Grace Bologna: Model United Nations

For my fall semester community involvement project, I was extremely fortunate to continue an activity I deeply enjoy at my home school. I joined the Kyoto branch of Japan’s Model UN competition cycle. The branch includes Doshisha University, Kyoto University, and Ritsumeikan University, housing about forty college students. Through the organizations, I was able to gain a first-hand look at the inner workings of MUN in Japan as well as improve my own skills as an international delegate.

I come from an institution that takes the activity quite seriously. I spent nearly twenty hours a week on Model UN activities at the peak of competition season and a failure to win an award at competitions can end your career on the team. Our hard work shows—UChicago has been ranked number one in North America from 2011-2016. A slip due to negligence and changing competition style dropped us to 5th place in 2017, although reapplication has put us back at #1 for the start of the 2018 cycle. Needless to say, I was ready to dive into a similar level of competition in Japan.

What I found was quite different. The first shock was the level of collaboration between students from different institutions. Within the Kyoto branch, Ritsumeikan, Kyo-dai and Doshisha students share research and training sessions. The branch also hosts small simulations of topics large competitions will discuss. That is to say, the Kyoto branch may host a simulation of a committee on refugees when a national conference will offer the same topic a month later. From an American competition perspective, this would be near-suicidal. If a student from a different institution found my plans for committee before the actual competition, I’d be forced to scrap all of those plans and start anew. Such an issue seemed barely on the periphery of the Kyoto branch.

Yet there were many hidden benefits from the relaxed style of competition. The most glaring difference between the American and Japanese competitions spheres was the presence of women. American Model UN has a distinct male focus, with a ratio of about three men to every one woman. In Japan, the ratio was near equal if not more heavily tilted towards women. I was very interested in what tactics made female participation easier or more enticing on the Japanese side. Two of my friends (both women) told me they had never thought of it. Nothing in their experience on the team made it harder for them to compete than their male counterparts. I believe this may directly linked to the inherent lack of team competition. Japanese college students compete as individuals at nationwide conferences. This means you could be paired up with a student from another school, or in my case, even another country. Since there’s no team honor to defend, participants can focus solely on their own growth and knowledge. I believe America could take a lesson.

I would advise any future American participants in Japanese Model UN to keep an open mind. If you have competed in America, the laxness of Japanese competition will surely feel inadequate. However, enjoy the increased range of participation loosening competition allows participants. Develop yourself as a delegate, and take your time learning new vocabulary and building new friendships. You may not return to your American team with new skills, but you will certainly return with a greater understanding of the internationality of MUN.

Tyler Logan: Kimono Making Lessons

While living in Kyoto this year, I had the opportunity to get involved with life in Kyoto outside of my classes at Doshisha by taking lessons on how to sew kimonos. Because I’m an art student with an interest in clothing and textiles, when I came to Japan I knew I wanted to study kimono making. For that reason, I’ve had a great time so far taking my lessons. Over this semester, both my sewing and Japanese skills have gradually improved. I look forward to continuing my lessons next semester as well.

In the old days, all kimono were sewn by hand, so when I started taking my lessons, I also had to learn how to sew by hand. I had made clothes with a sewing machine for art classes before, but I had never made anything just by sewing by hand. However, my Sensei was able to sew with his hands as fast as a machine. I haven’t become that fast, but with practice I have become more skilled in working with the thread and fabric with my hands. The skills I’ve acquired through my CIP will definitely help me with taking my artistic work in new directions when I return to America.

During our lessons, I was also able to practice speaking Japanese with my Sensei. From cutting, to measuring, to folding, to ironing, to sewing, I always had to keep close to my teacher to know what to do next with the cloth. I didn’t know a lot of Japanese words related to clothes when we started, and my teacher’s accent is a little thick, but gradually I became able to both understand and converse with my teacher about his craft. I’ve discovered so much about the minute details and hidden facets of Japanese sewing, and I couldn’t have gotten these insights without the ability to talk with my teacher in Japanese. I’m definitely glad I was able to take these lessons.

Alexander Hall: Kyoto University Basketball Circle

This semester, I continued my CIP from last quarter, which was Free Club, a basketball circle at Kyoto University. I spent the semester getting closer to my friends from the previous semester, while also getting to know people that I hadn’t known quite as well. Through the semester, I met alumni (which are called OB in Japanese – short for Old Boys), older members which only came occasionally, and, when the school year changed, new members who were coming in from high school. As such, I got to sort of experience all of the differences in the relationships between Japanese university students based off of age.

The thing I focused on most was levels of politeness in speech, which is what I struggle most with in Japanese, behind only kanji. Perhaps what I found most surprising was not the differences in speech style per se (as in sentence endings, etc.), but the differences in content. For the most part, members of the same year did not really filter things out when talking to each other. They made fun of each other, made stupid or dirty jokes with each other, and overall talked like most guys do in the United States on basketball courts. If members were separated by a year, the older members would not filter very much, but the younger members would be careful to tone down when making fun of the older members. What I found most interesting, however, was the differences in speaking between members separated by two or more years. Of course, the younger members were very polite, making sure not to appear rude. I expected the older members to not filter at all – however, they were extraordinarily nice to younger members. A fourth year, who would crack jokes with third years who made mistakes, would often give advice to first years when they did the same thing,

My advice for future students would be to pay attention to these sorts of things. Everyone knows about です・ます and 敬語, but in reality, we all make mistakes with these and are often forgiven. However, we are not really taught which sort of content is appropriate, even though this is just as important. Therefore, I would suggest to future student to use my experience as a rough outline for university circles, but also to pay close attention to interactions between differently aged members in order to navigate these things.

Elizabeth Smith: Nihon Buyou and Ballet

 

This semester, I have continued with both of my CIP activities: Ballet and Nihon Buyou. Unlike last semester, when I was primarily focused on acclimating into a new environment, I started this semester feeling comfortable with both of my CIPs. This allowed me to delve deeper into both communitiesscreen-shot-2017-03-31-at-19-57-45

In Nihon Buyou, I am now able to pick up on details that largely escaped me at the beginning. This is in part because my language skills have improved dramatically. Last semester was essentially survival mode: I was only focused on understanding the gist of what my teacher had to say, and had little room to pick up on details or nuance. This semester, I know her better and am more familiar with the repertory that I am studying. This has allowed me to learn more about the history of Nihon Buyou, its links to the Kabuki tradition, and the different schools. For example, both last semester and this semester, my teacher has given me tickets to see Nihon Buyou performed in Pontocho. (This semester, I got to see her dance with her sister!) Compared to last semester I was much more aware of the context what I was seeing, and was able to ask better questions afterwards.


In terms of ballet, I feel like I have become a much more involved member of the community. Last semester, due to a minor injury and the process of adjusting to life in a foreign country, I typically went home right after classes. This semester, because I was more comfortable with life in Kyoto and my injury has healed, I have started staying to wear pointe shoes for an extra half hour after one of my two classes every week. This has given me a better opportunity to get to know the other girls much better. Whereas girls that dance together for several days in a week in America tend to become very close, I at first thought that the atmosphere at K.Classic ballet was much less social. However, spending more time around the girls, I’ve realized that while the dressing room is too small to talk much before and after class, they do have a strong community. They have been incredibly inclusive towards me as well! For example, when one of the girls brought Valentines’ chocolate for everyone, she included me as well! Additionally, girls who I was once intimidated to speak to have approached me to start conversations about my pointe shoes or my training in the US. Little gestures like these have made me increasingly like I have become part of a community.

Zachary Chapman : 室町児童館 Child Care Center

For my community involvement activity I volunteered at the muromachi jidoukan, an after-school center, where I played with children and taught English. The kids quickly took a liking to me, and everyday I would be tackled by a gaggle of them the moment I walked in.

    I noticed a lot of things while working at the jidoukan. First and foremost, was the independance displayed by the students. The kids were between the ages of 6 and 9 but displayed a far greater ability to solve problems for themselves compared to American children. For example, during snack time, Japanese students are expected to set up their own tables, get their own food, and pour drinks for each other. Teachers are essentially not involved. Also, when students had a conflict with each other, they were generally expected to be able to solve it on their own. Once, a student was fighting with another student over a toy, and the student went and asked the teacher for help. Instead of resolving the fight, the teacher asked the students about how they could resolve amongst themselves.

    Another time, a student destroyed a toilet. Us teachers had no clue who did it, so we had a student assembly, and one of the teachers talked about how the destruction of the toilet was a burden on everybody else. Here speech went along well with Japanese ideas of communal collectivism. In the end she asked the student to give him/herself up because they owed it to the jidoukan community as a whole. I thought this was quite interesting and different to how American teachers would have handled the situation.

In closing, I had a very interesting time working at the jidoukan. Working with Japanese kids enlightened me concerning a lot of facets of Japanese society.

Isaac Jemielita Tennis!

For my spring semester, I chose to play tennis at a local tennis group called Pacorn tennis. They meet everyday except Wednesday at courts nearby Omiya station. Because the most people come on the weekend, I would go every Friday and play tennis. This was good because usually people picked a regular day to go so I got to know several people over the course of the semester. I played a bit of tennis in high school but hadn’t had much of a chance to play in college. The level of play was just right for me and I have gotten a bit better at tennis and Japanese from doing it.

The way it’s structured is always the same. For an hour and a half, everyone does drills together. The remaining time is spent playing doubles. Since there a lot of people (sometimes as many as fifty people come!) and not many useable courts, there were a lot of chances to catch my breath and chat in Japanese.
One thing that happened every week is that at least one person would express concern about the way I was dressed. Everyone wears long sleeved atheistic shirts and work out pants. And a hat sometimes. I can’t really play tennis in pants, so I always wear shorts. Someone always asks me if I’m cold. Then I say no and they look at me like I’m an idiot who will probably die of hypothermia or something. Playing tennis in Japan was a great choice. It was a fun way to get exercise and meet Japanese people.

Meave McIver-Sheridan: Koto lessons

This semester I continued to attend group koto lessons with Iwasaki sensei. We were joined by two more KCJS students, giving us the chance to work on learning and preparing to perform a piece together. Although I have been learning to play the koto, our new classmates took up the shamisen. Because of this I was able to learn a bit about the shamisen and even got the chance to try playing the shamisen once.

One major difference with my previous musical training, having only been exposed to the Western musical tradition before this, lies in the way the instruments are tuned. For example, although the shamisen reminds me of the violin in form, its tuning changes depending on the piece. The same is true for the koto. This reminded me of the way wind instruments in Western style orchestras sometimes receive music that has been transposed to different keys, although the instruments retain their standard tunings. With the koto, the tuning of the strings changes while the musical notation remains constant. While this makes the music much easier to read, because the notation is relative it has made understanding the music theory much more difficult.

Another characteristic of the music that I have noticed involves the way it is arranged. Most of the pieces that I have heard, even more difficult ones, are more sparsely arranged than much Western ensemble music. The spaces and pauses are more integral to the music, I think, than in music I am more familiar with. Only the shakuhachi and the vocal line provide sustained melodies, while the stringed koto and shamisen are plucked. This allows for longer spaces of time to elapse between end of one note and the start of the next.

One of the most pleasant aspects of this semester’s weekly koto lessons has been our sensei’s hospitality. Every week she provides hot tea and sometimes sweets or other snacks. Many weeks she also invites the students who are able to attend out to dinner. This welcoming atmosphere gives a homey atmosphere to Iwasaki sensei’s studio, making it easy for her students to look forward to returning each week.

Maeve McIver-Sheridan: Koto Lessons

Right from the start of KCJS, I knew that I wanted my CIP to involve music. While not particularly accomplished, I have played the violin since I was very young. I found it hard to imagine my life without orchestra and lessons every week. Because of this, I initially contacted the Doshisha orchestra, but found that their rehearsal schedule conflicted with my own schedule. Although I was disappointed, I was soon presented with another opportunity. A friend who is excellent at the Chinese version of the koto had found a KCJS recommended koto instructor whom we could take lessons with.

Although I did not expect to have the opportunity to take lessons on a new instrument, my experience learning to play the koto has been very rewarding. Having played only Western classical music in the past, I have found that learning an instrument that is so different from what I have been used to has stretched my understanding of music in many different ways. One aspect that I found particularly challenging was the music notation. Music for the koto is transcribed using numbers denoting the 13 strings of the instrument. Because there are only 13 strings, there are a limited number of notes available with any given tuning. The music can, however, require the pitch of a string to be changed by a half step or a whole step by depressing the string to varying degrees. Although the tuning of the pieces did not come very naturally to me, I nonetheless found myself relying on my ear more than I do with Western music notation, which I know how to read much better. I hope that this ear training will help me to become more acclimated to Japanese music harmonies as I continue to practice the koto.

One other interesting aspect of my time spent at koto lessons involved the other people we took lessons with. For the first couple of weeks, we joined a large group of adult students who variously played koto, shamisen, and shakuhachi. These folks were very kind and welcoming, helping demonstrate techniques for me on the first day and eventually taking us out to dinner on one occasion. One thing that surprised me was how easygoing and approachable our sensei could be, while still presenting rigorous material and expecting our best work. There were also several younger students who joined us at varying times, including one young woman who proved to be a very patient and understanding teacher when she stood in for our regular sensei once or twice. All in all, I believe that studying the koto has been a very positive experience for me and I am enthusiastic to continue next semester.

Isaac Jemielita: Shogi

I did not know what to expect when I started my CIP. When I was in high school, I played some chess so I thought it would be fun to learn how to play Japanese chess- shogi. The first time I went to the shogi room, this tiny little room called a box, I opened the door to find a single person sleeping on the floor. Not wanting to disturb him, I slowly closed the door and took down the contact information for the club. That was a weird introduction to the shogi club but was pretty representative of the club as a whole. The atmosphere of the club is very relaxed- people come and go as they please, they play shogi as the want, and generally just want a place to kick back with friends.

When I started learning shogi, I had two problems. The first problem was that I had no idea how to play shogi. This was further compounded by my inability to read the kanji on the pieces. The second problem was that chess strategy is hard enough to understand without trying to figure out what is being said in Japanese. Somehow, I figured out how to play the game after a couple of thoroughly embarrassing interactions. I’m still getting trashed by all the other shogi players but it’s okay because if I ever want to relax and play a quiet game of shogi, I know where to go.

Alex Hall : Kyoto University Basketball Circle

I joined Kyoto University’s Free Club, a basketball circle, thinking that because I had been playing basketball since I was young, it would allow me to make connections with people based off of common ground. This was a correct choice in my eyes, as it felt natural to play and I could focus my energies on making friends in between scrimmages. While many KCJS students probably want to delve into something “new” and “Japanese”, I would suggest choosing something natural as their CIP, so they too can make valuable connections instead of focusing on learning something new.

Another thing that I feel I did correctly in the past few months with Free Club is saying “yes” to as many invitations as possible. Because of this, I got put into various Line group chats, grabbed meals with various members of the circle, and even got to go to the Autumn Camp, a group trip to Adogawa. The whole point of the CIP is to become a member of some community, and I believe the only way to truly become a member of any group is to interact with them as much as possible.

One of my fears in joining Free Club was navigating the complex Japanese hierarchy revolving around age. And while this exists (first-years always mop the court and most of my closest friends in the circle are my fellow second-years), it was not as strict as I believed. Those older than me would forgive me the occasionally omission of さん, and those younger than me didn’t really seem to be afraid of asking me to rotate faster on defense, etc. That being said, I would caution those joining university circles about the delicate balance you have to strike when it comes to these sorts of things. On one hand, I wanted to get to know everyone, and would try to talk to everyone from first-years to Ph.D. students. On the other hand, I had to be cautious of appearing rude. As a foreign student, I’m sure I got some more leeway on this issue than most, but at the same time I feel like I still made some missteps that I hope future students can avoid. My advice would be to use the です/ます form most of the time, until you feel certain that the other party is comfortable enough with you for you to stop using it. That is probably the most important thing – to not judge things from your own static point of view, but to try and see them through the eyes of the other circle members.

Free Club’s website: http://freeclub.oops.jp/