Christopher Avalos: Tea Ceremony Lessons

For my CIP activity, I took tea ceremony classes at Kyoto Wabichakai わび茶会(http://www.kyoto-wabichakai.info/). They took place once a week for around 2 hours. Even though this semester abroad was unfortunately cut short, I was able to take four lessons and learned a great deal in that time. I have always really liked Japanese tea and have seen videos about tea ceremony, but I still didn’t really know much about it. With the help of Yamaoka sensei, I found Wabichakai.

For my very first lesson, I mostly observed my sensei as she performed the tea ceremony for me, which involved multiple rituals, preparing and serving the tea, and serving wagashi, or a traditional Japanese sweet. The wagashi was one of my favorite parts of my tea ceremony experience, as the sweets were not only delicious, but they usually held some meaning. For example, one of the lesson’s wagashi was a plum blossom shaped mochi treat, which signified the winter season. I was also fascinated by the ritualistic nature of the entire ceremony. Specifically, everything was done precisely and a specific number of times. During the ceremony, my sensei also explained to me the history of tea ceremony in Japan. Although the vocabulary used was difficult at first, it got easier as time went on through the use of flash cards.

Subsequent lessons saw me more active during the lesson. My sensei taught me how to properly hold a tea bowl and how to drink the tea. Everything had to be done precisely and cleanly, especially when eating and drinking. Moreover, another one of my favorite parts about my experience was the field trip we made to Kitano Tenmangu shrine. The time we went, they had a plum blossom tree field for plum blossom viewing. Not only were the plum blossom trees beautiful, we also got some plum tea. My sensei also explained the history of the temple to me, as she is also well-versed in Kyoto history.

I really enjoyed the one on one nature of the lessons, as it allowed me to really build a relationship with my sensei. Not only did we perform the tea ceremony, but we also learned about each other as well. She told me about her experiences living in San Diego when she was younger and about her daughter. We also talked about my other classes, my family back home, and about my homestay family and experience. Even though I only had a few lessons with her, I feel like we were able to build a relationship that will hopefully last for years to come.

Despite the craziness of the past couple months, my CIP experience was a worthwhile one, and I plan on taking another lesson when I return to Japan in the future. I am grateful for the time I was able to take lessons with my sensei, and I look forward to seeing her again the future.

Sofija Podvisocka: Fencing

One of the conditions depending on which I decided to study abroad at Doshisha University was the presence of a fencing team, since I needed a space to practice in order to rejoin Brown’s team upon my return. Doshisha’s fencing team operates with a system very different from the one I’m used to, due to the absence of a coach and the dependence on small groups to schedule their own practices, which included usually a warm-up and sparring, with a few days where we would give each other individual lessons. I would meet with the women’s epee team anywhere from two to four times a week, depending on everyone’s availability. 

Practicing with the Doshisha fencing team led me to better understand Japanese cultures in terms of the senpai/kouhai system, but also the progression from using respectful forms to casual speech as we got closer. Furthermore, since I was the youngest of the group, although I had the most experience with fencing, I was given very little responsibility in terms of practices. However, as time went on and the boundary between me and the upperclassmen began to dissipate, I was allowed more say in what the practices entailed, and could even lead some of our drills. 

That being said, Doshisha’s fencing team reminded me in many ways of my own. No matter the differences in speech between Japanese and English, the struggles of the student-athlete remain the same. Between balancing classes and practices, making time to focus on this extracurricular, and the comradery of the team dynamic, I felt very much immersed in the same society as I was back home. 

For future KCJS students thinking about their CIP going into their study abroad experience, my main piece of advice would be to choose not based on the subject of the CIP entirely, but also based on the community you would be involving yourself in. Focus on building relationships throughout the semester just as you would back home, even though there’s an expiration date hovering in your mind you can’t always ignore. The CIP itself might be temporary, but what you learn from it will remain ever-present.

Sunny Snell: Volunteering at Preschool

For my CIP, I volunteered with Mitsuba Preschool twice a week as an English teacher and more general participant in daily activities. On Mondays, I joined the preschool for lunchtime, eating and playing outside, and on Thursdays I would come during after-hours, which was mainly indoor play.

Mitsuba is organized into three classes oldest to youngest: yurigumi (lily class, kindergarten-age), baragumi (rose class, pre-kindergarten), and momogumi (peach class, very pre-kindergarten). Although this was explained to me early on, it took a while to sink in. Similarly, there were other elements to the preschool, such as when and where we clean up, when it is appropriate to play, and how to dispose of a plastic bento box, that it felt like I struggled to learn. In general, I felt a lot of concern at first about fitting in and figuring out where I should be at any given time. However, the sensei’s and children were welcoming, it wasn’t long before I found myself more comfortable and invested, albeit not the most aware of every detail. Despite my lower level in the language, through smaller attempts at memorizing names or bringing proper supplies, I did my best to show the principal and teachers how much I wanted to be there, and they were hugely supportive. I also began to notice really interesting points about the preschool. For example, after playtime each day (which included activities like knitting, coloring, or construction using toys like Legos), the teachers would call up a few students to show the others what they had made. This was a fun way to see playtime being used for more specifically creative purposes, and I could tell the students loved the chance to see their effort validated. And the items that the students created truly were impressive: I watched a boy make a fully functioning (if not motorized) merry-go-round from a plastic construction-type playset.

Towards the beginning of the semester, I did activities like reading and singing in English, even singing “Let it Go” karaoke-style for all the kids during after-hours playtime. While that was a lot of fun and I hope the students enjoyed it, the most rewarding part of this semester was probably getting to know one particular student. During playtime, I noticed a student whose family more recently immigrated to Japan spent more time on the sidelines, so I approached him and we began to play together, most often communicating through gestures since neither of us could speak to each other in Japanese that well, let alone the other’s native language. Eventually he started to open up and seek me out, and I had the opportunity to see firsthand his work to adjust to the pace of the preschool. Just this week I spoke with another teacher about how much he has worked to learn Japanese: when I first arrived he was hardly speaking at all, but last week I watched him get through whole sentences. Being close enough to watch him improve alone made me feel the time I invested in the preschool was worthwhile.

Overall, I enjoyed the time I spent at Mitsuba and feel very grateful to have had the opportunity to get so uniquely involved in the community immediately surrounding Doshisha. If there is anything I have taken from the experience, it is gratefulness for the warm welcome of the teachers and students, and excitement for the future of the preschool, even if I cannot be there for it.

Nicholas Rasetti: Tennis

For my CIP, I’ve been playing tennis at the Saiin Park Tennis Courts with a local recreational program. Every Tuesday, Ben Bellick and I show up at 6PM and get to practice honing our tennis skills, both with each other, with Japanese, and under the guidance of the people running the program. Even in the short time I’ve been playing for since coming here, I can already see a lot of improvement in my game. On top of that, it’s a great way to blow off stress and relax without going out and spending too much money.

 

Although not particularly a Japanese activity in and of itself, I feel like tennis is a good window through which many aspects of Japanese culture and people can be seen. For example, one of my most common observations throughout my time on the courts was the willingness of the Japanese to lend a helping hand whenever you need it. They’ll gladly take time out of their own development to help you by explaining how you can improve your form or showing you what the right method is. Even with the language barrier, they’ve really done their best and I’ve learned a lot as a result. They have no obligation to help me in that way, but they’re always willing to, and for that I’m extremely grateful.

 

In addition to a willingness to help whenever I might need it, they’re also very encouraging and supportive. Anytime I might whiff a ball or make an error, they’re quick to jump in and tell me not to worry about it, or “Don’t mind!”. While this might not seem like much, when you’re trying your best to get back into a sport you haven’t played in a long time and are making a lot of errors, it can make all the difference. It’s much easier to laugh off an error along with everyone than to feel uncomfortable because you feel like people are silently judging you.  Overall, it’s the little things that make it a true pleasure to go out and play tennis with the friendly Japanese folk down at the Saiin tennis courts.

 

-Nick Rasetti

Zack Even: Volunteering at a Kodomo Shokudo

At the start of the program, I was unsure of what I wanted to do for my CIP. I had mentioned in the KCJS questionnaires that I was interested in participating in an activity involving cooking, and Nakata Sensei suggested that I work at a kodomo shokudo, a cafeteria where members of the community, particularly families with kids, can come for a free meal.

I tried calling a few kodomo shokudo’s in the area, and, after handing off the phone to Nakata Sensei almost immediately in the first call, I managed my way through the second on my own and found a shokudo that needed volunteers. With a limited amount of information about the cafeteria – just the name of one of the volunteers, its location, and a time I should arrive by – I set out the following Friday for the first time.

Because I knew very little about what to expect, I was nervous on my first day. Even finding the shokudo was a bit difficult: it is much smaller than I anticipated, located within an unassuming house. I waited for a few minutes along the street until someone appeared whom I could ask. Luckily, she was one of the volunteers.

Working at the shokudo has improved my Japanese language and allowed me to apply it in a way I rarely get to in class – to discuss food and cooking. My CIP has also introduced me to a number of interesting people, including the two kind women who run the shokudo, an economics professor at Doshisha, and a man who works in computer graphics, whom I met up with outside the shokudo to talk about computer animation. By preparing food alongside the women who run the shokudo, my vocabulary relating to food improved, along with my miming skills, which I could always fall back on if I didn’t understand what they had asked me to do. I also got to interact with kids who came to the shokudo. While my host family has a two-month-old baby whom I love having around, obviously I cannot communicate with her yet, so the shokudo gave me an opportunity – to practice my language with children – that I would not otherwise have had.

While, as a foreigner, I often felt a bit like the odd one out at the dinners, I also felt like I was truly participating in and even contributing to the community. As the woman who runs the shokudo asked me when my last day would be, I felt a sense of pride knowing that to a small degree they had come to depend on my help. While it seems that, at least at this particular shokudo, some families come simply to enjoy the community atmosphere, others seem to rely on the Friday dinners. Like in the US and any other countries, a portion of families in Japan cannot afford enough food for their children – one in seven, Nakata Sensei informed me. The shokudo guarantees them at least one stress-free, pleasant meal a week, and I enjoyed being able to help create that meal for the families who came.

Jamal Tulimat: Klexon

For my CIP activity, I participated in Kyoto International Club Klexon, a conversational club where English speakers come to speak with Japanese participants who would like to practice their English. The club met once almost every week from 7 to 9 PM at the Wings Kyoto Center. The two hours were split into parts; for the first one, I usually got a new partner every ten minutes in a way similar to speed dating, where I talked with them about anything ranging from our daily lives to our opinions on recent political developments. For the second hour, several Japanese participants and I made a group of five to six, where we got to speak in a way similar to friends on a group outing. Although we were usually given topics to talk about, I found it more helpful to talk about things that often come up in conversations to help the Japanese participants improve their English.

Participating in Klexon was a great opportunity to make native Japanese friends and feel more like I’m participating in the community. I was a bit sad at the beginning thinking that I was not going to get much of an opportunity to practice my Japanese, but luckily after the first week, I got to go to the local bar with newly made Klexon friends where I spoke with them in Japanese while sharing a nice drink. After immersing myself more in the club, I began to think of Klexon as more of a social place where one meets friends rather than a place where one comes to do work. The more I participated in Klexon, the more I bonded with friends I made there. Eventually, several KCJS student participants and I got to make a group chat with our Klexon friends where we scheduled meet ups and outings on some weekends. On one Saturday, we all got together and went to the Kyoto Shibori Museum where we learned different dying techniques before we each got to dye our own scarf in wonderful patterns and colors.

Even though English is my second language while Japanese is my fourth, participating in Klexon really helped me understand my progress in Japanese, further showing me what I needed to focus on to get better. For example, after seeing where Japanese people commonly made mistakes, I was able to reflect on expressions that were difficult to say since they did not translate between the two languages very well.

Needless to stay, Klexon was a significant part of my study abroad and language study and I’d recommend it to anyone who is willing to go out of their comfort zone to make friends. My tip is – if you want to get to know someone, ask for their LINE! It’s easy and most people will say yes. Klexon is really the experience that you make out of it!

Derek Hong: Ritsumeikan Wadaiko DON

For my CIP, I participated in Wadaiko DON.  Wadaiko DON is a student-run taiko circle at Ritsumeikan University.  At my home university in the US, I am a part of a taiko club run by Brown and RISD students called Gendo Taiko, and I wanted to see how a wadaiko circle as run by students in Japan differs from a taiko club run by students in the US.

My initial contact with the club was difficult since I was still getting used to having full conversations in Japanese.  However, the students in the club were welcoming and readily willing to let me participate.  The amount of time I needed to put into my CIP was a little higher than usual since practice was usually twice a week for at least an hour, but I was determined to try and participate as much as I could.  During practice, I had to quickly get comfortable using plain forms and, more importantly, using casual speech.  In the end, even though I’m still not fluent in casual speech, I was able to hear how the friends talked to each other and gave instruction.

It is a bit regrettable that my time in the taiko group was so short and that I needed to commute far to participate.  It made it difficult to spend enough time with them to really practice my Japanese and get a sense of how they are outside of the taiko circle setting.  That said, I think it was a great insight into how student circles are run in Japan.  For the most part, there are a lot of similarities between Wadaiko DON and Gendo Taiko.  We are both student run groups, we both practice together as a group, and we play many of the same styles.  Further, like Gendo Taiko, many of the Wadaiko DON members started taiko only after entering the circle.  As for differences, Wadaiko DON is about twice the size of Gendo Taiko and, as such, they are able to perform at a much higher potential level.  For each performance, they hold auditions to decide who can participate.

On the whole, I’m very glad that I was able to participate and be accepted into a Japanese university student group, especially one that concerns taiko.  Wadaiko DON performs at a very high level, and I am very thankful to be able to have seen their mainstage performance, participate in regular practice, and perform in the Takase-gawa Sakura Matsuri (pictures and videos below).  The Wadaiko DON members were extremely welcoming and helpful even when I didn’t quickly understand their instruction.  Even though the language barrier made it difficult to interact smoothly with the groups usual happenings, this was a unique experience that could only have happened during my study abroad.  I am especially glad to have participated in the Takase-gawa Sakura Matsuri, during which I was able to see the carrying of the Mikoshi from the perspective of the parade that went down Teramachi-dōri.  It was a unique perspective on Japanese life and the continuation of tradition.

On the day of the Matsuri, the weather was sunny and warm, and the sakura blossoms were just beginning to lose their petals.  As the wind swept through the trees, the petals flew up and floated down gently, breezing in the background of the crowded streets.  Even though it was my first sakura matsuri, I had the feeling that it was a picture perfect representation of what sakura matsuri could be.  People of all ages attended, from the elderly who came to experience the annual matsuri once again to the children who are sure to have made fond memories.  Anyone can participate in the carrying of the mikoshi (“portable shrine”, although its significance is far deeper than the English translation would make it seem) throughout the streets and, within the large group of mikoshi carriers, there was a strong sense of community and participation in tradition.  As the large parade processed through Teramachi-dōri Shōtengai and the narrow streets adjacent to it, onlookers came out to see this once-a-year event.  The spot of the festival, the Former Rissei Elementary School, seems to have been particularly chosen because of its long history.  At the taiko performance, a woman danced among the taiko players.  Although out of the ordinary, it seemed like she and her family had attended the Rissei Elementary School before it was decommissioned and that she was moved to the point of dance by the once-again lively atmosphere of the school.  Instead of letting the building fall into disuse and be forgotten, the matsuri brings life to the location.  Although the Takase-gawa Sakura Matsuri is only in its 38th year, the tradition of matsuri goes far back in Japanese history.  Even though it was my first matsuri, I felt like there was deep significance in the passing of cultural memories through events like this.

I hope to bring these new perspectives on taiko and matsuri back to Gendo Taiko and try to inform the way we put on matsuri in our own communities half-way across the world on the East Coast.

第38回高瀬川桜祭り 神輿

三宅太鼓

Logan Cody: Klexon

For my Community Involvement Project I participated in Klexon – an English conversation club. Every Tuesday I would meet for two hours in the Wings Gender Equality Center with other KCJS members and other native English Speakers living in the city, to talk with Japanese college students and workers in order to help them practice their English speaking abilities. For the first hour of the meetings, I would talk in one-on-one sessions with the Japanese club members – discussing anything from their jobs to their opinions on recent political developments. Then in the second hour, I would talk in groups of five to six people in order to practice group speaking abilities with them. The club would offer prompts and possible topics of conversation, but I found that most of the Japanese participants were happy to elect their own topics of conversation, and usually wanted to discuss broad cultural differences between Japan and the US, or grammatical novelties between Japanese and English. As I became closer friends with different members of the club, I began to join them for food and drinks after the meetings or at Karaoke parties on the weekend.

Through my continuing interactions with the Klexon group, in and out of the weekly meetings, I feel that I was truly able to integrate into, and participate in, Japanese social activities and functions. Furthermore, in helping to teach English to Japanese people I was better able to understand my progress with my own language studies: for example, it seems a lot of the Klexon members use the word “maybe” more often than what would be considered natural in English (eg. “Maybe, my job is working in finance”). My assumption is that this over-usage stems from learners attempting to directly translate certain phrases from their native tongue into their target language – which is probably a mistake that I make as well in my own language studies (ie. trying to convert head-first English phrasing/idioms into Japanese, instead of solely relying on the set head-last grammatical formations of the language). I also found that simply speaking to a large number of Japanese students and workers allowed for many fascinating insights into people’s opinions about food, and clothing, and history, and politics. A particularly interesting example would be my conversations with a member of Japan’s Self-Defense Force: I was able to learn about his daily work, and about how most Japanese citizens look down upon those who join the SDF.

As for my advice to future students, I can’t stress enough how important it is to get a Line! Everyone here uses Line, and it’s just such an easy way to make friends quickly. After a meeting, if you have even the slightest interest in being friends with someone, I’d highly recommend trading Line account information. And then afterwards, even if you don’t text them, the likelihood that they text you and ask to hangout is very high. There’s practically no work involved at all! And getting to meet Japanese people and hang out outside of the CIP activities is such a wonderful opportunity to make friends, to speak more Japanese, and to learn more about Japanese culture and life.

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.

Hai Anh Pham: Kyoto University's Chorus

The emails that I exchanged with the Chorus’s representative gave me an impression that the circle was an all-accepting space where even the non-experienced are welcomed: “Thank you for your interest. We await you at the first practice. And yes, we are thrilled that you are bringing friends. Bring them all, be it 5 or 10 people!!” 

And really, the people were as nice as I had pictured them to be. On the first day, a guy came all the way to where I and Yuki got lost to pick us up. After the first practice was over, we newcomers were put into the spotlight, so all the members could get to know us and sing their welcoming song. Throughout my time with them, I continued to feel the circle’s attempt to create a sense of belonging for all its members: free after-practice meals, weekend gatherings, and the funnest of all, the exaggerated, variety show-like reaction words we always give together when someone is doing an announcement. I wish I had more time to interact and make friends with everyone. My host family was far away from Kyodai, so I couldn’t participate much in the bonding activities that the circle created for its members.

Joining a circle where everyone was welcomed first gave me the assumption that the quality of real practices would be mediocre. I was wrong. Even though the songs we had to sing were really difficult, the conductor, part leaders, and most people really knew what they were doing. Not only that, they went out of their way to guide newbies like me, whether it was the breathing and diaphragm training exercises at the beginning, or the melody, beats, and nuances of each music bar. At first, it was a bit irritating to me, because their over-guidance indicated that they thought I knew absolutely nothing. However, I realized after a while that they were just fulfilling their roles of senpai, to welcome and help and instruct, especially considering my barriers not being a Japanese. And after months of going to the Chorus, although I did not have much opportunities to interact with the members outside of practice, the care that they showed toward me really made me feel like a kouhai myself, that I belonged as part of this Chorus.