After a few attempts to join more KCJS-typical CIPs, like an aikido circle and a choir, I sat down and considered how I actually wanted to participate in Kyoto’s community. The answer to this question, like many others in my life, was cats. I had volunteered for a few years with cats back in America, so I knew the gist of what I was signing up for. My language class sensei located a shelter about a minute’s walk from the Kamikatsura train station. （「＝L’s=猫の家族探し」。）
It clicked early on to me that the patient people who worked at L’s were willing to guess at my dubious vocabulary until they understood what I was saying, to my relief.
The first day I got there, there were three kittens who had been born only the previous week and abandoned in the street by their mother, pictured here: http://catls.blog5.fc2.com/blog-entry-477.html
I got to see them saved by the people working there, and sometimes even care for them myself, which was tremendously satisfying since I’d only ever volunteered with cats over the age of 15 back in the states. I remember one week I became very startled to see a very large bump on one of their bellies. I was extremely worried because I’d only ever seen that size of bump on cats who had cancer. I quickly looked up the word for tumor and told the owner of the shelter. She kind of laughed and told me to my relief that it was just a hernia. I don’t know how that little guy got a hernia at three weeks old, but he’s still fine scampering around and I know the word for tumor now.
This is just one of the many stories I have of the good people at L’s saving lives and legitimately caring about their animals. The interesting thing people don’t tell you about many shelters in Japan is that they, like L’s, take place in private homes and living spaces, and are filled with animals to which volunteers donate their time, money, and love. I was shocked to learn this, and am elated there are such good people in Japan fighting under the radar to save animals’ lives, both inside and outside NPO’s.
「Tufts University」カテゴリーアーカイブ
Joseph Tsuboi: Kyoto University Karate Club
One of my goals before coming to study in Kyoto was to practice karate-do in Japan. I began shitō-ryū karate-dō when I was seven years old back home in California and I spent much of my childhood and early adulthood in the dōjō. Away at school in Boston, I have found it difficult to continue competition training and I mainly practice or teach when I am back home during vacations. Therefore, other than summer breaks, it had been a while since I had trained rigorously and continuously. Before leaving California, I talked to my sensei about karate-do in Japan, wondering how different it would be and whether I would be able to fit in easily. My sensei told me about locations in Osaka where I could practice, but, luckily, I was able to find a club that practices shitō-ryū karate-dō at Kyoto University.
Since I began practicing with the Kyoto University karate club, I have learned a lot about both karate techniques and also relationships within Japanese extracurricular activities. The first thing that was apparent to me was the senpai-kōhai social hierarchy within this club, which is prevalent among various groups. Though I had studied a bit of keigo before, I did not actually have experiences in which I could practice, so my keigo knowledge was put to the test during my initial contact with the club through email. When I showed up during the first week of the semester, I could immediately discern who were senpai and team captains. Though this karate club is taught by senpai who are either graduate school students or fellow undergraduate students, kōhai still bow to them in passing. Yet, at the same time, high and low level belts all train together and I was impressed by the skills of the lower levels students. Thus, the senpai-kōhai relationship is definitely intimidating, but the respect towards other members the club produces a great practice environment.
Additionally, I have learned quite a bit about kumite, or sparring, technique. This club splits up based on those who want to practice kata, or form, and those who want to practice kumite. I stuck with the kumite group, mostly because that’s what the majority of the group practices. Back home in my dojo, I take on a senpai role to many of the younger kids and I am expected to teach at times. At Kyōdai’s practices, I am once again kōhai and I have had to adjust my training mentality to accept critique and to be willing to change my techniques. This was not an easy thing to accept at first, but, truly, I know that I have learned a great amount of new skills. As a result, I have become more comfortable and confident in my kumite techniques thanks to Kyoto University karate club, and I hope to bring back what I have learned to my dōjō.
Samuel Wachtel: Kyoto Daigaku Karate Club
For my CIP, I joined the Kyoto University Varsity Karate Team. It’s been a really fun and challenging semester with them, and I’ve learned a lot, about both Karate and Japanese culture.
Before coming to Japan, I had trained Karate for a little over 10 years in America. American Karate has no central organization at all, and varies a lot place to place. However, Karate as a sport is not very popular in the US, so most people (and, therefore, most dojos) in the US are practicing to get involved with the art and culture, and to learn self-defense. In this particular collegiate karate team, we practice very sport-focused karate, which was a big shift for me.
Traditionally, karate consists of basics, sparring, and Kata (forms). In this club, everyone does only either sparring or Kata. They put me with the sparring people. We essentially practiced fencing with our hands. For example, they place a huge amount of emphasis on stomping your foot to make an impressive sound just as you retract your fist. Of course, this means always striking the opponent while standing on one foot, which is not remotely practical.
I became good friends with the Karate club. Everyone there is friendly and helpful. Particularly, my various Senpai and I became quite close. During club hours, they would teach me. Outside of club hours, we are the same grade level, so we always go out and eat together after practice. I have learned that, while my American Karate club is close, Japanese clubs are part club, part business, and part fraternity. Already graduated Senpai even regularly come to practice. I have a feeling that I will count as part of their group for many years to come.
Chelsea Hayashi: Doshisha Tennis Circle + Kyodai Tennis Club
My biggest motivation and goal in studying abroad in Japan this semester was not only improving my Japanese, but also meeting and befriending Japanese students. I wanted to actually be a part of the Japanese world that someone my age in Japan experiences—not just one of a foreigner! As silly as it sounds, one thing I wanted to accomplish by the end of this semester was learn to text in Japanese. Yes, I could learn hundreds of kanji and grammar in class, but something as mundane as texting to meet up with a friend is something I could only learn by doing. It was these little, daily-life things that I wanted to gain from my CIP experience.
So, with all of this in mind, I chose to participate in a tennis circle at Doshisha as well as practice with the Kyodai tennis team. I’m on the varsity team at my home university, so this was not only a perfect way to continue playing a sport I love but also (hopefully) a way to stay in shape for when I return for my season.
I’ve learned a lot through my experiences, especially about the formalities and the ways of communication. Through the Japanese classes I have taken, I’d known about the importance and common use of keigo, but this was my first time utilizing it with people my age. Within Japanese colleges there is a strict and prevalent senpai/kohai relationship. In other words, “respect your elders” even if your “elders” are only one year ahead of you in college. Although in my experiences I was rarely treated as either a senpai or a kohai (I was just the abroad student who spoke enough Japanese but wasn’t Japanese), I still learned more about the appropriate levels of speech formality through my CIP than I ever had in a classroom. In getting in contact with various tennis circles, I had to send countless emails jam-packed with keigo, and I was surprised to receive emails back that had the same high formality—in America I feel like it’s bizarre to continue conversation with a peer in the same formal manner that you’d be talking to a professor. The Japanese peers I was with often called each other by last name (another distinct cultural distinction), although everyone still called me Chelsea-san. My Japanese peers were also more shy and reserved than I was used to, the high level of politeness off-putting to me at first, but I soon realized that this isn’t because they didn’t like me. Rather, Japanese interactions just start off a lot more formal and become more casual as they develop and strengthen. When a peer stops using keigo with you, that’s when you know they’ve accepted you as a friend.
I’m happy to say that through my CIP I’ve made friends, and I can now text in Japanese. However small of an accomplishment this may sound as, I feel good about it, and I’m grateful that my CIP was able to provide more learning than possible in any classroom.
Jeremy Chen: Ceramics Studio
After weeks of emailing various places, trying different things, and sorting out a few problems, I finally ended up at the Kamogama Ceramics Studio with a wheel to myself and all the tools, clays, and glazes I would need to keep me going for the next few months. Honestly speaking I was unprepared for the amount of freedoms they offered me considering the other studios I had emailed or visited did the exact opposite of that in the form of time, materials, or cost limitations. But since this place was offering everything, I figured it would be a waste to let this opportunity go by, and I jumped on the offer. Only five people worked at this ceramics studio-store-coffee shop hybrid, so I wasn’t expecting too much contact with people my age let alone people at all given that most of the staff worked the cafe. Fortunately the woman who worked the ceramics side of the business made it her informal job to be my ceramics instructor and go to person for questions regarding Japan. Through this relationship, I came to understand a lot about what Japanese people see in foreigners.
Communicating with my instructor was easy. I spoke enough Japanese to describe the things I wanted to do with my pieces, and in exchange, my instructor would teach me what the Japanese term for said action was. However, whenever the topic strayed away from ceramics, my instructor would immediately assume that I practically didn’t know anything about Japan. At times I appreciated this because of the depth of the explanations she would give me, but also I started to wonder what she actually thought of me. I would start a conversation about Christmas traditions in Japan, for example, and without fail, as she does every week, she would compliment my Japanese skills and then continue on about Christmas. My limited conversations with the other staff reinforced the idea that they were actually fixated on the fact that I was speaking Japanese to them even after weeks of coming to the studio.
Although not ideal, I prefer this over being spoken to as if I were a Japanese person. I actually sometimes play the foreigner card to ask really silly questions like “Why is a lot of anime about school?” or “Why do the pottery wheels spin the other way here?”. I feel like this small studio is more like a second homestay rather than a CIP project space although the people here never seem to get that my Japanese skills have gotten me through everyday life for the past few months. Just the other day one of the staff members complimented me on my ability to write in both hiragana and katakana even though my emails go far beyond that. Still, it’s been fun in its own way, and I’m going to miss everyone that helped me along the way. I’ll be sure to remember them through the pieces they helped me make.
Neena Kapur: Zazen Meditation at Daisen-in
I began the semester working with Deepest Kyoto, a locally based tour group that seeks to explore the more unknown parts of Kyoto. While it was a valuable experience, I ended up switching CIPs come March due to the time commitment required for Deepest Kyoto. The CIP I have been pursuing, as of late, is Zazen meditation lessons at Daitokuji temple. This experience has enriched my time here in Kyoto in so many ways, and I’ve learned so much from it (both in terms of Japanese culture, and in terms of good meditation practice!)
Every Sunday evening, I arrive at Daitokuji’s Daisen-in sub-temple, pay a small fee, and enter an atmosphere of peace and serenity. Needless to say, it’s a good place to de-stress after a long week, and mentally prepare for the week ahead. I usually arrive about 15 minutes early so I can spend some time wandering through the rock garden before settling into the meditation room, zenshitsu. Lessons are open to the public, so while I (and a few others) consistently attend, there are also new faces every week. There are usually 3-5 people in attendance, and the Daisen-in Buddhist Priest, obousan, leads the lessons.
But, what is Zazen meditation? Great question! Zazen meditation is the meditation technique that’s practiced within the Zen Buddhist sect, and it has a few unexpected surprises. While it begins the way most meditation I’ve done in the past does—legs crossed, back straight, eyes closed (or focused on a specific spot), and hand in a mudra—after a few minutes, the priest comes and hits everyone on the back with a long stick, keisaku, with the purpose to keep your mind sharp and awaken you from any sleepy thoughts. Don’t be scared! They hit hard, but, believe it or not, it really feels good, and it really improves meditation concentration. The amazing thing about it is the tradition surrounding how the series of strikes are delivered. On my first day, the obousan instructed me that, to receive a strike, you must bow to the obousan, who bows back, then you lean forward, and he delivers three precise strikes—right, left, left—on your back, for which you then sit up quickly and bow in thanks, then return to meditating. Throughout the entire hour-long session, you can request a strike by the keisaku at any time by putting your hands together.
After an hour long of non-stop meditation (let’s just say that I literally cannot feel my legs for a good five minutes after it), we all retire to the tea-room, and drink matcha and eat wagashi and chat for half an hour or so. This part of the evening is especially nice, because I have the opportunity to interact with the obousan, which is such a privilege and learning experience. Not only does it give me the chance to practice my keigo, but I also get to learn about Zen Buddhism (architecture, meditation practices, the history of the Daitokuji temple, rock garden art) directly from a Buddhist priest. Every evening is a really incredibly experience, because the obousan loves to get to know his pupils, and also loves to talk about history. So, I get a chance to tell him about myself and develop a relationship, while also gaining a unique perspective on Kyoto’s rich history.
This experience has been incredibly rewarding, and it saddens me that in just a few weeks, my venue for meditation will change from the beautiful Daisen-in temple, with cool breezes and rock gardens, to a messy bedroom. I’m thrilled to have had the opportunity to develop a relationship with and learn from a Zen Buddhist priest, and I hope to continue practicing the meditation techniques I learned this semester upon returning home.
カプル・ニーナ：Deepest Kyoto
京都は歴史的な町で、色々な大切な寺や神社や博物館があるが、京都に住んでいる人と京都に旅行する人は人気がある歴史的な場所だけ行く。でも、清水寺や金閣寺や伏見稲荷などだけではなく、京都では色々な他の面白くて豊な歴史がある場所もある。だから、「ディーペスト京都」というツアーの組織の目的はその観光名所ではない場所を探って、観光や日本人を案内してあげることだ。
私は山口吾往子さんというディーペスト京都の理事と三人の他のインターンとボランティアした。私達は無料でツアーに参加して、ブログのために、写真を取ったり、ノートを書いたりした。２月一日に「京都の町家」ツアーがあって、私達は古くて豊な歴史がある町家に行って、色々な面白い建築や町家の歴史について教えてもらった。そのツアーは経験的なツアーで、皆は昔の日本の技術を使ったり、色々な町家がみられながら歩いたり、町家の台所で料理した食べ物をたべたり出来た。
毎週水曜日、ツアーの企画や前のツアーの反省について会議があって、皆は他のツアーのアイディアを出し合ったり、前のツアーの改善点についてはなしたり、京都にある面白いイベントを探したりした。また、私達は会議の外にたくさんほかの準備や宿題がある：ブログや写真を取る事やFBで短い記事を書く事などしなければならなくて、忙しかった。だから、とてもいい経験で、色々な面白い分からない京都の歴史について学ぶことができた。
Sam Allen: Volunteer Circle
For my Spring semester CIP, I participated in a Volunteer Circle composed of students from all of Kyoto’s many universities. I knew that I wanted to get involved in some sort of volunteer activities, and that I would like to do so among peers of my own age. But what really caught my interest was their slogan, posted on their website. Through volunteer activities, this circle aims to “Create warm, family-like relationships with everyone we meet”. I was impressed by this sentiment, and realized I wanted to be a part of such a circle.
After attending the orientation meeting, I was a little nervous. This circle is only composed of Japanese university students, and I was worried that misunderstandings on my part would get in the way of their usual volunteer activities, and I wasn’t sure how kids at the elementary school we volunteered at would react to a foreigner.
However, when I went to try out the volunteer activities, I found that I didn’t have to worry all that much. Aside from reading kanji, I was able to communicate with everyone fairly well, and at my first activity, where we picked up trash around Kyoto with another volunteer group of elderly Kyoto locals, I was able to make friends with the other first timers.
Having officially joined the circle and assumed my nickname “Haribo”, I began attending the weekly planning meetings. There, we discussed our future volunteer plans, including the contents of the activities as well as assuring the safety of the participants. While I wasn’t able to contribute much at first, I enjoyed being a part of the discussion, and little by little, I started talking with other members.
My first activity at the elementary school went far better than expected. Rather than be nervous around me, a foreigner, one of the boys wanted to play with me exclusively, and, seeing us play, the other children joined in as well. The actual activity was a simple cooking lesson, where we made okonomiyaki and fruit punch. While some of the boys were a little rowdy during the explanation, everyone seemed to enjoy the activity. Under the guidance of the other member in my group, a senior in college, the kids cooperated with each other and everything went smoothly. From then on, I really felt part of the group. Little by little, I was approached by other members, and rather than feeling as an outsider in their group, I felt that I had a place to belong.
The second time around at the elementary school, I played tag with the kids, and then we went inside to make picture frames. While the kids in my group were really wild, and would often run around, distracting other groups, we somehow managed to keep everyone under control. It was a little troublesome, but a worthwhile experience.
At this point, I was invited to the “Graduation Party”, where the efforts of the seniors who would be graduating were acknowledged, and the underclassmen thanked the seniors for their guidance and support. I was glad to be there – while I never realized just how big the group was (over 50 members!), I had become close with one of the seniors, and was thrilled to be included.
Of course, this transition to a full-fledged member of the group did not take place immediately. I would try to make conversation with the people sitting next to me before meetings, and I made sure to remember names and chat with the people I had met. More than anything, my actual participation in the group really got things moving. Once the members saw that I was actively participating in the activities (and was able to communicate), they felt more at ease carrying on a conversation with me. It certainly wasn’t easy, but once I got a feel for the activities, continuing to participate every week allowed me to build connections with my peers.
I’ll be sad to have to leave so soon after finding such a wonderful group, but being a part of this circle even for a short while enriched my semester. Regardless of nationality, I was able to find a place where I was able to touch other people’s lives, even in a small way, and, in return, form warm, family-like relationships with my fellow volunteers. I know I’ll never forget my experiences in this circle, and I hope to keep in touch with the friends I’ve made.
サム・アレン：弓道と京都市ボランティアサークル
京都大学の近く武道館センターで、一学期間弓道のレッスンを受けたが、手をけがして学期続けられなくなったから、新しいCIPを探した。ボランティア活動をしたかったから、よく調べてから、選択肢を三つ見つけた。
まず、京都市青少年センターという色々な活動をしているところがあったので、そちらの説明会に行って、イベントやカフェでのボランティア活動のことをよく聞いた。しかし、場所は結構遠いし、ボランティアが必要な時間が合わなかったから、探し続けた。
先生からバザールカフェという場所でのボランティア活動を聞いた。同志社大学のすぐ傍にある雰囲気がいいカフェで、料理をしたりウェイターをしたりすることができる。そこでせいじさんと話して、今木曜日から日曜日まで自由にそこでボランティアできる。
また、京都市内のボランティアサークルの説明会に行って、今回すごく良いと思った。ボランティア活動は大体二つある。毎月二回小学生と楽しい習い事をすることと、他のは京都市内の掃除とか環境を守る活動だ。
Sam Allen: Kyudo
Although I intended to participate in more than one club activity, it turned out that my schedule only matched with my Kyudo lessons. But I’m very glad that I picked Kyudo as my CIP, because it’s been a very rewarding activity so far. When I first started, I was nervous. From my observations, Kyudo looked more like an art than anything else. Kawaguchi-sensei was very patient in explaining to us the eight basic steps to Kyudo. Before I was allowed to hold a bow, I had to know the names and actions associated with these steps. I spent the first two weeks practicing the kata, the form used in Kyudo. Once I had memorized these to sensei’s satisfaction, I was allowed to practice with a bow. The bows used in Kyudo are enormous. Really, they’re often taller than the archer using them. And it’s really tough to draw them back, too. Finally, during our third week of lessons, we were allowed to fire the bow for the first time. I’ll never forget that moment – sensei helped me draw the bow fully, and told me to take a shot. My heart was racing when I let go of the string. I think I was shaking afterwards too.
Since then, we’ve been practicing on the straw makiwara targets every time we come to the dojo. Little by little, I feel myself improving. At first, I was using a really weak bow – only 8kg. But I’ve worked myself up to an 11kg, and soon I’ll be able to handle something a little stronger. I’m getting better at controlling my aim, steadying my hands, and keeping correct posture while shooting. Best of all, I recently learned the trick to making the arrow fly in a straight line – a big deal, since the recoil of the bow had been altering the trajectory of my shots.
During my second month of lessons, I decided to buy my own uniform, including the glove. Making this investment means that Kyudo is more than just something I’m trying; it’s something I plan on doing forever, if possible. Not just because it’s expensive, but because it almost felt like an initiation. Going to a specialty Kyudo store over in Shiga-ken to get fitted for a glove and uniform, and pick out my own arrow meant that in a way, I’ve become a part of the dojo. I have, too. I often make small talk with the other practioners, usually somewhat older than me. Some of them greet me when I come in, and it’s nice to feel that I’m seen as less of an outsider.
Meeting other people through Kyudo is definitely harder than in other CIP activities, I think. People go there to practice, not really to socialize. That isn’t to say it’s impossible to make friends there; when I have the chance, I talk with other in the break room, or exchange a few words while practicing. There was one situation in which I introduced myself to a Japanese college student. Of course, the initial response is always very formal and not necessarily open to continuing conversation. What I’ve learned is that, by being in the dojo as often as possible and making constant effort to communicate with others, little by little they’ll open up to you.
The end of this semester ends on a high note in Kyudo as well. Before the year ends, I will likely get my first chance to shoot at a real target, much smaller and farther than the practice makiwara. I don’t know how I’ll feel when I do it – I could be relaxed, due to all the practice I’ve put in, but I might get as nervous as I was the first time I shot a bow. Only time will tell.