私はアーチェリーが大好きなので、日本の文化についてを学び始めた時、弓道に興味を持つようになった。アメリカでも弓道をしてみたかったが、伝統的な日本のスポーツだからあまりなくて、わざわざ探してみたが、できる場所が見つからなかった。ＫＣＪＳに入ってすぐ弓道の場所を見つけた。運よく弓道をし始めたばかりの学生がまだいて、その学生が武道センターの川口先生に紹介してくれた。武道センターというのは色々な武道ができる所だ。例えば弓道を始め、剣道、合気道などのスポーツもできる。
毎週の月曜日と木曜日に練習する。月曜日にはモラレスさんと一緒に武道センターまで歩いて、木曜日にはバスで行く。月曜日にいる人と木曜日にいる人は違うから、皆の名前を覚えることは難しい。アーチェリーに比べると違うことがいろいろあった。弓も仕方も全く違う。始めは見ることだけで学んだが、三、四回後で弓と矢を使い始めた。川口先生と先輩たちはあまり話さないが、時々手の内とか引き方などを正して下さる。毎度平穏でいい気持ちがする。本当に楽しくて面白い。
My CIP was the practice of Urasenke-style Tea Ceremony. I selected tea ceremony because the concentration of my study is Japanese history. A very important aspect of this history, particular the warring states and Edo periods, is tea ceremony. Tea ceremony holds a place, not just in understanding the Samurai class, but also understanding a uniquely Japanese aesthetic. Many of my favorite subjects of historical study, such as Ii Naosuke, were avid practitioners of the tea ceremony and in order to gain a better understand of that history, I have decided to jump in head first. The school is conveniently located several blocks from the Imadegawa subway stop and can be reached after a brisk five-minute walk beginning from the main gates of the Doshisha campus. The classes are taught in a very old machiya with three traditional tatami mat rooms and a small kitchen nestled in the back. The first room is where people leave the belongings while they are in class. They then walk to the back room and take up seats on the edges of the room. Sensei sits at the front of the room, in seiza, facing all of her students, who are also expected to sit in seiza. There were two tea-making stations in this room. Two different set-ups where advanced students would come into the room, lay down their materials, heat the water, and make the tea under the watchful eye of sensei.
I attended class twice per month and each session was two hours long. For the first 30 minutes I would sit in the back room, watching while the advanced students practiced their art. Sensei would choose one of these advanced students to serve me a round of tea and sweets. Then, I would go to one of the other tatami mat rooms with an advanced student who would serve as my assistant teacher and show me the basics of Sado. Thus far, I have learned how to enter the tea room, how to open and close the door, how to walk to my place, how to sit down and stand up, how to fold a cloth, and how to use that cloth to clean a tea caddy. This session takes up the remaining hour and a half of the time. In the future I hope I will get to demonstrate some of these skills for sensei. Before leaving, I am treated to a more informal round of tea and sweets in the front room, where I practice. Sometimes, when there are too many students for the advanced students to serve, someone will go to the kitchen and make tea with a water heater. Finally, we have been taught how to clean tea cups after an informal tea service.
I have really enjoyed my time practicing Sado. As an art, Sado is possessed of a cavernous depth that cannot properly be explored in the time I have. For me, Sado has served as a source of relaxation and focus. Making slow, methodical, precise movements and cementing them in my muscle memory is time consuming, and sometimes frustrating, but each small success is rewarding. It is difficult to retain some of the learned processes, however, because I only attend twice a month. The tea class I attend is so popular that sensei’s schedule only had room for two more monthly sessions. As unfortunate as this is, I feel grateful to have spent as much time there as I did. Sensei and all of her assistants are extraordinarily hospitable and kind.
They have accommodated my bumbling gaijin ways and limited Japanese ability at every turn and provided an excellent environment in which to learn and grow. Not only have I been able to improve my Japanese vocabulary and make new friends, I’ve been able to immerse myself in a crucially important piece of Japanese culture and better understand its place in Japanese history.
So far this semester I’ve participated in more activities than I’ve expected, but I’m more than grateful as one rarely gets the chance to be a part of the Japanese community. The first CIP I chose was volunteering as an English teaching assistant at Kamigyo Middle School. I have considered for quite some time now the option of being a teacher as a career path so this opportunity was definitely one I couldn’t pass up. To my surprise, the first-year middle school students I was set to teach were extremely energetic and pounced at the chance to answer my questions in English. I also received an overwhelming amount of surprised looks when they heard me speak in Japanese, and without fail, I would here 「日本語が上手」. Of course, I responded with the humble phrases I was trained to give in return. I also noticed many of the students’ English conversation skills were pretty focused on set questions such as “Do you like sports?”, “What is your favorite food?”, and “Do you like food?” etc. This made me realize that around this stage of learning English most students’ English has been focused on conversation starter questions or 日常会話.
Also, as the rumor spread that there was an American teaching in one of the classes many of the students on the rest of floor gathered around my teacher and I as I walked through the hallway—it was as if I was a rare species just being discovered. Each student was very shy when speaking to me, but still very excited to learn. In fact, I found their eagerness to learn surprising as I look back at my middle school memories in which students would constantly dodge the teacher’s questions. I also found it very important to encourage (smile and say something like よくできた！) the students whether they answer correctly or not, as it motivates them to try to answer even more English questions. All in all, the students at Kamigyo Middle School have been incredibly endearing and make me excited to volunteer and learn something new every week.
However, since most students are out for the month due to Spring Break, I added the title of CIP to my Wushu (Chinese martial arts) circle. Every Friday I go to Higashiyama to train Wushu with two awesome teachers. One of the sensei claimed the 1995 Wushu World Cup title and is a great teacher! Usually I’m the only participant on Fridays so I’m very lucky to learn one on one. As Wushu is a martial art, respect for each other is definitely emphasized and is expected that students use Keigo with their sensei. Sometimes I feel very relaxed talking to my sensei that I almost forget the formalities altogether. Culturally, I believe respect and 上下 is very important in this type of setting. Also, thanks to my sensei I’ve painfully become more flexible that I ever thought possible!
Finally, I have also started volunteering at Kyoto University’s hospital Nico Toma. Nico Toma has so far been a fun experience that has shown me how much care hospital volunteers put into their work. Although most of the volunteer work has been arts and crafts oriented, every little aspect of our work has gone toward bringing a smile to the kids in the Pediatrics section. However, this week we got to play with one of the kids while we held a bazaar of donated goods and it was extremely fun, although I think I was probably more into the “Breaking the Tower” game then the little boy was. I can’t wait to continue my experience at Nico Toma and hopefully get to meet more kids!
今学期、英語のアシスタントとして、上京中学でバランティアしています。その中学は同志社大学の近くにあるので、毎週金曜日に教えに歩いて行きます。中学生の英語の勉強を手伝えるので、とても嬉しいです。私の教えている学生は一年生であれ、いつも元気で笑っています。初めて上京中学に行った時、先生は学生に私に質問すをるように言って、一人ずつ英語で面白い質問を聞いたのです。「スポーツ好き？」とか、「一番大好きな和食は？」など、そういう質問を聞いたのです。しかし、突然先生が女性の学生とヒソヒソ話して、その学生は私に「Do you have a steady girlfriend?」と聞たので、私はびっくりしました。
そうして、隣の教室の学生は廊下の窓から見ていました。子供が「アメリカ人がいるって」と言っていました。それに対して、私はピースサインで答えて、皆笑っていました。毎週上京中学に行っていますが、一年生はやさしそうで、いつも元気なので、私は嬉しくなります。上京中学では、決してつまらなくないです。実は、いつも教師になりたいかなと考えているので、この経験は私にとって、とても大切なんです。
I’m so glad that I decided to join the KyoDai (short for Kyoto University) Choir. Although I haven’t been able to participate as much as I may have liked, whenever I am able to go to practice I am welcomed and treated as a true member of the group. Though we practice in large numbers, I became closest with my fellow sopranos. I would often receive text messages from them during periods when we wouldn’t see each other often, and I remember being very gratified that I was able to tag-team joke with one of the other girls. I think it is safe to say that it was through my friendships with the members of the choir – and possibly my part-time job – that I felt most a part of the Japanese society while here in Kyoto.
Beyond the obvious friendships and interactions with the group, I found several aspects of the club dynamic and activities that surprised me. As a foreigner studying Japanese, I have spent a great deal of time learning about how Japanese rules of social hierarchy and seniority play out linguistically. My time with the KyoDai Choir has taught me that such ‘rules’ are ultimately guidelines. They would be 100% accurate inside of a ‘linguistic vacuum.’ The reality is that each group, and each individual within that group, contributes to the creation of a unique group dynamic. Similarly, each individual uses a complex and only sometimes intentional mix of many levels of formality in everyday interactions. For example, each member of the choir has a nickname. Some of these nicknames have nothing whatsoever to do with the person’s actual name, which meant that I had (and still have) a hard time remembering them and keeping them strait. These nicknames are used by all members of the group regardless of seniority. In Japanese I have heard two different expressions to refer to language in practice. These are “raw,” and “living.” Choir was one of my main places that I was exposed to, and involved in the speaking of “living Japanese.”
The other thing that surprised me was the system by which the new club officers were chosen. One afternoon, I was invited to have an early dinner with the member of my voice part before practice, during which the newly appointed part leaders would speak to their wishes and goals for the year to come. It was nothing like I expected. It was very formal. Each of the girls – Koude-chan and Mika-chan – had prepared lengthy speeches. They talked about how they became involved in choir, what they liked about it, why they wanted to be part leader, what skills they brought to the group, and what things they hoped to accomplish. The surprising part was that we, as members of the soprano section, were then invited to ask them questions. It was as if we were interviewing them. At the end, we even took a vote, during which we had the option to object to their leadership. I didn’t realize just how foreign the whole concept was to me until I was prompted to ask a question of the girls – I had no idea what to ask. The girls were voted in unanimously, but it seems that this is not always the case. It is not that we don’t have a similar system for electing part leaders in the US (typically it’s by vote or merit), it was just the formality and the possibility of rejection that surprised me. I can’t say that I came away with a particular lesson, more that it was an unexpected learning experience for me.
I will remember my time with the choir fondly and make the most of my final weeks here with them. I hope someday we’ll meet again.
While establishing a CIP and forging connections can prove a daunting and sometimes discouraging process, I found it to be an ultimately invaluable part of my time at KCJS and my life here in Kyoto.
My first CIP, which I have continued both semesters here, is learning how to play the koto (A traditional Japanese string instrument with moveable bridges) and it was through what I suspect to be a combination of serendipity and extreme thoughtfulness on behalf of the KCJS staff that I was placed in a homestay which made these lessons possible. My host mother had studied the koto for quite some time and was kind enough to introduce me to her sensei, who has been generous enough to teach me free of cost for the for the past eight months. This connection made my CIP search easier than most, as I had long admired the instrument and had vague hopes of learning to play it while in Japan. Their long-established relationship made the introduction process very easy, and it wasn’t until I undertook the task of introducing another student that I began to more fully understand the complexity and cultural context surrounding such arrangements. Because all parties involved lived in the same neighborhood, special care had to be taken in regard to kinjo no tsukiai (neighborhood relations) between my teacher, the host families, the students, and all combinations thereof. What I suspect might have taken two or three phone calls in the US took over fifteen phone calls and some rather complex social maneuvering and face redress strategies so that no party felt disregarded – no small task when it comes to the finer points of Japanese joshiki (common sense, if you will) and etiquette.
My subsequent interactions with my sensei and her other students always left me a bit flustered as I could never be sure I was properly adhering to these unstated (and, as a foreigner, rather opaque) social codes, but they were sensitive to my situation and my language skills helped carry me through reasonably well.
My sensei is a true bohemian and has that slightly eccentric flare I personally associate with masters of traditional crafts and art forms – a trait I’ve come to find very endearing, though it certainly threw me at first. She has a very flowery way of speaking that utilizes an impressive range of keigo (formal speech) and Kyoto-ben (the local dialect) which, while I had no trouble understanding linguistically often surprised me in usage. For example, though I am the student and much younger, she often uses formal speech towards me, that is to say, the sort of language I would be expected to use towards her. However, I quickly came to realize this is more a reflection of her personality than misinformation on my part in regard to the way formal language is used in a real-life context.
The sequence of aisatsu (salutations) took a while for me to grasp. One might think, ‘how many salutations can one possibly use?’ but Japanese salutations are not limited to words of greeting. Also included are acknowledgements of the previous meeting, a request for guidance in the day’s lesson, a promise to work hard, and any number of repetitions and reiterations thereof based on my sensei’s responses (which, in accordance with her speech style, were rather numerous). Another repetitive sequence also concludes the lesson.
Also of interest was the occasional use of the greeting ‘good morning’ despite the fact that my lessons have always taken place in late afternoon. This is something not usually taught in Japanese textbooks, and is apparently not even common knowledge among Japanese until about college age, but the greeting ‘good morning’ can be used the first time you see someone in certain contexts (at part time jobs, in the world of the arts, etc.) regardless of time-of-day.
Of course, I also learned quite a few pieces of music, including two of Japan’s most well known songs, and had the opportunity to perform on numerous occasions, but what remains with me was the time I spent with my sensei and the extreme care and kindness she showed me. It was my first time interacting with a Japanese person of her age and occupation, and I believe it gave me valuable insight into the inner workings of Japanese relationships on the whole, despite her undeniable uniqueness. I will remember the time I spent under her tutelage quite fondly and, with any luck, will have the opportunity to make use of what I have learned in the near future.
My second CIP I began only this past semester, but while it was also music-related, it gave me a very different insight into Japanese society, and Japanese college life in particular. Natasha helped introduce me to the KyoDai Gasshodan (Kyoto University Choir) and from day one they welcomed me as a real member. Because our school schedule operates on a different calendar from that of Japanese universities, it is understandably difficult for us to truly experience campus life here the way we would in the US. I never really felt like a student at Doushisha (or Kyoto Daigaku) until I had the chance to sing with them. For the first time I thought “so this is what it must be like to be a ‘regular’ student.” That feeling of belonging was invaluable, and I will treasure the time I spent with them and the memories we made. I know how difficult it can be to get involved in a campus club or circle, but if you can make it work, it’s more than worth it.
For my CIP, I went to a Go Center in Karasuma. Go is an ancient Japanese strategy game that I’ve been playing for several years in America. Since learning, I had always wanted to be able to play Go in Japan, so I was very excited to finally get the opportunity to do so.
The first time I went into the club, located above a convenience store, I was overwhelmed. The two rooms were filled with older men and a few women hunched over Go boards, and there was hardly any sound but the clack of glass Go stones against the wooden boards. I introduced myself to the woman who was running the club, and she quickly found me an opponent to play. Everyone looked very surprised to see me there; it was clear very few foreigners ever came to the club. Luckily, all the members were welcoming from the beginning, asking where I came from and how long I had been playing.
As time went on I got to know some of the club’s regulars, and could ask them for games without waiting for the hostess to pair us up. Often after playing we would review the game together, but their mumbled kansai-ben often proved challenging to decipher. With time I got used to their idiosyncratic speech, and soon become able to converse more smoothly with some of the members.
The moment that most made me feel like I was accepted occurred a month or two into my stay. While I was waiting for a game, one of the men I often played with came up to me with a book in his hand. He bowed and presented it to me, saying that he thought it would help my studies in Go. It was a book of Go problems, and when I opened it I found a handwritten note from the man. It had been painstakingly written in English, and said “David san, I hope you will be the champion of your country.” After I read it and thanked him, the man self-consciously asked if I could understand his written English. I assured him I could and put the book in my bag. I left the Go center that day knowing that I had found a place where if I pushed myself to reach across the language barrier, I would be met halfway.
私は、先学期と一緒、井元先生の元でお琴を習っています。そして、今学期から京都大学の合唱団にも入っている。どちらも音楽に関しているのに、色々と違うものを経験させてくれてます。
お琴には生田流と山田流の二つの主な筝曲の流儀がありますが、井元先生が教えて下さっているのは生田流です。
お琴を弾く時、親指(1)・人差し指(2)・中指(3) の三つの指に「爪」と言うギター・ピックのような物をはめて、絃を爪弾きます。二つの流儀の第一違いはこの爪の形なのです。私が習っている生田流では、爪が四角い爪で、山田流のは丸い爪です。もう一つの違いは、山田流では、お琴に対して真っ直ぐに座って弾くものの、生田流では斜めに座るのです。
お琴には十三の絃があるのですが、自分から一番遠い絃から順番に一から十三まで数えます。けれども、お琴の楽譜は音符の代わりに漢字の数字で書いてあるため、二つの字を使う「十一」「十二」「十三」の絃は別名で呼ばれるようになりました。十一本の糸は「斗(ト)」と呼んで、十二本のは「為(イ)」で、十三本のは「巾(キン)」となっています。
お琴を習うとともに、日本の芸術に関する文化のことも、日本の常識についても、少しづつ習って来ている感じがします。師匠との正しい接し方、身でものを覚えること、近所の付き合い、そして勿論、日本の伝統的な音楽などを徐々に学んで来てます。
一方で、京大の合唱団は一応大学のサークルだし、皆が大体私と同じ歳なので、団内の人間関係はお琴の場合とは随分違います。合唱団の皆さんは勿論私の先輩ですが、仲間として受け入れてくれた日から、私の事を本物のソプラノのメンバーの一員として扱ってくれてます。敬語の代わりにくだけた話し方を使いますし、練習中でも、その外でも、友達同士が音楽を楽しむために集まっている感じがします。
習っている音楽も練習の行い方も随分違うんですけど、やっぱり一番異なっている点は人間関係だと思います。どちらの場合も得点があると思いますし、どちらも同時に経験できることが本当に有難く思ってます。
今学期は京都大学の合唱団に参加させて頂いてます。先学期はアカペラのサークルに入ろうとしたんですが、バンドのメンバーがなかなか纏らないまま学期が終わってしまった為、今学期は合唱団に入ることにしました。京大の合唱団は全体的に混声の合唱でありながら、実際に男性も女性も混ぜた練習は週に一回しか行われません。女性の場合、練習は週に二回行われ、水曜日が混声練習で、金曜日が女声練習です。混声でやる曲と女声でやる曲はそれぞれに違う為、色々な曲が歌えるので私は結構好きです。
練習は夕方の6:15から行われますが、ほとんどのメンバー達は少し早めに来て、色々話をしたり、歌ったりします。女声の日でも、男性も同じ建物で練習するので、練習の一番初めに歌う「愛唱曲」は普段男女揃って歌っています。「愛唱曲」を歌ってから、パートに分かれて体操をします（因みに私はソプラノです）。体操は結構徹底したもので、最初はちょっとびっくりしました。体操の後は声のウォームアップで、それが終わってからやっと正式な練習に入ります。練習の途中でパートから全メンバーで練習するのに変わり、パートずつで新しく習ったところを合わせて歌います。練習が一段落してから、お知らせや発表などをしたり、ボックスを掃除したりします。その後もまた「愛唱曲」を歌います。練習は正式には8:15に終わることになっていますが、実際には9:30まで続くことが多いです。
メンバーが全員本当にいい人達で、すぐ受けてくれたことが非常に嬉しかったです。練習の流れで私の知らない日本語が出て来るたびに親切に説明してくれるし、練習以外に色々なイベントに誘ってくれたりもします。今練習している曲の発表会が私が帰国する数日後の為、一緒に歌えないけど、とにかく、私は皆さんと練習できて嬉しいです。残りの二ヶ月間、京大合唱団のメンバーとして全力を尽くします！
ぼくのCIPは囲碁を打つことだ。囲碁というのは伝統的な日本のゲームだ。中国から来たが、日本でも人気だ。僕は三年前、アメリカで習った。打ち始めた時から、いつか日本で打ちたいと思っていた。アメリカで囲碁はそんなに人気じゃないから、日本に早く来たかった。しかし、今は春休みだから、大学のサークルはあまり活動ない。
運良く、京都の囲碁サロンは活動があった。からすまおいけに近いサロンに時々行く。毎週一回７００円払って、サロンに入る。大半はお年寄りだが、いつも僕にやさしい。僕は若い外国人だから、いつもじろじろ見られる。でも、同志社の大学生もいて、友達になった。
囲碁を打つ時に、相手の年は重要じゃない。石を打つと、相手の性格が見える。終わったら、相手と試合について話すことは普通で、相手の日本語が分からないときも時々あるが、それほど困らない。
サロンには普通の人以外に、プロもいる。ちょっと高いが、プロと打つと、早く強くなる。あるプロと打ったことがある。とても強くて、その先生の忠告はとても役に立つ。囲碁の打ち方を習う以外に、打ち終わったらその先生と試合を勉強することは僕の日本語の勉強にもなっている。