「Institution」カテゴリーアーカイブ

Sarah O'Connell: WakJapan

投稿日時: 投稿者:

This semester, I concentrated my efforts into volunteering at WakJapan, an organization designed to introduce people to traditional Japanese experiences and crafts, such as trying on kimono, participating in tea ceremonies, folding origami, etc. Although I started working there last semester (in order to make up for the days the museum could not call on me), this semester was when everything finally started to click.

In any workplace environment, things tend to go smoother if you know your coworkers beyond the surface level. Last semester, having only started working for WakJapan late in the year, I hardly knew anyone but my main CIP contact. However, this semester that changed. Starting from when I got back from Winter Break in January, WakJapan helped me participate in Japan’s Coming-of-Age Ceremony (a huge ceremony here that celebrates everyone who has turned twenty in the last year) by providing me with a formal kimono, muffler, hair ornaments, shoes, and a purse that one of my coworkers had used on her coming-of-age day, which I got to keep as present. Going to the Coming-of-Age Ceremony was really nerve-wracking, as no one else from KCJS could go, but WakJapan supported me throughout the whole endeavor, making it a memorable and fun experience. After that, I grew closer to my coworkers, and we started doing things like going out to eat lunch together, chatting in the office, and exchanging amusing stories while on break. Of course, I still had a job to do – as did everyone else – and my days have certainly been busy filing papers, translating from Japanese to English (and back again), preparing sessions for customers, and helping people put on kimono and fixing their hair – just to name a few. But throughout everything I did, the most memorable part of my time at WakJapan has been the bonds I have formed. I didn’t expect this to be more than a job, but surprisingly my CIP this semester has turned out to be one of my favorite things about studying abroad in Kyoto.

Shuyun Zhang: Pottery Class

投稿日時: 投稿者:

I go to Pottery Class near Kiyomizudera on every Saturday from 10am to 2pm. The name of the pottery class is Zuikougam(瑞光窯). I am glad that I take the pottery class and I’ve learnt more about Japanese culture.

 

Except for me, all other students are middle-aged or seniors. I do not know is it because the young Japanese are not into traditional art anymore or they do not have time for the 4-hour lesson. Anyways, all the students are very friendly and helpful. I feel very much welcomed by them. But regardless of their age and gender, they are really into ceramics and they take notes so carefully when there is a seminar. Japanese people really like to take notes and organize things neatly. They also like to bring some presents such as wagashi or sweets they bought to class and share with the other classmates. I like that.

 

The communication part is not that easy as there are many verbs and terms that I’ve never heard before, but thankfully, this is a skill that you can learn from imitating. I’ve learnt how to use the “rokuro” to make cups and bowls, how to paint on the plates and how to put glaze on the things I made. So far I’ve been to 6 classes and I’ve made 4 plates, 6 bowls and 2 cups, thanks to the sensei’s help. I noticed the other students’ work are related to Japanese traditional art as well and I can tell they are really passionate about it. For instance, someone made a whole set for雛祭りand someone made several plates that have the painting ofアジサイon them.

 

I really like my pottery class and I hope if there is any chance, I could continues it in America.

Yuewei WANG: Life in Kyoto

投稿日時: 投稿者:

From September 2015, I have been participated in the production of a bi-monthly informational journal called Life in Kyoto under kokoka Kyoto International Community House. I volunteered for the Japanese version, English version, and Chinese version. The production cycle is eight weeks long, and themes of articles are decided based on the season of the year and aimed to help foreigners know Kyoto better and navigate their lives in Japan.

For the Japanese meeting, there are about twenty people, and the age of participants range from undergraduate students to senior men in their sixties. Because of the nature of the production, this volunteer experience involves a lot of talking about tiny details, from grammar to choice of words, which I appreciate the most, since it gives the chance to experience how Japanese people actually talk and collaborate, and I can ask any question I want no matter how trivial it seems. As for the English meeting, number of participants can range from three people to ten people. We correct grammar and making sentences easier to understand. Since English is my second language and Japanese is my third language, this volunteer experience really helps me with improving both languages’ skills.

Aside from learning language, this CIP gave me an opportunity to look into Japanese society and be an “in-group” member of kokoka. Specifically, during the volunteer orientation at the beginning of 2016, I was in charge of introducing Life in Kyoto to people who are interested in participating as volunteers. In addition, when they do come to meetings, I was the one to introduce the over-all flow of meeting, explain details of translations, and encourage further participation.

Also, after I am identified as in-group member through consistent participation of both English and Japanese meetings and trying to talk with other members after meetings, other Japanese volunteers started to talk with in casual form and Kansaiben instead of honorific style of speech. Last semester, when I have difficulties pronouncing certain words, which obviously show others that I am a foreigner, other Japanese volunteers would try to continue the conversation with very simple Japanese or English and talk very slowly. In contrast, it changed this semester; even during conversations with new Japanese volunteers, when I sometimes fail on Keigo, they would continue the conversation with normal Japanese. This level of trust and acknowledgement in my Japanese language level really moves me. At last, once you are in-group member, people will naturally take care of you various ways. For instance, I was considering changing my major from Psychology to Classical Japanese at the beginning of this semester, and after one of employees at kokoka heard about this, she introduced me two people from Kyoto University who might help me figure out studying Classical Japanese in Japan.

From my experience, I learned that consistent participation and interaction with other members are the key to be accepted as a member of the group. So, I want to encourage future participants of CIP in general to talk with Japanese people before, during, and after each activity. It could start with talking about the weather, asking for recommended restaurants in Kyoto, confirming names, asking about their universities, and complaining how stressful school work is. Please do not feel devastated if you make mistakes in Keigo or pronunciation. After all, Japanese is not our first language, so as a international student, you will always be forgiven, but do not use that as an excuse to communicate in English only. If you keep trying, at some point, your Japanese could be good enough to talk fluently with Japanese natives. For future students who are considering taking Life in Kyoto as their CIP, I would recommend go to at least one Japanese meeting and one Eglish meeting, and check with your KCJS senseis to know more about the long meeting hours, and if you language level suits.

Hana Lethen: K.Classic Ballet

投稿日時: 投稿者:

I have done ballet since I was five years old, so I was very excited to take ballet class every week during my semester in Kyoto at K.Classic Ballet Studio.   Initial contact was a bit daunting, as it involved painstakingly reviewing rather simple emails to make sure they didn’t involve any embarrassing keigo mishaps.  My first day at the studio, I was very nervous, wondering how out-of-place I would look and feel.  However, as we took our places at the barre to begin class, I felt completely at home.

The etiquette in a typical ballet class shares a lot in common with that of Japanese society.  Politeness and humility, especially toward one’s teacher and to older students, are essential, as is following the rules of classical dance.  Uniformity is emphasized; the students all wear a similar style of leotard, tights, and ballet slippers.  Even the Japanese rule of not wearing street shoes indoors applies to ballet studios.  I realized that having grown up taking ballet classes helped me to adjust to life in Japan.

The content of ballet classes here is comfortingly familiar.  The same French ballet terms are used, although they are uttered in Kansai-ben.  Our teacher is very direct in her critique, and ballet class is the only setting in Japan in which most of the Japanese I hear is in command form.  However, although class is very formal, the students have been very welcoming.  I feel that we relate to each other because of our shared love for ballet and because of our shared lifestyles, which have been shaped by ballet.

Through my classes at K.Classic Ballet, I have been able to challenge myself to branch out beyond the community at KCJS and Doshisha.  Ballet classes themselves do not offer much opportunity for communication practice, as everyone, besides the teacher, is expected to be silent.  It was the moments in the dressing room when I worked up the courage to ask someone their name or to compliment their dancing—and the conversations which stemmed from these initial remarks—which were the most rewarding regarding interaction with the other ballet students.  In my experience, taking initiative to interact with my CIP peers, along with choosing an activity I am truly passionate about, have definitely been key to having a meaningful community experience in Kyoto.

 

 

Joseph Martin: Aikido

投稿日時: 投稿者:

Coming into KCJS I was still undecided about what specific CIP I wanted to pursue, but I was interested in some sort of physical activity. After searching several possibilities, I eventually discovered an Aikido dojo and decided to give it a try. For the first class I was only allowed to observe. Following this session of observation I began practicing and immediately found myself in a situation contrary to what I had expected.

Having no previous experience in Aikido, I began training at a level far below that of all of the other dojo members. Consequently I made mistakes often, and at times was asked by the sensei to sit in seiza and observe the movements more carefully before attempting them again. Thankfully one of the senior members at the dojo took me aside and began teaching me more basic movements and techniques to help me progress, and through his help I was able to improve a great amount. After the first month I began to feel more comfortable in the practices as I was no longer making fundamental mistakes nearly as often. As a result I was able to place a greater focus on the techniques that the sensei would teach to the entire class rather than being isolated for fundamental work.

While communication outside of the dojo was quite limited, I did have opportunities to practice my Japanese during the lessons. Depending on the sensei, they would either speak entirely in Japanese or occasionally use English to explain certain movements. In the lessons we would partner up with other dojo members and take turns performing what the sensei had instructed us to do. In this setting I was able to communicate with my partner in Japanese and ask questions accordingly, although comprehending their responses posed some challenges at times. Nevertheless, I would ask clarifying questions and felt that this setting was a great way to put my Japanese from a classroom setting to use.

About half way through the semester I also began attending morning zazen sessions in the dojo on the weekends. These sessions were an entirely different experience than the usual physical aspects of our lessons as they were mentally intensive. I found these sessions to be extremely beneficial in clearing my mind of any stress inducing thoughts and always left feeling more relaxed.

The aspects of this CIP that I struggled with the most and never quite mastered were the nuances involved in such a formal class structure of martial arts. In nearly every practice I forgot or was not aware of certain practices of respect, such as the correct time to bow, when to sit in seiza, and how to speak with my partner. In my experience with boxing such formalities were not common practices, and holding this mindset when beginning Aikido caused me difficulties. Regardless, my biggest takeaways from this experience have been that Aikido, like many other aspects of life, requires a constant commitment to improve at a gradual pace. I would advise future students to choose an activity that they have previous experience in due to the time constraints of the semester.

Xiaolin Lei: Reborn Kyoto Volunteer

投稿日時: 投稿者:

For the past 9 weeks I was an active volunteer at the Kyoto based NGO Reborn Kyoto, a non-profit organization conducting philanthropic activities in developing countries to foster women’s financial independence. Since their establishment in 1979, Reborn Kyoto completed successful projects in 7 countries and are now in the process of their 8th project in Rwanda. The organization offers women from ages 18-35 free vocational training in sewing skills and technology and also hires them, after the completion of their training, to produce in-house designed pieces using fabric of donated kimonos from all over Japan. The finished products are sent back to Japan for sale in department stores, Reborn Kyoto’s flagship store and artisan markets to generate revenue. The clothing are very beautiful pieces with much variety, from winter coats to summer dresses for people of all genders and ages.

With zero sewing capability (granted, I did once sew an unwearable skirt), I approached the organization to volunteer my time in the hopes that I can contribute my efforts to a cause I was interested in. As a result, I shared a lot of quality time with around 10-15 local Japanese volunteers, all senior women who have a passion for sewing and participates twice a week to produce pieces for sale in-house. While I cannot sew at all, I enjoyed running small errands for them, completing small tasks, and chit chatting for 2 hours at a time every week. There were many noted differences between the local volunteers and me, like age and locational differences. However, the most memorable realizations and lessons were cultural ones.

Initially I did not know how to best conduct my demeanor in front of the other volunteers who clearly had way more experience living and working than I did. Maybe it was the language and culture barrier, but I found it difficult to start conversation at first. In this situation, it occurred to me that the only culturally appropriate behavior Japanese textbooks ever taught me were cumbersomely long sentences of keigo. So I tried my best to speak as respectfully as I could. My clumsy efforts at keigo (i.e. ending sentences with ~でございます) only drew light laughter from them. They seem rather amused at my proper tone and overly humble word choices. One person kindly informed me that the keigo I was using is best reserved for formal business settings and that I should speak comfortably in front of them. I was grateful for any hints or cues on appropriate conduct and immediately dropped my keigo with them.

From this I realized two things; one is that while Japanese textbooks are very difficult to write, take a lot of skill to perfect and should definitely be lauded for effort, cultural lessons are best learned outside of the classroom. The second thing is the immense complexity of keigo. It is not only learning the set phrases and sentence structures that is vital to navigating the respectful form, but also understanding when and how to utilize it. Keigo is not merely just phrases of respect we need to blindly memorize, like any other cultural lesson from our textbooks, it encompasses very real social interactions that either enables your usage or kills it. My initial conversations with the local volunteers demonstrated precisely that; no matter how much keigo I knew, as long as I was using it in the wrong context, it came off silly and unnecessary. Perhaps the only benefit that came out of this episode was being able to break the ice a little while I sat in a small Japanese style room surrounded by older Japanese women all sewing skillfully.

An additional cultural observation after many weeks of volunteering is the act of ippukukyukei (tea time), or simply in my mind, ocha taimu. Every day at 15:00 someone from the organization (usually the administrative assistant) makes tea, puts out some snacks and gathers everyone for a 10-15 minute break. During this time people quench their appetite with tea and a small snack while chatting with one another about any topic of interest. I missed ippukukyukei for the first few weeks due to schedule conflicts and was offered tea and special snacks on the side to take home. I was treated very kindly by everyone, but always as a guest only. While I did not mind their kindness, I almost found it difficult to refuse the snacks and integrate myself into their team. I could feel that they were paying special attention to take care of me as the foreign guest. Again, I did not want to object to their kindness, but I was surprised by the amount of time it took before they saw me as one of their regular volunteers.

That said, this week, after a little over 2.5 months of volunteering my services, I am happy to announce that I have successfully integrated myself into the volunteer circle by proactively asking to make tea during ocha taimu (I know I am conflating the terms but in my mind they are one and the same). I am extremely pleased with the fact that I am no longer regarded as a guest but a part of the team. Everyone drank the tea I made and said it tasted delicious. Note that by “made” I mean putting in tealeaves, adding hot water to a big teapot, pouring said tea into cups and served to everyone. Whether the tea was actually delicious is besides the point here, I truly think that was their way of showing their gratitude. While this process of insinuating myself into the volunteer team was rather slow and comparatively different to any of my past experiences with institutions and organizations in the U.S, I was content with the baby steps and victories I carved out for myself through this CIP.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time getting to know these local volunteers who I would probably never come into contact with if not for this project. I hope to keep in touch with one of the volunteers, Kuroki-san, who looked out for me from the very beginning and taught me many life lessons, like sewing buttons onto shirts, creative ways of utilizing kansaiben, and many more stories from her life. Like many of my other experiences in Japan, my CIP activity is another example of 一期一会 that I have learned to treasure.

Karinne Lorig: Klexon

投稿日時: 投稿者:

While I had been to Klexon once before during last term, I began to go regularly once the embroidery class I had been attending went on break until summer. Klexon is an English practice circle for those who wish to have an opportunity to practice their conversational English with others studying the language as well as with volunteer English speakers from Anglophone countries. The group attracts a wide range of students and young adults from both a wide area of Japan and abroad, so to accommodate the resultant range of scheduling needs, the group meets Tuesdays at 19 o’clock, late though that is. Having never been to any practice group other than this one before or, in fact, provided help to those studying English as a second language in any official capacity before, I quickly found myself making adjustments both in the way I was speaking and in the way I was listening to things in order to better facilitate communication. I began to enunciate my speech a little more than I usually do and be cognizant of how opaque certain turns of phrase and idioms can be to people not from my own culture. Similarly, as I continued to go, I became more and more aware of the types of pronunciation distinctions that can be difficult for native speakers of Japanese beyond the oft-cited ‘L’ and ‘R’ pronunciation such as the subtle vowel distinctions that differentiate words such as ‘machinery’ and ‘missionary’ and listen carefully to try and suss out which was which.

But it wasn’t just the thing I was doing that helped expand my horizons. Though it surprised me initially, it’s the broad variety of people that I’m able to meet by going which keeps me attending Klexon. Through going there, I’ve been able to have conversations with many people who are not only interesting, but come from wide ranging backgrounds and professions—such as dolphin trainers, specialists in British history, and even current and former Doshisha students—whom I likely wouldn’t have had the chance to meet otherwise.

Nicolle Bertozzi: Chanoyu Lessons

投稿日時: 投稿者:

In addition to continuing my CIP at the Kubota Birendo sudare shop this semester, I began studying the tea ceremony. Thanks in large part to everything the Kubotas taught me about the tea ceremony last semester, I decided that I wanted to learn more about the ceremony myself. In addition to researching chanoyu as part of an Independent Study research project, taking lessons myself seemed like a natural next step. I was introduced to my tea teacher, Arai-sensei, through a colleague of my IS project advisor at the beginning of this semester, and have been taking weekly lessons ever since.

In the world of chanoyu, which is often seen as very rigid and uptight, Arai-sensei is known for being very relaxed. He makes room for casual conversation during his lessons and is always happy to answer questions from his students. As I have never taken tea lessons with anyone other than Arai-sensei, I cannot compare firsthand how his teaching style differs from those of, say, an Urasenke-certified teacher. I can say, however, that the environment of Arai-sensei’s tearoom is very calm. Generally, there are two stations set up for students to practice their temae, the choreographed motions one goes through when preparing a bowl of matcha for one’s guests. At the center of the tearoom, Arai-sensei sits seiza, keeping a watchful eye on the students’ temae. While acting as the shokyaku—or main guest—of the student’s ceremony, he guides the student through the temae, correcting errors and explaining each step along the way.

One of the first things that caught my attention about Arai-sensei was how carefully he pays attention to each of his students’ temae; even when there are two students practicing at the same time, Arai-sensei always keeps track of exactly when the shokyaku is supposed to bow during the course of each ceremony. Additionally, he can tell immediately when something in the temae is out of order, even when that something is as easy to overlook as a cloth folded along the wrong seam.

As opposed to the teaching style one often finds in America, in which students are divided into classes based on experience level, Arai-sensei’s chanoyu lessons are designed for students of all levels. At the same time that I would be struggling through the beginner’s temae, there might be a student practicing alongside me who had been taking lessons for years, for whom the motions of the temae felt natural. Watching these students during their practice is considered a great learning opportunity for beginner students, so I was often invited to observe their temae seated next to Arai-sensei. What surprised me, however, was that the opposite was true as well: Observing the temae of a less experienced student is considered to be just as valuable. It is a chance to revisit the basics, when each movement of the temae is still executed as a conscious effort. There is a term in Japanese—shoshin, or “beginner’s heart”—that is believed to be an important part of any student’s core practice. No matter how far one advances in their training, it is incredibly important to return occasionally to the beginning.

It wasn’t until I explained my tea lessons to the Kubotas that I came to understand how fundamental this philosophy of the shoshin is in the Japanese traditional arts. A student of tea himself, Shinji Kubota nodded along knowingly as I told him about the other students observing my practice. “It really is a great way to learn,” he said. “You notice so much about how the flow of the temae works when you are watching someone learning it for the first time.”

My study of the tea ceremony this semester has proven to be an incredibly valuable experience. It has provided me with many insights into the world of tea, which has of course been central to my research project. More so than that, however, learning tea has connected me to a new community within Kyoto, a city where the art of chanoyu continues to thrive.

 

Ling Xi Min: Volunteering at Kyoto Museum for World Peace

投稿日時: 投稿者:

I had the privilege of volunteering at the Kyoto Museum for World Peace as part of my weekly CIP activity. The arrangement was that I would go to the museum every Tuesday to volunteer for a period of about 3 hours after morning classes, where I would carry tasks including translation (between English and Japanese and occasionally German), research and miscellaneous jobs like digitizing the museum’s postcard collection (from the 1920s).

I had never worked in a museum before, let alone a museum in Japan, and to some extent I did not know what to expect, particularly with regard to how much language ability I would require in order to function and contribute effectively. Thankfully, in spite of being one of two people in the museum who could speak fluent English, things turned out as well as they could have. I think that how much one can contribute in these contexts depends as much on how one deploys one’s skills as what skills one has (which for me was a middle-schooler’s Japanese, native-level English and some limited research experience). The reality for me was that my Japanese was not good enough to write descriptions for the permanent exhibition, and probably will not be for a while. The speed at which I read and processed Japanese language research materials was also obviously slower than that of the Japanese staff. What I did instead for translation tasks, was to take the target passages in English, translate them to the best of my ability and leave the rest to the Japanese staff. Though I initially worried about the appropriateness of my translation, the curator explained to me how they saw it: it is far easier for the Japanese staff to fix broken Japanese than it is for them to read English. And though Japanese-language research materials could obviously be parsed faster by Japanese staff, what I could bring to the table was specialized knowledge and new interpretations of data related to what I had been studying in my home institution. Communicating ideas in academic Japanese to my hosts was not always easy, but it could be done with a dictionary and vocabulary list.

One important lesson this CIP taught me was to be realistic about my Japanese ability and keep short-term goals realistic. For me, it was sometimes tempting to aspire to native-level Japanese in the long term without figuring out all the small steps along the way or whether I even needed native-level Japanese to function meaningfully in a particular work context. I never imagined that something as simple as a vocabulary list would help so much – especially in a workplace where specialized vocabulary, more than grammar, is key. Having measured goals really helped me to make the most of my time at the museum and identify the ways in which I could contribute to the team.

A lot is said about the purported differences between the Japanese and non-Japanese work environments – that the former requires a greater attention to formality and hierarchy than the latter for instance. This is perhaps true to a degree, but what I encountered was not a rigid environment where everyone wore suits and bowed to their superiors at a set angle. Rather, people were in general quite relaxed. Hierarchy was not entirely eliminated – there were clearly staff with managerial responsibilities – and it was not fun and games all the time, since there was always work to be done. But in all, the whole system seemed to work out reasonably for most if not all. I think that while it is always good to have an idea of possible cultural differences between oneself and one’s hosts, what is equally or perhaps more important is to be observant of and sensitive to one’s specific context, rather than come in with a fixed idea of what one expects to find. Much like anywhere else, Japan is a big place, and there are all sorts of people and organizations, some of which will resemble the stereotypical Japanese work environment more than others. For me, the museum was a happy balance between the new and the familiar, and I especially owe a lot to the patience and open-mindedness of the staff I had the privilege of working under.

Jordan LaPointe: Assistant Language Teacher at Ohara Gakuin/Yoga at Tamisa Yoga Studio

投稿日時: 投稿者:

For the Spring semester, I split my time between teaching English as an ALT at Ohara Gakuin (which I go into detail about in my Fall semester post) and doing yoga at the Tamisa Yoga Studio on Teramachi. Ohara was very engaging and it was nice to see the students mature a little over the past 6 months as well as become more comfortable with my presence. Because of this experience, I now have some insight into teaching English to a variety of grades, which may come in handy if I decide to pursue an ALT position with JET.

In respect to yoga, I am learning A LOT, mostly that I am as flexible as a tree trunk. Fortunately, the studio has bilingual instructors so the transition into yoga with virtually no experience hasn’t been to bad. It is also a nice change of pace, to go from being a teacher to being a regular student. Also, I’ve gotten more opportunities to practice my listening skills and silent observation as I have attempted to discreetly check the actions of my fellow yoga practitioners to ensure that I’m doing things correctly…Overall, yoga has been a great experience and I recommend it to anyone interested, regardless of prior experience.