Volunteering as Bazaar Cafe was a rewarding experience that allowed me to practice my Japanese, meet people, and get a glimpse of a Japanese working environment. As an attempt to integrate into a corner of Japanese society, it proved to be both fulfilling and challenging.

Bazaar Cafe is a small cafe situated in the back of a house, only a short walk from campus. The visitor passes through the side of the house into the backyard, where the cafe opens out into a garden. Becoming a volunteer was as simple as showing up one day with a friend who had already been volunteering. The work I have been doing during my weekly visits hasn’t been very rigorous, involving, essentially, translating the menu, washing dishes, and putting things in their proper place.

What I would soon find was that the atmosphere of Bazaar Cafe was extremely relaxed and casual. I only arrived at this opportunity after trying and failing to get another, at a non-profit. Whereas applying to a Japanese company had required communications in keigo and a resume in accordance with regulations, Bazaar Cafe has allowed me to experience a very different kind of Japanese-language environment. I quickly found that my use of polite (desu-masu) form was excessively formal. Having absorbed strict rules of politeness and discretion through Japanese language class, I now had to learn how to communicate in this casual environment.

While I am usually working in the back of the cafe, a recent evening of performance art brought me into contact with the customers, as I collected used cups and answered questions about the night’s performances. As most volunteers were not in attendance, it was only me, the owner, and two other employees. At the end of the performances, the organizer took a moment to thank the cafe for releasing the space, and I naturally bowed with the rest of the employees and spoke a few words about how interesting it had been. It was during this evening that I felt most integrated into the Bazaar workplace environment, and like a member of Bazaar Cafe.

I would therefore encourage students to look for a CIP not only based on the type of work, but also the environment. Although the non-profit I had initially applied to aligned more closely with my interests, the loose environment of Bazaar Cafe was ultimately a better fit and more fulfilling, even if washing dishes sounds less than exciting. Applying to the non-profit, while ultimately not successful, was also a highly instructive experience in communicating with potential employers in Japanese, and I would encourage others not to be discouraged by the idea of reaching out for opportunities in Japanese. Overall, Bazaar Cafe has been an unforgettable part of my study abroad experience.

I had the opportunity this semester work Kyoto National Museum to fulfill my CIP requirement. As my focus within my East Asian Languages and Cultures program is art history, this was  a dream come true. I would get to work not only with the objects I had spent countless hours looking at in books and behind plexiglass cases, but at the same time I would get to use my Japanese in a professional environment. This kind of opportunity, though, naturally came with a lot of pressure: as I hope to enter museum work eventually as a professional, my coworkers and bosses weren’t just people I would be working with for the semester, but people I’d be in contact with for the rest of my career.

The CIP isn’t just an opportunity to apply Japanese in real life, but also to engage in real-time cultural learning. For me, this started right away. My entry into the museum in the capacity of volunteer research assistant and translator was a bit unprecedented—all kinds of people volunteer at the Museum, and many art history graduate students help with research and curatorial initiatives, but as an undergraduate in a non-Japanese degree program, I was not the most obvious candidate to help out the curatorial board. A lot of negotiating had to be done to get me in, and so on my arrival, my acquaintance at the Museum then helped me do the jikoshoukai and thank to the appropriate people—except that the appropriate people meant everyone who worked in the curatorial office. This surprised me; the idea of the jikoshoukai certainly doesn’t have an exact counterpart in English-language cultures, but the formality of the self-introduction aside, you would certainly never introduce yourself to so many people at the same time in an American office. I nervously moushimasu’d and yoroshiku onegaiitashimasu’d so many times on the first day that by the end I could hardly say the words correctly any more. This was my first indication that in the Japanese office environment, no matter how compartmentalized individual tasks may be, the whole office has significant input and participation in pretty much every aspect of operations, and because of that everyone is expected to be able to interact with everyone else from the get-go.

I hit the ground running: there was much to be translated. I was allowed to work on a variety of projects, starting with object labels from the Museum’s permanent collection which were out on frequent rotation, progressing through the special Hinamatsuri exhibition, instructional and didactic sheets for upcoming family workshops, and ultimately editing the audioguide script and translating articles for the monthly KNM newsletter and labels for the special Kaiho Yusho exhibition. I also learned the layout of the museum, and got to assist in a special showing of the Yamai no Soushi for visiting scholars. Such diverse projects exposed me to so many different aspects of the office culture. Of course, as a museum is a bit of a unique shokuba, I can’t imagine that this sort of office culture is applicable everywhere, but it felt great to begin to get a handle on what it feels like to be a member of Japanese working society.

The most interesting thing about the experience, in terms of cultural learning, was the snacks. At various jobs and internships I’ve held in the US, there’s usually a kitchen somewhere, with a pot of stale coffee on the counter and someone’s leftovers in the refrigerator. However, this was not the case here whatsoever. My desk, part of the education department’s section, sat right across from the designated snack table. Edible meibutsu are a big part of Japanese omiyage and otherwise gift-giving culture; whenever somebody would come from outside the museum for any sort of business meeting or special viewing, some sort of fancily wrapped okashi would undoubtedly accompany them, regardless of their relation to the museum. After being humbly accepted, the snacks would then be passed around to the people who had the most direct relation to the meeting or showing, then be set out on the snack table for anyone to enjoy. Museum staff who went on vacation or business trips would similarly bring back snacks for the office, distributed in a similar fashion.

I had a discussion with one of the curators about this snacking culture. I expressed the genuine surprise I had felt when I received my first wagashi, a manju from Tokyo given by a visiting scholar, after helping with an object showing. She laughed and asked if this sort of gift giving was not standard in America—my response couldn’t have been a vehement enough “no.” If this happened to anyone in a professional environment in the US (myself included) I would be immediately be suspicious that the person giving the gifts wanted some sort of favor for me. As “yoroshiku onegaishimasu” implies, this sort of gift giving in Japan does presume to elicit a favor in a vague sense—that of continued good relations—but not in the way I’d infer in an English-speaking environment.

The learning experiences, both academic and cultural, afforded to me at the Museum have been invaluable, and they are memories of satisfying work and enjoyable conversation that I will cherish for a long time. To anyone considering this sort of formal work environment for their own CIP, I can only advise to not hesitate and to jump in straightaway. Initially, because of the perceived culture and language barrier, it can be a bit difficult to prove your own merit, but once you situate yourself, the dedication to work is inspiring, and it’s a great feeling to be included in such dedicated pursuits.

For my CIP, I am volunteering at the Kyoto International Manga Museum once a week. The museum has over 300,000 items in its collection of manga volumes and magazines and guests spend hours pouring over their favorite series or finding new ones. Despite the museum feeling more like a library than like an actual museum, it does have permanent exhibitions on display and has special exhibitions and events every few months.

KCJS’s contact at the museum, Watanabe-san, is one of the sweetest people I’ve met while in Japan. She helped me feel much more comfortable about my role at the museum from my first shift. On my first day, she gave me the official tour and introduced me to most of the museum staff. Although I had mentally prepared myself to do self-introduction after self-introduction, Watanabe-san actually ended up doing my self-introduction for me, telling staff members, my name, home institution, what I was currently studying at Doshisha, and in one case, even my favorite food (our initial conversation had been very extensive). At the time, I was both kind of relieved and kind of put out. My Japanese may be shaky, but I can do at least a self-introduction, I thought. But when I mentioned this in Japanese class recently, it was pointed out that maybe that was Watanabe-san’s way of both helping calm my first-day jitters and taking responsibility for me as someone who would be working under her.

As for what I actually do at the museum, it varies from menial tasks like making plastic covers for manga volumes to writing a script for an English tour to going through the special galleries and writing my thoughts on them. Some days are more exciting than others, like when I was told to go look at all the exhibits of the Kyoto Seika University Manga Faculty Graduation Showcase and talk to the Seika students. Others are slow, spent cutting plastic and outfitting volumes in it. But I am really glad I chose to volunteer here. While it is a bit difficult to get to know the staff members as my break is at a different time than theirs, becoming a part of the Manga Museum community is definitely doable if you put in the effort. There’s usually one person on their lunch break at the same time I have my break and I’ve chatted with a couple of staff members after running into them in the hallway. Recently I started helping out at the front desk and between greeting customers, I had a fun conversation about my time in Japan and favorite manga with Tsuchida-san, one of the front desk staff.

Overall, I’ve had fun while volunteering at the Manga Museum. While I wouldn’t recommend it if you’re looking for something more social, the museum is definitely a great place to have as a CIP.

I never thought choosing a CIP activity would be a difficult task. From the moment I finished reading the CIP section of the KCJS website, my mind was set on teaching English. Since I have been teaching language classes as a hobby from middle school to college, I decided to continue my passion in Japan with the KCJS program and began to volunteer as an English tutor at a local middle school. When I started my CIP, just entering the school for the first time to introduce myself was an adventure in itself; from taking my shoes off and putting slippers on, to seeing children cleaning up their own school after classes were over, this experience allowed me to learn so much about Japanese culture.

To my surprise, teaching English to Japanese students was nothing like I expected it to be. First of all, I imagined myself assisting an English teacher and her students in the middle of class. Instead, I was asked to tutor students individually, a much more personal way of teaching that I was not familiar with, since I had been used to teaching a big group of students. When we first met, the students were just as nervous as I was, but after a couple of questions, and as I tried to be as friendly and carefree as possible, I was able to create a more relaxing environment and made sure the students understood that it was alright to make mistakes. Even though I had originally thought that teaching English would be an easy task for me, I was surprised at how difficult it actually was, both for me and my students. There was always some miscommunication, and the hardest part was making sure the students understood the way I translated some English words and grammar to them. The student and teacher interaction also gave me more insight on Japanese culture; I found it curious that, even though I tried to act more as a friend and student to them, all the students still treated me with a lot of respect and politeness, as if they were speaking to their middle school teachers. In the end, tutoring English was just as much of a learning experience for me as for my students. Every week, I would try to alter my teaching methods and find better ways of helping my students. For instance, instead of merely explaining certain words and grammar out loud in English, I would write them down on a paper and ask the students to read and repeat. This unique experience in Japan gave me a new perspective on teaching, especially since I am contemplating the possibility of becoming a language teacher in the future.

My tutoring classes unfortunately only lasted two weeks, and I was very sad to find out that the school would not be needing my help anymore, especially since the semester was already finishing by the time I started to volunteer. I then began a second CIP activity: volunteering at Bazaar café, a café located across the street from Doshisha University. Since I had always wanted to work at a café or restaurant back home, but never found the time or the opportunity to do so, and since I also preferred a more individual activity instead of joining a club, Bazaar café was the perfect opportunity for me. So far, my experience at Bazaar café has been phenomenal. Not only have I been learning so much about how to run a café, but I have also been practicing my Japanese as I interact with the friendly staff and make new friends.

This semester I volunteered once a week for the after-school children’s program at the Kyoto YWCA. For most of the semester the same two kids came every Monday, an 11-year-old girl and 10-year-old boy. It felt more like babysitting than an organized program, as usually I was alone with the two and we spent the time freely chatting, playing with toys, eating snack, and doing homework. The last week there was a more structured, all-day camp during spring vacation, with 15 elementary school kids and 5 other college-aged volunteers, which offered a chance to interact with more children and other volunteers in a more organized environment.

Through weekly volunteering I really got to know the usual girl and boy, and see how my relationships with each compared to each other and evolved over the course of the semester. Though a bit hesitant at first, they both became fairly comfortable with me as a foreigner, but the girl much more so than the boy. The first day we met she was doubtful, and asked the program director if I even understood Japanese. The program director told her to talk to me and find out, and from there her impressions quickly improved. After a few minutes of conversation she decided I understand quite a lot of Japanese, and after asking me if I can read and write hiragana and some basic kanji she decided that I’m not so different from a Japanese person. That was a flattering overstatement. From then on we spent the majority of the time each day talking about school, what we like to eat, etc. She asked some funny questions about life in America, like whether people learn multiplication, if English is the only language used in the subway, and whether the four cardinal directions exist (I taught her the words in English, which she remembered from then on and would practice every week). She was very open to talking with me, and I think she had fun sharing stories and helping me understand her Japanese. She spoke very clearly, and after saying a word she thought I might not understand, she asked and tried to explain if I didn’t. Sometimes she would give up and tell me to use my dictionary, but some words like “alarm clock” or “snore” she could explain by making sounds and doing impressions. She also purposely avoided Kansai-ben, until asking me one day if I understood it. When I said I did understand some, she decided she’d try to use it with me from then on. I think her consideration for my Japanese abilities made conversation more productive and also more fun for both of us. The boy, though about the same age, had a fast, mumbling manner of speaking that was much harder for me to understand, and he made no concessions for my benefit. Because it was hard to engage in conversation he didn’t talk to me as much, but we became closer once I proved a decent dodgeball partner. He was more comfortable doing physical activities with me than just chatting. Though he warmed up to me, one of the last days when his mom came to pick him up she complimented my Japanese, and he quickly corrected her by saying that actually there’s a lot of Japanese I don’t understand. Though both were relatively open to me despite my being American, when communication challenges arose, the girl was much more able and interested to identify and solve them, while the boy just moved on without any effort to improve our mutual understanding. Though talking to them both was good practice, it was interesting to compare how my relationships with the two differed as a result.

During the spring vacation camp I was able to interact with many more kids, but I didn’t get to know any as well. Most of the camp children were a bit younger than the usual girl and boy; the average age was around 8. As a result, they seemed less aware of my being different or not understanding Japanese perfectly. Even at times when their speech was too fast or slurred for me to fully understand, they generally seemed content for me just to listen and respond as best as I could. Being younger, they were also more interested in being active and playing games, so if I jumped around, helped with puzzles, and made funny faces and an occasional joke, that was more entertaining than sitting around talking anyway. Since most weeks I was alone with the two kids, the camp was also a chance for me to see how other college-aged volunteers interacted with the children. Despite being a fairly structured program with a set schedule, the program director largely left the volunteers in charge alone, and I was a bit surprised by how little authority they showed. Organized activities quickly devolved into running, screaming, and games of questionable safety, but for whatever reason the other volunteers just smiled and let themselves get pulled around without making an effort to control the situation. Though I at times felt inferior because of my own lack of ability to communicate effectively to the children in Japanese, I appreciated that both the kids and other staff treated me the same as everyone else. In particular I appreciated the program director’s attitude towards me; both in a group meeting following camp and after I volunteered each week, she asked and valued my thoughts about the day. She also asked me to contribute ideas for camp activities ahead of time, and from the very beginning of the semester trusted me to take charge of the day’s activities and manage the program room.  Other staff members and volunteers were similarly friendly and trusting, as were the children’s parents, who always made a point to thank me. I really came to feel like a valued member of the YWCA community, equal to any other volunteer.

Overall I found volunteering at the YWCA to be a very successful and gratifying CIP experience. Perhaps due to the organization’s missions to support both Japanese and foreign women, everyone I encountered was accepting and understanding, and despite never meeting another American, I never felt out of place. The nature of the work didn’t require a very high level of Japanese, but it did offer ample opportunities to practice with people of all ages.  I also love spending time with kids, so volunteering was a chance not only to learn, but also to just have fun for a few hours every week. I am grateful to all at the YWCA!

今学期、京都YWCAの子供のプログラムでボランティアをしています。YWCAは世界中の団体で、京都分団は日本人と外国人の女性のために色々なプログラムや支援を行っています。子供のプログラムというのは、働いている母親の子供が学校の終わりから夜まで来るところです。私は子供のキャンプやプログラムで楽しくボランテアをした経験があったし、女子大の学生としてYWCAの女性に対する活動に興味があるから、このようなCIPを探して、決めました。

毎週月曜日に３時から６時まで行きますが、YWCAは御所の隣にあるので同志社から歩けます。月曜日には１１歳の女の子と１０歳の男の子が来ていて、その二人の子供と一緒に遊びます。宿題をした後で、お菓子を食べて、話したり、おもちゃで遊んだり、本を読んだり、絵を描いたりします。私にとって日本語を練習するいい機会で、日本の子供の生活や教育についてたくさん学んでいます。そして、子供にアメリカの文化と英語がちょっと教えられます。男の子とはまだ知り合い程度ですが、女の子とは仲が良くなっています。今学期三人で楽しく勉強することができると思います。

I’ve long been interested in theater and am actively involved through campus groups and internships at home, so when I arrived in Kyoto I immediately sought out an opportunity to be involved in the performing arts here. Kyoto Experiment stood out to me for its contemporary, international focus, and I was grateful that they took me on as an intern based on past experience and my first Japanese resume and interview.

In New York I interned in an American performing arts department that used Japanese as a second language, so it was really fascinating to intern here for a Japanese performing arts department that used English as a second language. The goals and activities of the organization were similar, so I could generally infer what was going on, but I was constantly left wishing that I had a more thorough understanding of what everyone around me was doing. Unfortunately I struggled to balance my desire to ask questions and have conversations with the understanding that this was a professional work environment where I didn’t want to be a distraction or nuisance.

One of my primary activities was translating between English and Japanese for the website, artist submissions, emails, etc. The dictionary was my best friend, and at times I ended up having to translate poorly-written English profiles of dance performances inspired by cannibalism to Japanese, but overall it was great practice and a useful learning experience. Generally the staff had positive feedback towards my work, but an interesting dynamic emerged concerning their desire to constantly check and edit my English, even though their knowledge of English was not strong (despite this being an international festival with almost all information bilingual, I failed to ever find someone on the staff who was really fluent in English and responsible for other translations). At times there would be opportunities for a back-and-forth where they could edit my content and I could brush up the language, but in other cases I wasn’t consulted, and later found my translations edited for the worse. However, I wasn’t surprised by my superiors’ constant desire to review every detail, and I observed that it applied not only to me but to senpai/kohai interactions across the staff. In the end I am proud to have some of my translations (only slightly edited) published on their website.

I would have liked more opportunities for conversation and interaction during my time at CIP, but unfortunately the office was usually quiet and oriented towards independent work, especially after the festival performances ended in late October. I was able to learn a bit about Japanese office culture, particularly linguistic variations depending on position and age. For example, I was able to observe different greetings when someone enters the office and thanks when someone leaves, and the difference between my supervisor’s in-group language (occasionally tending to be more informal towards kohai, especially in chatting situations) and the very formal language she used towards outside parties in phone conversations. I was also able to observe interactions between staff members and patrons at performances, which I found more polite than in the U.S., and had the authentic experience of saying いらっしゃいませ hundreds of times.

All in all the setup of my CIP did not lend itself to many opportunities for ethnography, and I wish that my Japanese language skills had allowed for a more fruitful experience, but I think interning for Kyoto Experiment was a great opportunity to be involved here in Japan in a field that I’m passionate about. I am thankful to have met a community of people with similar interests, for the challenging but rewarding work translating, to have seen (for free) some crazy performances, and to have gained professional experience and connections related to intercultural arts that will hopefully benefit me in the future.

私はCIP として KYOTO EXPERIMENT 京都国際舞台芸術祭でボランティアをしています。演劇に興味があって、舞台芸術部で働いた経験あるから、演劇に関する活動を探して、KYOTO EXPERIMENT を見つけました。９月２７日から１０月１９日にかけて、世界中から来たとても近代的で、斬新奇抜な芝居とダンスのプログラムが十、行われました。また、講義やワークショップや美術展や催しというように色々な付随のイベントも行われました。

パフォーマンスは京都中で行われましたが、KYOTO EXPERIMENT の事務所は京都芸術センターにあります。フェスティバル中に一週間に二回ぐらいそこに行って、ボランティアをしました。日によって活動が違いましたが、普通ホームページを日本語から英語に翻訳したり、パフォーマンスで表方として働いたり、パフォーマンスを見たり、事務的なことをしたりしました。フェスティバルが終わったばかりなので、これからは一週間に一回ボランティアに行って、活動もちょっと変わります。フェスティバルのパフォーマンスの期間は一か月だけですが、一年中そのための準備をしているから、今から新しい経験ができるのを楽しみにしています。