Benji Hix: Private Koto Lessons (Part 2)

This semester, I continued my koto lessons from last semester. It all started with my first ever performance with all the rest of my teacher’s students, numbering around 50 people total. The recital was 2 parts: first, various songs performed by different groups of students, and second, 3 songs that featured her. It was a loooooong night – the rehearsal was at least 6 hours, and the performance itself was around 3 total. But, it was a fun experience, especially since I can tell people that I performed “Let it Go” in an ensemble of traditional Japanese instruments. I also got to meet lots of interesting people, including a geiko, my teacher’s very old mother, and even a nice fellow who took me on a date and bought me socks! After that performance, I took a short break from rehearsing, and went back after a few weeks to discover my technique had deteriorated greatly. The solution to this was to, in theory, practice 2-3 times a week, but due to my health and business I averaged once a week… oops! However, I quickly relearned what I had forgotten and began practicing new music to perform at the closing ceremony for KCJS.

After one semester of practicing, I considered switching my CIP – having performed, it was the perfect time to make my leave. However, my teacher was so sweet that I couldn’t resist when she asked if I was willing to keep practicing with her. Furthermore, she invited me to lots of random outings – such as visiting cherry blossoms and seeing random performances around the city. We actually texted decently often, which at one point resulted in an embarrassing but funny texting interaction on March 2nd (3月2日, the Japanese is important here) that reminded me not to misread 4月 as 4日:

Her: “Benji, I know a good spot to see the blossoms around April (4月), would you like to go see?”

Me: “Sure, class ends at 11:30 so I’m free after that!” [I was thinking she said 4日]

Her: “…Right… Don’t your classes end around the 20th of April…?”

[LATER, ON 4日]

Me: “I believe so!”

Me: “Today it’s raining… what will you do?”

Me: “Oh, whoops… I misunderstood”

Me: “Nevermind”

Her: “It is raining today, but what will we do…?”

My friends and I all had a good laugh about my incompetence at reading kanji, though I never asked her what she made of that interaction.

Overall, I enjoyed my CIP this semester just as much as last semester. After working with my teacher for so long, we definitely reached a level of comfortability such that I never felt nervous going to practice like I did last semester. Furthermore, my skill has improved to a level that I can actually feel proud of – enough that I plan to look for koto teachers once I go back to America! For anyone considering doing instrument lessons at all, I urge them to do the full year if possible. It really is worth the investment to practice with someone for a full year!

Julia Selch: Doshisha Hiking Circle

For my Community Involvement Project (CIP) this semester, I continued to participate in Doshisha’s Hiking Club. Because Japanese students were on spring break for a few weeks of the semester, we were not able to meet as often as we did in the fall. Nevertheless, on the weeks that everyone was able to assemble in our club room for our Saturday afternoon meetings, we would usually head for the trails of the mountains surrounding Kyoto or go on training runs in Gosho, the imperial palace that sits right by Doshisha’s campus, or by the river near campus.

More than just working out and going on hikes together because we had to, it felt like we all were interested in staying active because we all really wanted to. I noticed this in particular this semester, because many of the club members showed up for our meetings despite being on vacation. Even though many of them had other obligations during their spring break, they still made the effort to come out every Saturday. If I could place why this was so, it’s because they all valued the community we’ve built and all wanted to see as much of Kyoto as possible by foot.

I’ve spent practically every Saturday this year with the hiking club. I have really enjoyed these meetings, because it’s felt like I’ve been part of a team, despite not being Japanese, and despite not speaking perfect Japanese all of the time either.

So, if you’re looking to stay active and to be a part of a great community, check out this club!

Grace Bologna: ECC English Tutoring

My CIP from last semester culminated into four days of policy building on the sustainability of journalism at the All Japan Model United Nations Conference over winter break. As I returned for a second semester of KCJS, I decided to change my CIP from a school activity to a more volunteer-based project. Thus, I began tutoring English through a previous host mother’s ECC English class.

After nearly five months of non-stop Japanese lessons, becoming an instructor rather than a student was certainly a change, as was speaking English in a classroom setting. However, I powered through and worked to instruct to my best ability despite realizing that living in Japan had managed to erode my grammatical skills.

I had previously spent a summer in Kyoto as a high school sophomore, nearly five years ago now. I stayed with a small host family just west of Doshisha while commuting to a Japanese language school daily. I’d kept in touch over the past few years, and when I reached out to ask if my host mother would be willing to accept a volunteer assistant teacher, she seemed excited. We met in January to discuss lessons plans, games to play with students and how to prepare them for an ominous upcoming English conversation test in February. I returned the next week to begin helping run classes.

Over my time at ECC I worked with a variety of students, ranging from second year elementary schoolers to third year middle schoolers. I was incredibly impressed by all of their dedication, many arriving to English lessons after both regular school and juku cram school. They did their best each lesson and honestly inspired me to work a bit harder myself.

A typical lesson would last a little over an hour. Students would come in and warm up with a short conversation exercise, like stating their favorite sweets, sports, or season. We’d then begin work from their textbooks, typically covering a conversation piece followed by a series of questions detailing the scene. We also sang quite a few songs and played more interactive games like ‘Simon Says” or ‘Heads Up.’ Finally we’d go over homework and prepare for the upcoming speaking text before going home.

I was surprised by how rigid the language study was. Even organic activities like playing games or speaking about weekend plans seemed carefully scripted. Perhaps most rehearsed was interview test prep. Students were expected to introduce themselves by name and then reveal exactly three facts about themselves. Acceptable facts were outlined to include school, hometown, age, and favorite sport. The students would then respond to a few prepared questions (What time do you go to bed? Do you like steak? Etc.) Before pointing to certain objects in a picture.

I was struck by the differences in this language study and my own experience learning Japanese. I began taking Japanese classes in high school, and despite being twice the age of some of the ECC students, remember playing far more games and interacting naturally albeit in fractured Japanese. As I result, I gained far more confidence with Japanese, seeing it as a free-flowing language rather than a series of acceptable answers and responses. The difference was apparent. Simply changing questions slightly (What time do you wake up? Do you like sushi?) rather than the previous questions seemed to stump students. I began to more clearly see the cultural pattern of Japanese adults who have spent multiple years learning English yet shy away from foreigners. Learning English in a series of set phrases is relatively easy, but any change to the existing structure tends to leave you reeling.

I have to say that interacting with the students was challenging at first. Most of them were incredibly surprised to see me (very distinctively not Japanese) in the classroom and grew nervous. I think at the start of my time, the students certainly distrusted me and as a result were quieter in class. They weren’t quite sure if I spoke Japanese or if I would be harsh towards their English. Yet over time, I feel I got through to many of the students. They grew more relaxed in my presence and more willing to engage with me by choice rather than through coercion. I was happy to provide the foreign exposure necessary for speaking English with foreigners. I hope that the positive interactions with me will lead those students to be more outgoing as they interact with native English speakers in the future.

I’d definitely recommend working as an English tutor while at KCJS. For one, the activity is fun and rewarding in its own right. Building relationships with Japanese elementary school students is a unique experience and one that will vastly improve your colloquial Japanese. However, more than that, I think it’s important to see if you enjoy teaching English. Many American college students studying Japanese hold vague plans to participate in JET as an assistant language teacher. In my experience, many JETs go into Japan without real knowledge of what teaching English is like. Students are shy and the majority of the work is more about coaxing them from their shells than intensive English study. It’s not a good fit for everyone, and teaching English as a CIP is a wonderful opportunity to check if it’s for you. I’d highly recommend everyone give it a shot.

James Hilton: Kyokushin Chronicles, Vol. II

OSU!

Much has transpired since my previous Kyokushin Chronicles update.

Previously, I wrote about my revelations regarding integrating various aspects of different fighting styles, walking the taboo cusp of aggression, and aspiring toward balance—all internal changes that were occurring in me due to the Kyokushin Kaikan environment. This time, I want to look outward and detail my social observations.

Throughout my time at the dojo, my social status has changed, but one thing has remained constant: I’m a gaijin. That’s not too significant: one of the esteemed sensei is Polish; and one of my senpai hails from Australia. The factor of pertinence is, even when compared to the other, white foreigners, I alone stand out. I am, in effect, doubly gaijin. To this day, children, and even some adults, that have seen me week-in and week-out cast lengthy—often shameless—stares (even when their attention truly ought to be elsewhere). To top it off, I was a white belt, which in Kyokushin is not the bottom-of-the-ranks position that one would expect. No, it is less than that; it literally signifies nothing.

Last month, I took the promotion exam. In preparation for the exam, I increased my time in the dojo tremendously. Two of my black belt senpai—the prodigious pair that we refer to as the Twins—took notice of my efforts and were kind enough to grace me with their private tutelage. Under their instruction, I achieved the goals I set out for myself.  Moreover, there was another, unexpected development. I was able to forge personal relationships with the Dynamic Duo; and in turn, others became more willing to socialize with, and even support, me. After passing the promotion exam and ascending two levels, I became a legitimate member of the kaikan community—and was conferred newfound respect and camaraderie. My relatively elevated standing has served to make the dojo a more welcome environment for me. It does not erase my so readily apparent gaijin-ness, but it does provide a counterbalance of sorts. To be honest, though, I have been privileged in my own right from the very start.

Due to my (supposed) ability to converse in Japanese, my status as a student at Doshisha University, and the weight of the University of Chicago reputation, I have always had great favor with Shihan—the kaikan head. His approval has granted me a special, privileged status among my peers that significantly eased my burden of social integration. Over the last month, I have learned much about the hierarchy in the dojo and my place within it. For all its quirks, it has been a remarkable journey.

With my impending return to America, recent weeks have been a period of reflection. My time at the dojo has been my most important experience in Japan. It is the place where I established the lion’s share of my most treasured bonds. While I am not one for much sentiment, I can say without hesitation: I will miss the Kyokushin Kaikan.

OSU!

Tyler Logan: Continuing to Make Kimono in Kyoto

This semester I was able to continue my kimono making lessons from last semester and learn more about traditional Japanese garment construction techniques. After trekking to my Sensei’s house every Friday afternoon this semester, I have finished sewing one whole yukata by hand and my Sensei and I have began working on a haori as well. Pursuing these lessons has allowed me to work on my Japanese conversation skills outside of the classroom and given new directions and techniques for my own artistic practice in the future.

Since I first began studying under my Sensei last semester, I have gradually gotten better at sewing with my hands. I’m still not as fast as the experienced hands of my Sensei, but I can tell that now I can stitch straight much more easily and even do harded stitches like hidden seams much more easily. I also now have a much better idea of how kimono are constructed, and the technical tricks and manipulations of the fabric that are used to achieve the distinct drapery and shapes of kimono. This work has given me a valuable different perspective on how to put clothes together, and I’m excited to apply this knowledge to my own projects and experiments in the future.

Meeting with my Sensei every week has also allowed me to work on my Japanese conversation. Though when I first met him we had a hard time communicating, as I’ve continued to study and improve my own Japanese I’ve been able to understand my Sensei’s accent better and become more conversational. Our chats are a bit light, as we are usually both working on our own sewing, but I feel proud that over the past seven months I’ve gradually become able to communicate effectively. I’m glad I had the opportunity to take these lessons.

Adam Lowinger: Doshisha Hiking club

I continued with the Hiking club from the fall term. Because of this, there is really not a whole lot of new content that can be added.

Consequently, I’ll just repeat the basic outline and experiences from my previous post. In general, the group only goes on a hike once a month. We once again went to Diamonji, due to it being a relatively easier hike. This allowed for the new study abroad students (both from KCJS and other programs) to get a feel for it. Other meetings were just running along the river (about 2-3 km) to build endurance.

Most of the communication in Japanese was done before and after the meetings since no one really wants to talk while running.  However, I got their early a lot. This allowed for me to play video games and talk about anime with the other early birds. After the runs is when they would talk about upcoming events and hikes. Both sections proved to be a good way to practice casual speech in Japanese.

Outside meetings, the club hosted several drinking and all you can eat parties, which were basically as informal as could possibly be reached.

So if you want to see some good scenery and have a more casual CIP, it’s a good experience.

James Hilton: Kyokushin

For my CIP, I chose to practice Kyokushin–a full-contact form of karate. Coming to Japan, I pre-designated two martial arts that I planned to study: Judo and Kyokushin. I had my Judo experience over the summer in Hokkaido, so Kyokushin was the target for my time in Kyoto.

OSU!

Sensei and senpai have both recommended that I use a more “relaxed” or “loose” style during close exchange of blows. Due to my boxing training, I use more closed-off stance–as to minimize damage incurred. I prefer to employ a parry-and-counterstrike fighting style, but Kyokushin demands preemption over calculated defense. While I am not completely sold on this strategy, I can definitely see it’s value. I pursue efficiency from the perspective of self-preservation; Kyokushin aims for effectiveness–obtain victory. I seek to disable the opponent while sustaining as little damage as possible. The Kyokushin way is to subdue with overwhelming force, and allows for damage taken–so long as it makes way a greater allotment in return. An efficient fighter wishes to minimize risks, which leads one to sacrifice opportunities to win. In other words, in Kyokushin, offense is defense; but I am of the mind that defense produces offense.The effective combatant does what must be done to triumph and considers the self-preservation aspect secondarily. Due to the associated trade-offs, there are circumstance under which either approach is superior and the other will lead to ruin.

During my most recent practice, I was finally able to utilize a more “relaxed” and Kyokushin-y offense (For an example: There is no evasion in Kyokushin and punches to the head are illegal–a considerable tactical conundrum for one who relies on those methods heavily) in combination with a conscious defensive effort. I am proud of this development because 1) previous attempts to adapt to the Kyokushin way only resulted in impaired performance and subsequent injury (the blending of multiple disciplines with contrary principles while in the heat of battle is no easy feat, I assure you); 2) relaxed focus leads to flow; and 3) I was able to construct a holistically more effective–and surprisingly more efficient–style for myself. My establishing a middle ground between defensive and offensive orientations, I get the benefits of both without much consequence.
My default fighting style is the combination of a number of disciplines. Never before have I had such trouble learning and incorporating into my own style another art. The issue is a mental one. All of my life, I was taught restraint in martial arts. As a once angry and aggrieved young fellow, I can admit that I needed that centering. Kyokushin forces me to walk the cusp of aggression that was always taboo. It makes me uncomfortable; and that is the reason why I must conquer it. A true warrior has balance. It is time for me to once again become comfortable in the role of aggressor–something that us young Black men are taught to avoid if we desire social mobility, lest we be abased as scourge and menace.
OSU!

Julia Selch: Doshisha Hiking Club

For my Community Involvement Project (CIP) this semester, I participated in Doshisha’s Hiking Club. Our weekly Saturday meetings would usually consist of either traversing the trails that the mountains surrounding Kyoto have to offer or going on training runs in Gosho, the imperial palace that sits right by Doshisha’s campus. I really enjoyed these Saturday meetings, because they allowed me to stay active while also allowing me to see a bit more of Kyoto.

The most surprising aspect of this hiking club, to me, was that the members were overwhelmingly male. Including myself, there were only two or three women at most at each meeting. From my experience with hiking clubs back in the States, I am used to more female participants. This made me wonder whether or not hiking in Japan was a slightly gendered activity. Nevertheless, this did not inhibit me from feeling comfortable in the club – everyone was friendly and willing to talk!

I really loved being a part of this club. I liked challenging myself to get to know the Japanese members better, even if sometimes my words came out a bit jumbled. And so, if you’re looking to get active and to see what Kyoto has to offer, I recommend checking out this club!

Benji Hix: Private Koto Lessons

For my CIP, I chose to take private koto lessons. This seemed like a natural choice, given that it had some relation to my major, music. Every week, I took the subway to a little building called the Greenwich House hidden away in downtown Kyoto and practiced with my teacher in a cozy little room full of koto, shamisen, and shakuhachi. It always felt a little magical; the room was lit entirely with lamps scattered around the room, and every square inch of the room was covered; the floor was laden with instruments and furniture, the walls with pictures and newspaper articles, and every spare surface with tuners and sheet music. From the first time I stepped into the room while an ensemble was practicing, it seemed like the perfect environment to make music.

My biggest concern with picking this CIP was the “private” aspect; I was afraid of missing out on the opportunity of making Japanese friends through my CIP. It was a very pleasant surprise, then, when upon entering my second lesson I learned that every lesson would be a group lesson with at least four or five other students, all of whom were Obaachan and Ojiisan! Each week I seemed to meet at least 5 new people, and everyone was exceedingly kind and patient. Learning a new instrument is a lot less stressful when it feels like you constantly have 5 grandmas cheering you on and calling you cute the entire time! On the average day, we would practice for about an hour, then head to dinner as a big group, and this was where the majority of language practice occurred. Through these dinners, I picked up many little tidbits of Japanese culture––the insistence of paying for other people, the unspoken rule of only pouring alcohol for other people, the amount of crazy antics that Obaachan can get away with, and plenty more. Furthermore, having only ever had female teachers, my comprehension of elderly male speech was admittedly terrible before getting the weekly practice provided by my fellow students. These dinners were my favorite part of the entire CIP experience, and erased any doubts I had about picking it.

And of course, getting to learn a traditional Japanese instrument was an amazing opportunity! From a music theory perspective, it’s provided me with some new insight into traditional Japanese pentatonic scales, and the various chordal progressions possible without access to the traditional 8 note scale. One of the most enjoyable parts of playing for Koto for me is the ease with which one can retune the 13 strings; just like a guitar, one can tune the strings to whatever scale one pleases, but the process is significantly faster than any other traditional string instrument, and is done simply by moving small plastic stands up and down the body of the instrument. The sheet music for koto is also completely different from standard western notation; rather than notes on a staff, the music is completely represented through kanji inside of boxes. It provided a real challenge, forcing myself to think of rhythms and chords in a drastically different visual style. Overall, learning Koto has provided me not only with interesting new insights into music, but also with a plethora of funny and interesting stories thanks to all the fun dinners! I would recommend this CIP to anyone with any sort of instrument experience; it’s truly a rare opportunity.

Adam Lowinger: Doshisha Hiking Circle

For my CIP, I decided to join the Doshisha Hiking Circle (official name is along the lines of “circle for people that love to hike”). My reason for joining was simple: I wanted an extracurricular that would provide a way to stay in shape. Of all the various sports I can play due to being partially blind, the Hiking Circle met at the most convenient time and location. Since it also would allow me to see Japan and get some fresh air on the weekends, I joined as soon as possible.

The meetings themselves are very calm and relaxed. Usually, I show up about 20 minutes early and get a few rounds of video games in with the other early members. This is a good way to practice casual speech and informal grammar. When the meeting proper starts, we check the weather. If it is raining, we do some drills in the stairs. If it is a clear day, we do some running near the campus. The point of these drills is to build endurance for when we do go on a hike. That happens about once a month, with those meetings taking up a good half of the day as opposed to the usual two hours. The length, however, it not just the hike, but of the shopping and sometimes dinner that we do afterwards.

Moreover, the members themselves are very accommodating. While I did use (or rather attempted) to use the correct polite speech style when I introduced myself, I learned in hindsight that this was probably not necessary. In general, they welcome any study abroad student (there are four others with me) if you routinely show up and keep in contact. The President Fuji-san (yes, that’s his name), was very helpful by always carrying an electronic dictionary to make sure I understood both important hiking instructions necessary for my survival and the college student vocabulary the members use. Later, I learned that he carried this because he is trying to learn English. As a result, we are helping each other learn new languages.

Ultimately, I would say the Hiking circle is a good way to develop an understanding of Japanese culture.  Be it the simple “こにちは” s to fellow hikers on the trail or the trash talk in games of smash, you learn how casual Japan works and feels. In addition, I learned about various social gatherings. This ranged from participating in a 飲み会 (a drinking party) to going to a hot spring. In each instance, I learned the procedure and etiquette for each event.  Joining this club has made me smarter, happier, and healthier during my time in Japan.