Michele McAndrews: Manga/Origami

In the spring semester I found it rather difficult to find a regular Community Involvement Project, which I think had a lot to due with the timing. Japanese student groups were not meeting much over their spring break before the new school year started in April, but the Japanese teachers were really helpful and usually went out of their way to find something interesting. Throughout these past few months I’ve been going to arts-and-crafts project groups, with a focus on origami.

A few times I participated in going to the KIXS meetings (Kyoto University International Exchange Society) where I would mingle and chat with Japanese students. But as school went on break, less and less people attended. The most fun I had at a KIXS conversation table was when we all went to dinner together. The conversations flowed the best while we were gathered around good food, and there was lots of talk about upcoming plans for the break or graduation.

What ended up becoming my ‘main’ involvement project was attending origami circles. The first time my friends and I dropped in on a Kyoto student group, the atmosphere felt very awkward. The students didn’t have much of a plan and so we each created individual projects without much involvement as a group. Different origami meetings were held at the Kyoto Station, with a much better structure and lots of friendly people. Everyone was sweet and willing to help with any difficulties anyone had with folding.

Though I have to say my favorite group/circle that I’ve attended so far has to be the manga club. I felt like I fit in with the people there and had a lot of interests in common which made us all want to interact with each other. We all got to see one another’s art styles or portfolios, and even got prompted to draw caricatures of each other!

All in all, interacting and having a common interest with these Japanese groups made me feel really happy that I got to be involved. I feel like I accomplished one of the very things I really wanted to do in Japan, without knowing that I really wanted to do it. And through these circles and groups and clubs, I really felt like I made friends and communicated with the Japanese community.

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.

Phillip Cualing: Kitano Tenmangu Taiko Group

As May approaches, I reflect back on what was an eventful year, being in Japan as a study abroad student. Even though I felt I could have done so much more, been so much better in terms of my Japanese ability than I am now, I still feel like I accomplished a lot and gained new interests, taiko being one of them. When I was in the States, I had heard of it second-hand, but my first real impression with taiko came at a moon viewing at my local shrine in September. When I heard that performance, my first thoughts were of awe and then I wondered how I could do that, which is how I joined the taiko group at Kitano Tenmangu.

During last fall, I joined mostly for furthering my interest in taiko, so I did not really get to know all the members or learn all the pieces by heart, the latter part of which really showed during the end of the year performance when I had a lot of trouble and was rather embarrassed. Thus, I decided to make it my CIP so I could have the time to focus on it wholeheartedly and I believe I have learned a lot, not just in becoming better at playing, but also being able to interact with other Japanese people naturally.

I have a tendency to do things roundabout or in a strange way, and my first practice was no exception. Even though it was October already, I had no cell phone, so I ended up at our teacher’s house by accident instead of at the shrine. My contact (the teacher’s wife) was out, but her parents’ reception of me was humbling, because they not only helped me find where I needed to go, but also gave me a tour of the surrounding area, hosted me for lunch, and even visited a sake brewery with me. Despite my embarrassment at being in that kind of situation, I will never forget the kindness they showed me and hoped to pay it back by really committing myself to taiko this semester.

The practices are much more than practices in my view; we gather, frolic, catch up, joke, help each other, laugh, and plan for the future, not to mention learning new pieces and maintaining the ones we do know. All types of people participated, from children to adults, and our post-practice dinners were the most fun, because it was a chance for us to communicate in a natural fashion and actually grow closer as a group. In terms of people from KCJS, Nate and I were left over from last fall, and Diana, Andres, and Jackson joined us this semester. Arguably, there were a few bumps at first as we all adjusted into the flow of things, but by the time of our spring performance to start the new year, I thought we not only played well, but also got to know everyone else in the group well.

For someone who lacks any musical inclination, my taiko experience was amazing. I picked up a skill that I hope to maintain and grow when I return to the states and made many close relationships with people I want to see when I return to Japan and hope to return all the kindness and warmth I was shown when I was welcomed into the group. Though it may be impossible, I felt like I belonged a little bit when I participated in taiko, which means so much to a person who belongs to no set place or group in the States. Maybe it is because of the tight knit group mentality, but living in Japan just feels as natural to me as moving or breathing when there is the feeling of people who would support and encourage a foreigner, different as I may be.
Given my interests and classes, I have been hurtling towards a crossroads for quite some time, because of how hard it is to reconcile using Japanese and the life sciences in a career. Regardless of whatever happens from this point, the experience I received from participating in this taiko group was worth it, more than anything I could put on a resume.

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.

Meg Beneville: Kyoto Cooking Circle

Meg Beneville: Kyoto Cooking Circle

For my CIP, I decided to take a Japanese cooking class. I’ve attended classes at the Kyoto Cooking Circle of Wings Kyoto and really enjoyed learning how to make many different Japanese dishes and interacting with the teachers and other students. The classes are very gaijin-friendly, and I’ve met people from all over the world, including Australia, Korea, and Spain. Many of them aren’t exchange students but are teachers or expats living in or near Kyoto. The Japanese people attending the classes all seem to have an interest in learning foreign languages or meeting people from different countries. They are very welcoming and we usually talk while we cook. I always get to practice my Japanese, and because we receive the recipes in both Japanese and English, I can compare the two and often figure out what different ingredients are in Japanese based on their English translation. I’m looking forward to trying out some of my new recipes when I get back to the States.

One thing that I’ve observed while attending cooking classes is that even though some of the other foreigners have lived in Japan for years, that doesn’t necessarily mean they can speak Japanese. I was really surprised to hear one woman who had lived in Kyoto for over 5 years struggle with very basic phrases. This is not a judgment on other people, but rather something I’m very sympathetic towards, as I can imagine that moving to Japan without a formal way to study the language must be very difficult. It made me think about how lucky I am to be at a time in my life where I can come to Japan for the specific purpose of learning Japanese, and that I could do so at KCJS, where I am receiving such high quality language instruction. I’ve realized that there is a huge difference between living in Japan as a study abroad student learning about the language and culture, and what it’s like to live in Japan as an adult who ended up in Japan and is just trying to live daily life.

Unfortunately, Kyoto Cooking Circle only meets once a month. My original plan was to take several different cooking classes, but I was surprised to find that Kyoto Cooking Circle in the exception in that it is very affordable. Other classes I looked at were as much as 5000 yen per class, which was completely out of my price range. Because of this, I need to supplement my CIP activity with something else. So far, I’ve helped out with an English lesson for Japanese children, which was a lot of fun. I’m also looking forward to attending some KIX in the next few weeks.

Kristen Lee: Manga Museum Volunteer

I really enjoyed volunteering at the Manga Museum. The atmosphere of the museum is welcoming and comfortable. People of all ages sit by the bookshelves along the walls or outside on the huge lawn to read manga. The other Japanese volunteers are also very nice. Uramune-san, the person who is in charge of us, has been especially friendly and patient in helping us to establish a routine at the museum.

I think this may be the first time the museum has had KCJS students in the front part of the museum interacting with Japanese and foreign visitors. Our only job was to give English tours, so we often just stood by the front desk with the greeters until a visitor came who wanted a tour. We usually went on Sundays, but even though more Japanese visitors come to the museum on weekends, there seem to be fewer foreign visitors. I think that because foreign visitors are usually tourists, it does not matter to them whether they go to the museum on the weekend or a weekday. However, the museum was very flexible in allowing us to come whenever it fit our schedules as long as they are notified in advance.

I did not know exactly what to expect about volunteering at the museum, but I did think it would be easier to talk to the other volunteers about topics unrelated to the museum and get to know them better; however, they are very busy with their own tasks, so it is hard to ask them about irrelevant topics. Although the workers are always nice and patient in answering my questions about the museum, they do not usually initiate conversations with us. We also take our break at a different time from other volunteers. If there are other people in the break room, they are usually napping or using their cell phones, so we rarely get a chance to interact with them outside of the more formal work setting. Although the work setting of the museum may have been a factor, I think because Melanie and I always stuck together during our volunteering time also made us more unapproachable for the other Japanese volunteers to come and talk with us.

It is interesting to see how the Japanese volunteers interact with each other in the semi-formal work setting of the Manga Museum. For example, whenever another museum worker passes by, both people say「おつかれさまです」to each other. Museum workers also speak in formal Japanese to visitors. When a visitor leaves the museum, any worker near the exit bows and thanks them for coming. These ritualized greetings and switch in formality between fellow workers and visitors are very interesting to observe. The other workers even included us in their greetings, which made me feel more a part of the museum.

Hoku Kaahaaina: Assistant English Teacher

I was never very fond of children, unless they reminded me of myself.  I don’t know if anything really changed my opinion, but nevertheless, I’ve enjoyed my time at Kyoto Bunkyo.  I would have liked to have a role more like what a language assistant would actually do, but my schedule and the school schedules don’t really match up well enough for me to have that experience.  Anyhow, I usually just float around and do whatever people tell me to do.  Which basically turns out to be speaking to their students in English, which is completely within the bounds of my capabilities, no problem.  The first or second time I showed up was a bit uncomfortable because I didn’t know what to expect or the situation wasn’t really optimal, but by the third and fourth time, I was thoroughly entertained.  As for the secret of being entertained, I simply grew to not take anything personally and just bask in the adorability of bad English.  As contrary as it could be to my personality at school, I would have to say that I can be quite the charmer.  I pretty much say whatever I want within the realm of acceptability and treat the students more like friends and acquaintances than friends.  Also, perhaps because I am usually a quiet person, I find it really easy to sit down patiently to deal with other quiet people and coaxing an actual conversation out of the ones who were actually capable of holding one.  Anyhow, although I don’t feel particularly integrated in the school, I got the general idea that I wouldn’t hate myself completely if I decided to come back to teach in the JET Program.

Anuj Patel: Kyodai Research

For my CIP, I had the chance to work in the Funahashi research lab at Kyoto University. To be honest, I was doubtful that the opportunity would come together at all. Three months is a fairly short period of time to contribute, and I certainly know nothing about animal research. Nonetheless, Dr. Funahashi exceeded my expectations immediately, not only by replying to my email but even inviting me to observe an experiment the very next week. Particularly because I also work as an RA in a lab back at home, I was excited about getting the chance to see what a lab in Japan would be like. Since I also didn’t have much experience with monkey research, I was also particularly excited about seeing these methods in use.

My main concern was that I would not have many opportunities to actually interact with my professor and the researchers in the lab, as everyone was fairly busy with their work. Moreover, without too much time or significant training, the number of things that I could actually help with were fairly limited. In the beginning, this is exactly what happened. After my initial tour of the lab, my main task was printing graphs. A lot of graphs. On top of that, I occasionally missed the memo when my professor went to conferences, and got locked out from the lab once. It wasn’t exactly the ideal opportunity to participate in society.

However, as time went on and my routine began to settle, I started to find excuses to talk with the other people in the lab. It would generally start with someone asking me if I wasn’t bored, printing graphs all day, and then the discussion would continue from there. I was finally able to have conversations! I got to hear about all sorts of topics, ranging from the added difficulty of having to publish scientific papers in English, to comments on Kyoto and Japan in general. When I brought back omiyage from Ise (which in and of itself made me feel a little bit more like a part of the gro up), we had a conversation about how many schools will go there as a class trip. As time went on, I also began to be able to contribute in more ways. I was able to help beyond printing graphs, and even got to help with the monkeys once. These sorts of experiences were not only exciting in their own right, but they also helped to create more opportunities to ask questions and speak with the other members of the lab.

This development took a fair amount of time, and it’s unfortunate that just as I begin to really start to make progress, I’m going to have to leave. I think a particularly large obstacle was having only a fairly small group of graduate students and my professor to interact with; apparently undergraduates don’t work as research assistants particularly often. I would have liked to meet more students, but given that Kyodai was on spring break, there also haven’t been any seminars or courses I could sit in on. (As a result, I’m glad that I also got to participate in KIX occasionally as well.) Overall, however, I think that my experience in the lab was a positive one. I got to maintain some sort of connection with neuroscience even while in Japan, and I got to get to know a group of interesting, friendly people.

Marli Gordon: Kyodai Choir Reflection

The first choir practice I attended at Kyodai University held many surprises for me.  That first day, four other KCJS students and I were warmly greeted by three choir members at the entrance to the University.  They then lead us upstairs to a large room where the rest of the choir was assembled.  Members surrounded us and introduced themselves, pointing to their nametags which they all had hanging on strings around their necks.  Every single person I talked to made sure to make us feel like we were part of the group.  As we participated in the warm-up exercises, the moment we looked confused, or even before we had a chance to, someone was always there to help us along.  We went through the routine of stretching, singing while walking, singing while walking backwards and other voice exercises.  The new members had their voices examined and I was placed into the Alto section.  We practiced with our section and then sang the piece as a whole choir.  After practice there was a designated time for people to make
announcements.  I quickly caught on to choir rituals such as the established responses to certain phrases.  Whenever a member was speaking to the choir he or she announced their name and everyone responded: “Whoa!”  If they mentioned a place: “so close!”, a time: “so early!”, a price: “so cheap!”  and so on.  These responses united
the entire club and created a fun atmosphere while listening to numerous ordinary speeches.   Once the announcements were finished we met with our section groups one last time before disbanding.  The Alto leader gave us a recap on practice and there was time for Alto-specific notices.  After some cleaning and a song by the guys,
then girls and finally everyone all together my first practice came to an end.

Before starting my CIP, I had been warned that it can be particularly difficult to engage Japanese in conversation but, instead, I found that I couldn’t get a word in edge-wise and was shocked by the contagious energy that everyone seemed to be bursting with.  After the first day, I left feeling confident that I would quickly make tons of friends.
However, as time passed and our novelty wore off, students stopped approaching us on their own.  I regularly talked to Alto members but otherwise I felt like I was sliding backwards and losing that initial sense of membership.  In retrospect, I think joining the circle with five other KCJS members and having that first overwhelming interaction with the Japanese students gave me a false sense of security that ended up reducing my efforts to socialize.  Another deterring factor was the number of practices.  The students
had most of February off and then when they did meet we were on Spring Break.  Despite these drawbacks I do enjoy being a member of the choir and internalizing Japanese social norms.  I hope to make the most of the last few practices
we have left and solidify the friendships I have made.

Natasha Gollin: Kyoto University Gasshoudan

I have been attending choir practice regularly since I first joined the Kyoudai Gasshoudan, or the Kyoto University Mixed Voices Chorus, early in fall semester. There was a break for approximately a month this semester, but other than that, I have usually been going to practices twice a week, and if all works out I intend to appear in part of the annual spring mini-concert/happyoukai on April 28th.

Starting choir last semester was hard because I did not know anyone there, save for one classmate. Additionally, the others had a head start on the songs, and I even had to learn how to pronounce some Hungarian! There were also some choir traditions and routines that I had to get used to—staying after for announcements and optional singing time, for one. But now, not only do I understand a lot of the musical terms (such as gakufu, “sheet music” and ensoukai ni noru, “to appear in a concert, lit. ‘ride’”) and find the music easier to learn, but I have several fellow KCJSers there with me! I feel like my decision to continue choir had a large influence on the decision of not just one, but FIVE other students to join as well. I am also used to the routine of things, though it gets tiring at times going over the same part in the music ad nauseam, or doing exercises for reasons unclear to me.

Due to the costs and time involved, this time I also passed on a couple of major choir happenings that I had participated in last semester: the retreat (which cost far more than last time, and even included some school days), and appearing in the full concert (which costs around 10,000 yen, but I decided to at least be in the E-ru (theme/fight song?) and encore, which only costs 2000 yen—not cheap, but at least I perform at all). However, because of this and the time off, I feel a little less connected to choir this semester. There is less motivation to keep attending each practice when I will not actually be performing the songs.

At first I may have been a hindrance, but now I feel like more of a “real member” than before. For one, since the end of the winter concert, I have graduated from a chorus first-year to a shin-nikaisei (“new” second year)! Also, I have been part of a planning team for a fun Christmas event with party games and song performances for each other. I have also performed an English song (Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours”) with two other KCJSers at this semester’s version of that event…and it was a huge hit. One person didn’t even care about looking up the actual song—he just wished he could hear OUR version again.  We found out a few weeks later that our act had won the grand prize by popular choice! I haven’t been so pleasantly shocked in a while.

After my time with the Gasshoudan, I came to see that its members are committed in a different way from typical American choruses—perhaps more at the same level as a college a cappella group. Because of the choir’s many expenses and hours of practice per week, the members have a high degree of loyalty and commitment to the group—often it is their only extracurricular activity.  Also, as I mentioned in my blog last semester, this choir certainly has its traditions, or shall I say quirks—odd nicknames, staying after practice for announcements where people in various leadership positions run up in front of the crowd and say things in unison, singing extra songs after that, and an array of unusual warm-ups, such as forming large concentric circles and doing scales while marching quickly backwards around the conductor. I am still fairly sure that this does not represent Japanese choirs as a whole…as I said last semester, the Kyodai Gasshoudan is just “a group with a long and distinguished history of excellence and quirkiness.”

From my CIP, I learned that people will always be there to help me or explain things to me when I need it, so I should not worry and struggle through the music director’s instructions alone. Since they were there for me, I felt the desire to continue in choir and keep working with them to make lovely music—which is, in the end, the objective here.

Though the Gasshoudan was socially out of my comfort zone, I learned that while in a foreign country, it’s always good to put yourself out there and try to bond with your peers—to start talking with people, work hard at what you’re doing, keep a cheerful and approachable demeanor, and do not be afraid to ask questions. You will get a lot out of your experience, trust me.