By warm-up I mean a set of stretches and around 150 practice swings to warm up the body. Warm up typically lasts for about twenty minutes, at most. The majority of the practice is taken up by basics practice, which begins with simple one step technique and finishes with continuous multi step waza. Free practice is rather similar to a match, other than that score is not kept. Rather, free practice is intended as a review for the skills learnt on that day.
What appeared the most interesting was the deeply rooted culture of respect and etiquette. Kendo is said to be an art to grow as a person—through learning etiquette. Having identified myself as a senior, I was surprised that even those more skilled than me would speak in keigo and kenjougo. When addressing a group, the teacher and the club leader would also speak formally. Only in private conversation between friends would those of higher standing speak in simple form.
Due to time constraint, I would attend the Saturday practice at the Budo Center (http://www.kyoto-sports.or.jp/shisetsu/detail/budo.html). Other than age differences – Budo center practice has older and younger people – there was a minute difference in basic etiquette. For example: the seiza sitting position and entering the position remains the same across dojos. However, the Kyoto Martial Formatted: Indent: First line: 0.5″Arts Center Kendo Team would place the shinai (bamboo katana) on the right side rather than the left. Symbolically, a katana on the left symbolized being armed, where on the right the swordsman is disarmed. In Satosho, the classroom teaches that the bokuto (wooden katana for Kendo kata) and the iaito (unsharpened katana) are placed on the right, whereas the shinai remains on the left. Contrary to these nuances, however, the general responsibilities and duties remained the same regardless of the dojo.
Overall, it has been a pleasure being able to continue practicing the art of Kendo in Japan. Learning the importance of respect in kendo helped gain deeper understanding of the entire Japanese culture.
For my CIP, I participated in a Kyoto University swimming circle called Miconos (http://www.miconos.net/ ). This experience was great for me, and taught me about Japanese college social life. I met a lot of really nice people, had a blast swimming, and am happy to be able to continue participating in this club next semester.
Prior to coming to Japan, I had some presumptions on what Japanese sports circles would be like based on my own experiences studying abroad four years ago at Doshisha International High School, my playing Water Polo at the club level at Hamilton College, and from various TV shows and anime. I had believed that sports circles would be very strict, and that participating in practices and other events would be mandatory. This assumption stemmed essentially from my applying an even stricter hierarchical relationship, and expectation to participate to my surprising strict Water Polo club in America. But when I started participating in my circle, I quickly realized how wrong my assumptions had been. While there certainly is a stricter hierarchy relating to senpai-kouhai status, there is very little pressure to go to practice or other events. When I was first searching for a club to join, I found Miconos’ website which stated that swimming was to be done at one’s own pace, and that members were expected to participate in the after. After is the act of members of the club going out to dinner after practice. Despite the website’s claims, I found that even amongst the members who went to practice the number of members who participated in the after was less than those who don’t.
Additionally, I discovered the swim at one’s own pace part turned out to be a bit of an understatement. The club is much less focused on swimming than I had thought a swimming club to be. Although I did not expect everybody to be swimming for the full two hour practices, I was still surprised by the lack of swimming going on in the swimming circle. Most members would do a lap or two every now or then, but the majority of the time in the pool was spent chatting with each other. Most members were part of a swimming club at their High School, so they are definitely able to swim much more than they do, but instead most of them eventually spend a good amount of time in the pool’s Jacuzzi rather than swimming laps. In my college’s Water Polo team, we bond over overcoming arduous training regiments together, but in this Miconos that is not the case. I had assumed that the circle would be an incredible tight knit group that spends most of their free time with each other like a high school club. But Miconos did not reach the level of camaraderie that I was hoping for in a sports circle.
Although Miconos was not at all what I was expecting it to be, it is certainly not a bad experience. Because there is a larger focus on talking than swimming, I am able to better work on my Japanese by conversing with my fellow club members. Considering that most of our conversations pertain to past sporting events in High School, I believe that most of the members I converse with still love swimming. Yet, because they are no longer competing in meets, they are able to simply swim because they want to. Additionally through the club, they are able to meet people with similar interests, thus although the club does not have the athletic camaraderie that I love about sport teams, the circle appears to consist of several groups of friends, usually split by grade. Right now, I straddle an awkward position of foreign exchange student where I am friendly with most of the people in the circle, and their friend groups, but I am still an outsider to each one of the groups.
Overall, I am incredibly happy with the circle that I am participating in. It has taught me a great deal about Japanese college social and sports culture. It’s always a fun time swimming, talking and eating dinner with the members. Although I may not be completely satisfied with my current situation, I have a whole other semester to better get to know, and become better friends with my fellow club members.
I believe the most important point in picking a CIP is finding one that deals with something you have a lot of experience with, and are passionate about. Whether that be a certain sport, musical instrument or even a niche interest. Commonly shared experiences are some of the easiest way to make connections with people, and as foreigners, we really don’t have many with Japanese students when it comes to everyday life. But one shared experience you are bound to have in your CIP is an interest in whatever the subject of said CIP is. Therefore, you will have a lot more to bond over, and talk about if you are more invested in the topic which your CIP covers. This can come from connecting over long arduous practices routines you suffered through while in high school, songs you know how to play, and teaching others how to play them, or a show that you and those in your CIP have watched and enjoyed separately. It will definitely be awkward in the beginning, especially if you are the only foreigner in your CIP. But if you can reach out and bridge the gap between you and the members of your CIP through these shared experiences, I’m sure you will have a great time.