毎週上京中学校の英語の授業でボランティアをしています。一年生の村松先生という英語の先生の授業を手伝います。毎週火曜日に行って、金曜日にも時々行きます。同志社大学から上京中学校まで歩いて五分ぐらいしかかかりません。十一時半ごろから一時まで手伝います。
日によって違うクラスに行くから、毎回新しい経験です。村松先生の生徒は一年生だから、いつも笑っていて賑やかです。村松先生は僕に英語の文を読ませたり話させたりします。時々僕が英語のゲームを作っておいて、教室で学生とします。生徒は英語のレベルがちょっと低いから、うまく喋れないし、ちょっと恥ずかしがりやだから、僕に質問をあまりしません。でも、僕の目標は生徒が将来英語が上手になりたいと思わせることです。日本の学校の生活が見えるから、とても楽しくていい経験だと思います。
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。
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.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I finalized my plan to volunteer at Ohara Gakuen. I was worried that with my limited Japanese, especially in using keigo, I may not be excepted. Nervous and confused, I went to meet with the English teachers and principal. I left Ohara that day feeling that I would be not only accepted, but also appreciated.
The first unexpected thing that I noticed was that all of the staff treated me as an adult. Being nineteen, I’m just barely considered independent in America, and certainly not in Japan. However, as I was held to a high standard of responsibility, and I found myself naturally rising in an attempt to meet expectations.
Though they were clearly pleased with the fact that I was there, they were rightfully worried about presenting me correctly to the students. Having many food allergies, I couldn’t always eat all the food that the kids ate, and I was surprised by how important it was to explain to the children that the only reason I wasn’t eating was because I could get hurt – not because I didn’t like the food. I was a bit surprised, because I didn’t think that the kids would have a difficult time understanding this, but, to the teachers, it seemed to be something important to overcome.
Another hardship for me personally, was switching between English and Japanese so frequently. I’ve had trouble with this in America as well, when talking with a Japanese friend and an American friend at the same time. I was asked to just use English with the students, and I did whenever I could, but there were many times when I had to use Japanese to explain something more complicated, and when I spoke to the teachers. Especially with the younger kids, it ended up being more of me asking about their English in Japanese.
The younger children speak in such small voices that it didn’t matter if I would understand their Japanese, because I couldn’t hear them at all. I didn’t want them to shy away from me when communication problems arose, so I attempted to answer them even when I didn’t hear what they said. This is tough to do in your mother tongue. Together with my lack of Japanese fluency, and having no context for the conversation I was having, the kids would often stare at me blankly, obviously having not understood a word I just said. Even so, when I did say a sentence or two, they were wildly surprised and delighted. One boy asked me a question, and I explained to him as best I could. When I was through, he stared at me with his mouth open. I started trying to rephrase what I said, because obviously my Japanese wasn’t up to par, but after a moment of silence he exclaimed, “Wow! She can speak Japanese!” He seemed to have no interest at all in the answer to the question. I wonder, if he was so surprised, did he expect to just not understand my answer, and go along his marry way after he’d asked the question? Either way, I appreciated his enthusiasm and his cuteness was astounding.
But just in case matters weren’t complicated enough, there was one more barrier to communication that I was surprised to find. In one case, I used the word “novel” while explaining my hobbies to the first graders. The student immediately responded, “What’s a novel?” Caught off guard, and trying to remember if that was indeed the Japanese word for novel, I didn’t respond at first, eventually stuttering out “N-novel?” in hopes that this time around I would say it correctly. The little girl ran over to the teacher and repeated the question. “A novel is a story,” the teacher answered, and the girl, who had since lost focus on the conversation we were having, trotted off to play with everyone. That was an experience I never thought I’d have.
The one downfall of it all, is that I don’t feel as though I’ve done all I can for Ohara. I would attempt to assist in lessons, teach pronunciation, and talk to the students, but I was unequipped to do the latter. I had never been to a Japanese middle school, and I certainly hadn’t studied the English education system for that region of Japan, so I was completely amiss as to how much English a student knew. Then there’s the individual difference between each student. I only ever had the chance to have a few sentenced conversation with any individual student, because the school was large and there was only one of me. And in that conversation, I couldn’t overcome the student’s shyness, gauge how much English they knew, and then make up a conversation that uses their level of English so that they could practice. In that way, I wish I had more time with them, I would have learned more, an I believe I maybe could have had more of an impact on them too.
Some of what I predicted was true; there were levels of formality and structure that I was foreign to, and needed to work hard to overcome. And a lot of what I feared turned out to be just fine. My confidence wavered throughout the program, as I battled with things I thought could be better, and melted as the kids became more and more animated about talking to me and learning about a foreign culture. But in the end, the hour commute to Oohara every week was not something that I dreaded, it was in fact something that looked forward to. On the long bus ride into the mountains, I could feel my eagerness and excitement swelling in me. Even if I had had a terrible experience on every other day, in every other class, it would all be worth it for what one first grader said as I entered the room. 「レイ先生 来てくれた！」”Ms. Rei came for us!” The feeling in my heart that that one little boy drew out, was worth everything in the world.
Thank you Oohara, it’s hard to say good-bye.
For my CIP this semester, I’m in a manga class. So far I’ve attended about 5 sessions and I’m enjoying my experience for a couple of reasons. My CIP is scheduled for every first and third Saturday from 4pm to 7pm, but my teacher has added additional lessons. I’ve been going every week for the past 3 or 4 weeks. When I first went to my class, there were 2 girls stationed at 1 table and the other only table was empty, so I sat there. Because I don’t talk often, I actually don’t remember the names of the girls or the names of the 2 (sometimes 3) teachers that I work with. This may be different fro another person who is more talkative than myself. We’ve all been working on individual projects so my teacher rotates between us, occasionally checking up on out work and giving advice, suggestions, corrections, etc. Because of my short time time attending the class, and my skill level, my focus is practicing on drawing ‘real manga’ using multiple tools and techniques for experience’s purpose.
When I first entered the class I would say for sure that I was a little bit lonely because it was a quiet space and I’m used to the very social bustling art spaces that I’ve experienced in the US. This is not to say it can’t be this way, but coupled with my language barrier and our personalities, it ends up being mostly quiet besides our teachers talking amongst themselves. There is 1 girl that started coming and she is very energetic and fun to listen to. She and the teachers didn’t speak much to me (besides teaching) for the first 3 classes, but I think as they realized that I can communicate in an okay manner, they’ve begun to engage me more. They ask me questions about America, English, the Caribbean (I’m Caribbean American), etc. I really enjoy these conversations because I think they make everyone ore comfortable. Including myself. I think for class the experience is really what you make of it. You’ll be working on your own individualized project, so its good to pick something you actually want to focus on.
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.
While I started my CIP in a temple and shrine sightseeing circle, the circle’s schedule proved to be unfeasible for a CIP project and I instead joined Klexon. Klexon is a volunteer organization in the Kyoto area that is the equivalent of a meet-up group. In this case, Klexon is a meet-up between fluent English-speakers and Japanese in the Kyoto area who want to speak English.
During my various CIP experiences with both Klexon and the sightseeing circle I’ve encountered a few facets of Japanese culture and society that seem to coincide with what I’ve experienced outside of CIP as well. In CIP, we are asked to make hypotheses and generalizations about the Japanese. But to a large extent, what my CIP experience has taught me is that there are various Japanese people who don’t all believe the same things.
For example, my first night at Klexon, we were asked to draw a fall festival from our hometowns and talk about them. Obviously, I had no choice but to write about Halloween. Others wrote about different festivals. I asked two Japanese people what their festivals celebrated, because they only explained what happened during the festival, and I’m interested in that sort of thing. Both said they didn’t know and seemed slightly troubled by my question, but, after the second time, one of them told me that the Japanese sometimes just hold festivals and that they don’t necessarily mean anything. Now, we weren’t speaking in his native language, so I can’t say for sure. I can think of half a dozen alternatives off the top of my head, but I had the sense that my questions had been offensive or perhaps troubling to him in some way. The next day, I spoke to my Japanese language partner and asked her what she thought of my question, but she thought it was a perfectly normal thing to ask and that the festival probably had some sort of origin.
So, while it is a small example, it still provided an insight that I try to keep in mind. Not all Japanese people will feel the same way about something. So I’m largely reluctant to do anything that involves making generalizations about a group of people.
Having said that, I’m going to make one based off of my CIP experience that has been supported by my interactions with Japanese outside of CIP. During my time with the sightseeing circle, we climbed partway up Fushimi-Inari Taisha. A little way up, we all went to a stone where you would make a wish and try to lift the stone. If you could lift the stone your wish might come true. I lifted it, yay me, but my wish is a secret ;P—Anyway, after everyone tried lifting the stone, people started asking everyone around them if they had a girlfriend, particularly those who couldn’t lift the stone. I got the feeling they were asking whether they wished for girlfriends, but my Japanese wasn’t good enough to tell. Then, they asked me if I had a girlfriend. Now, in the U.S., that kind of question is a little forward, because, if the person doesn’t, that might be inconsiderate. Also, when someone asks you that there’s some level of connotation that they’re asking for themselves or for a friend. Fortunately, I didn’t jump to conclusions and assume I was being asked out. After I said I didn’t, they asked me if I was married; though, I misunderstood them to be asking if I wanted to be married. I said once I found the right person, yes, I’d like to be married. But, after that, I kept on hearing kekkon (marriage) being brought up in the various conversations around me. I was a little surprised, because Americans typically aren’t so forward about those questions with people they’ve just met. But, from what I’ve experienced in Japan both in CIP and outside, these kinds of questions seem to be pretty normal. For example, my friend’s adoptive Japanese family took a few of us out to lunch. In the middle of lunch, the mother turned to me from a long conversation with someone else and, without context, asked me what I thought of Japanese girls. Stunned, I managed to remember how to say that between American girls and Japanese girls either is fine. Another example would be in Klexon. One man I spoke to was quite interested in my love life and asked me if I had a girlfriend. After I said I didn’t, he said I should get a Japanese girlfriend. Upon hearing that I had a host sister, he asked if she was beautiful. The next day, I went to my Japanese language partner and asked if these kinds of questions are normal. She explained to me that they’re pretty normal questions when people first meet new people. So, while these questions may be incredibly awkward and forward in America, they appear to be standard operating procedure here in Japan.
So, yes, I would say that I’m reluctant to make generalizations about groups of people. But, at the same time, there are customs and cultural norms that are different here than elsewhere. I guess that’s just something to keep in mind.
私はまだGRADATIONというサクールに入っていないから、入りたい理由を説明する。もちろんセクシュアリティの問題は私にとって大切な問題だ。でも、もう一つは社会の問題を通じて文化の違いが分かると思うからだ。日本の文化が分かりたいし、この経験を通じて自分の文化ももっと分かりたいし、日本人のセクシュアリティの生活と考え方について習いたいので、このサクールに入りたいのだ。実はサクールの人からメールで私の意見とセクシュアルオリエンテーションについてはっきり聞かれた。私はそういうのはいいと思った。そしてもし入れなくてもいいと思う。このサクールはセクシュアルマイノリティのための安全なスペースだから、私が外国人であることがめんどくさかったら、それは分かる。結局、一番大切なことはみんなの気持ちと経験について心配しないで話せることなのだ。
毎週水曜の１１時ごろ、今出川を出発して国際会館まで電車にのる。それからバスで大原に行く。１時間くらいかかるのだが、私は気にならない。行き先が大原学園だから。そこで私は先生達と手伝って英語を教える。生徒は可愛く賢いので教えられるのが嬉しい。アメリカについて色々なことを教えたり、英語の発音をと話し方を練習してあげる。先生達は全員優しいし面白い人だから毎週に行くのをいつも楽しみしている。まず小学生１年生と昼ご飯を食べて週によって違う学生の授業に行く。廊下で私に挨拶をしてくれる子供が皆はまだまだだけど、よく頑張っているようだ。
ＣＩＰとして私は「指薪会(ししんかい)」という京都大学剣道サークルに参加して、日本の剣道の礼儀と日本の社会の文化を学んでいます。水曜日と金曜日の１時から２時半までの、京大体育館における練習では、岡屋(おかや)先生に教えていただいています。参加している部員は日によって違いますが、たいてい１０人以下しか来ません。三つの稽古に分割された練習は基本的な練習から始まり、試合のような自由な稽古で終わります。剣道には「礼で始まり、礼で終わる」ということわざかあり、日本の剣道はそれに基づいていると言われています。相手と練習する時は「お願い致します」と言い、した時は感謝の気持ちを丁寧な話し方で伝えるのは必要だと考えられるので、剣道では礼儀が大事なのは言うまでもありません。
剣道とは心を学ぶ芸術だと言われています。昔は生きるかどうかが決まる勝利は大事だったものの、現在はそうではないと言えます。部員へのインタビューと練習への参加で、剣士は成長するとか良い人間になるため剣道を練習しているということが分かってきました。勘違いかも知れないので、これからもよく観察するつもりです。