When I first began searching for a study abroad program in Japan, I already knew that I would like to try kyudo. I did not really think that I already liked kyudo, I just have an intense interest in archery no matter its form. I was mostly interested in how kyudo and archery compared to each other. More so than any other type of archery, kyudo has a unique asymmetrical bow and accompanying form. I wondered how the equipment affected practice and how the people who practiced it viewed it. As a result, doing it as a CIP in which I had to go and speak with people in Japanese seemed perfect as it combined language and cultural learning with something I already had a interest in. Kawaguchi-sensei of the Budo Center seemed perfectly happy to take me on as a student, and I really appreciate her putting up with me and my terrible Japanese. Although the other teachers and older member of the dojo spoke with me from time to time and offered some advice, Kyudo is primarily about individual practice. While I am used to practicing archery completely alone, I was a little surprised by the fact that even as a beginner, the teacher does not really help after showing you the proper form. Unlike western archery, the focus on kyudo is on improving yourself rather than your aim and, rather ironically, proper form is actually more important than in western archery. In archery, if you hit the bulls-eye every time, your form is good regardless of how “proper” it is, but in kyudo, you improve yourself through proper form and as an added benefit your aim will also improve. Unfortunately, I had some trouble getting into actually practicing kyudo because everything from the equipment to the stance to the way the bow is held is completely, if subtly, different. I felt frustrated by the teacher’s lack of involvement with the students because I did not just have to learn kyudo, I had to unlearn archery. Perhaps if I was going to be in Japan for a full year or more, I would have gone to kyudo as often as possible and really got a feel for it. But I feel I bit off more than I could chew, trying to learn an art that takes a lifetime to master in one semester, two days a week. Despite those feelings though, I really enjoyed my time at the dojo. Although people who prefer competitive archery may not understand the spiritual element of kyudo, as someone who practices archery for the fun of it, I really felt a connection between western archery and kyudo. The form it takes may be different, but I feel people who truly enjoy archery whether it be western or kyudo, understand how important patience and diligence is in both archery and life. I hope people across the world can continue to forge connections when they are similar and learn from each other when they differ. I hope can give kyudo another try one day and can give it the time and care it deserves.
「Cornell University」カテゴリーアーカイブ
マルコム・マッキニー：同志社グリークラブ
一年前に，コーネル大学で、グリークラブに入った。アメリカの人気があるドラマの「glee」と混同しないように、グリークラブというのは、伝統がある男声合唱団だ。クラシック音楽に限らず，シーシャンティーや、大学の歌や，海外の音楽も演奏する。アメリカでは，絶対に忘れられない友達を作ったり，素晴らしい音楽演奏をしたりしたので、日本でも，同じ結果になるだろうかと思案し，同志社で、グリークラブを続けることにした。
僕が初めて行った練習は、とても面白かった。誰かがお知らせをするなり、皆が大きな声で、「した」と叫んだのを初めて聞いた時は，びっくりした。「した」というのは、「ありがとうございました」や「お疲れ様でした」が最後のモーラに，短くなったものだ。グリークラブの外の人に「した」を使っても，通じないらしい。滑稽だと言っても、日本の内輪のグループで使う独特な表現はアメリカのに比べて，全然違うと思う。
卒団生のためのフェアウェルコンサートが近づいてきたから、「蛍の光」と「You’ll Never Walk Alone」という簡単な曲しか完璧にはしなかった。すごく忙しかったから，何回も，同じ曲を練習した。それで精神的に疲れたのは言うまでのないが、グリークラブの部員の皆が日本人らしく、一生懸命歌っていたから、僕も精一杯頑張ってみせた。
「You’ll Never Walk Alone」を練習しながら，日本人には，英語の発音が難しいということに気がついた。母音と子音の言い方に加えて、自然な息の取り方と二重母音の区別のし方は、英語のネイティブスピーカーも、間違いがちで，全然易しいことではない。英語の歌にひきかえ、日本語のは，母音の言い方が同じなので、たくさん協同の努力をせずに、美しく，聞きやすくなると思う。
3時間経過した後に，練習が終わり，三回生が三山木という和食屋で晩ご飯を食べに行くのに誘ってくれた。しかし、食事をする前に，卒業生のための秘密の歌を練習しなければならないと言われた。驚いたことに，その秘密の歌は、コーネルのコンサルトでも、熱唱された「What Shall We Do with a Drunken Sailor」だ。本当に懐かしかった。その歌をよく知っていたから，発音や，音程や，テンポをアメリカでしたように提案できた。感動的なフェアウェルコンサートの後で，卒業生のために、三回生が歌ったら，上達したことが見せられるに違いなく、僕も嬉しくなった。
これまで，練習は一回だけだったが、友人を作るために、また参加したい。
HB – 裏千家
私のCIPは裏千家流茶道です。毎月二回教室があります。今出川駅のすぐそばにある伝統的な町屋で教室があります。教室は七十人ぐらいです。水曜日の夜におけいこがあります。最初は町屋の茶室に先生の前に先輩からおけいこを受けます。それから練習教室にいって先輩が私に抹茶の作り方教えてくれます。
先学期もこのCIPをしました。だんだん技術が上達しています。時々先生の前で茶の湯を行ないます。まだプラスチック窯を使っていますけど多分すぐに本当の教室で本当の道具を使えるようになると思います。今私の一番の弱点は速さです。いつも先生は「速すぎる」と言います。もっとゆっくりしたほうがいいです。
ケートリン・コナハン：弓道
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。
William HB: Urasenke
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.
Juan Carlos Lozano: English Assistant + Wushu + Nico Nico Tomato Volunteer
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!
ホワンカルロス・ロザノ：中学英語のアシスタント
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。
Adriana Reinecke: Kyoto University Choir
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.
Gabrielle Reinecke: O-koto and the Kyoto University Choir
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.
David Glekel: Go
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.