I’ve learned a lot from my CIP experience with regards to both culture and language, and I’m certainly glad I participated in it. The primary function of the “International Exchange Team” was to plan events in which native Japanese speakers and foreigners could converse and exchange ideas in a fluid and unassuming environment. However, on a day-to-day basis, we visited tourist hotspots in hopes of finding people who were in need of directions. Naturally, we congregated near maps, floated meaningfully around significant temples, or otherwise foraged through wide, brightly lit streets. I’m still not very aware of what the other volunteers, interns, or part-time employers do in their working or university lives, but, we gathered in Higashiyama for these purposes.

In general, the act of guiding people and giving directions did not prove fruitful for me because I was almost completely useless in this task. When I first started to volunteer with this team, I understood the conversations between my peers and senpai fairly well, but the conversations often lapsed into the casual, and I’m sure the other team members kindly tailored the conversation to my needs. When asked for directions, I understood the language surrounding the locations, but was unable to understand the precise locations they were looking for, and I certainly could not tell them how to actually reach said destination. (I, myself, got lost on the way to my CIP every day except for one, as a result experimenting with faster transportation methods).

However, I realized that my primary job within the volunteer group, unlike the other members, was to deal primarily with foreigners. In this situation I could communicate with them, but not an entirely concise or accurate way. We ended up working with a rudimentary methodology in which I translated any English questions into Japanese, and then translated the responses back into English. This was a very uncomfortable experience for me because I always felt as if information was lost in the rapid exchange and I would worry afterwards. However, having vague and slightly warbled directions was slightly better than being completely lost, I supposed, with no slight mortification.

Among the other volunteers, thanks seemed to be a primary motivating factor. Hearing one’s gratitude was well-worth the experience of appearing shady and conspicuous, holding up ghostly signs in the rain. When we weren’t helping lost souls, I had many great opportunities to practice Japanese with people my age as well as people who were just a bit older than me and had recently entered the workforce. The oldest man, whose age was never verbalized, already had two daughters and a wife, and treated me in a very avuncular manner. He constantly assuaged my trepidations, telling me, “We’re not like normal Japanese, so if there’s anything wrong, tell us!” He was an important contributor in the team, as well as several other volunteers who came and went, including many warmhearted and charismatic young ladies. My main correspondence was with a twenty-four-year-old employee who had studied abroad in Australia. He had been lost many times in Australia, but kind strangers had always been present to direct him to his destination. This, he expatiated, was his impetus for heading the International Exchange Team. For this reason, most of my conversations were with him, and he spoke with me patiently in Japanese throughout the evening. Typically towards the end of the evening, he would switch into English, and we would continue in that vein until it was time to call it a day.

The Japanese conversations were an interesting blend of keigo, often quickly switching from very humble forms to very casual forms before I could properly assess my position within the conversation. This really helped me practice how to adjust my level of formality according to the flow of conversation. I also learned things like how to accept a business card (although most of the keigo slipped right off of my brain without entering it), and how to conduct a meeting which we plan activities, events, etc.

The “guiding” and event-planning by itself was a truly difficult experience for me, quickly becoming something I largely preferred to avoid. However, the people who I worked with were such compelling folks and I really enjoyed working with them. They, likewise, were not impervious to the fatigue of such monotonous tasks, and seemed to generally be able to sympathize with the Japanese-induced headache behind my eyes. They were all very hard workers and generous with my mistakes, often glossing over them completely. I didn’t want to burden them, but I have certainly learned a lot from them, and I hope I have been able to contribute in some capacity to their English education. I cannot thank them enough!

今、私のCIPは東山国際交流チームとよんでいる。毎週、違う活動をするけれども、普通は、東山のへんを歩きながら、まいごになった人に道案内する。加えて、国際交流のイベントを企画している。初めはちょっと大変だった。私はまいごになりやすいから、道案内するのがとくに下手だ。だから、あまり役に立たないが、道のこと以外なら、役に立つかもしれない。英語を教えて欲しいと言われたので、私は外国人に英語で説明するのが仕事かと思ったけど、実は、外国人に会ったら、他の人が説明していた。道が分からないので、英語でも道案内できないので、本当に安心したが、じゃまな感じがし始めた。けれども、後で、「英語のいい文を作って下さい」と頼まれて、そうした。次は、手巻き寿司作りの国際交流イベントのことを決めて、次のミーティングでその材料を買うことになっている。すごく楽しみで、テンションが上がる。頑張るぞ！

For my spring CIP, I volunteered as an Assistant English Teacher at Ohara Gakuin, a school consisting of grades 1 through 9, in the small town of Ohara. Since I had initially hoped to participate in the JET program after graduation, I thought I would try my hand at teaching english during my time in Kyoto. Even though this experience taught me that JET is not the best path for me to follow, I do not regret the time I spent at Ohara. It offered me a glimpse of Japanese culture that I would never have seen otherwise, and left me with many great memories. The best part is that it allowed me to make friends with some of my favorite people in Japan; that they happen to be ten year olds just makes for a better story.

My volunteer experience in Japan reaffirmed both my love of children and my slight fear of teenagers. It also challenged many of the things that I thought I knew about Japanese schools, students, and the education system in Japan. One think that struck me at Ohara was how self-sufficient that students are expected to be. From my experience watching Japanese dramas, I was already familiar with the fact that students are largely responsible for sweeping classrooms, cleaning bathrooms, and just generally keeping the school clean. I was surprised, however, by the students’ many other responsibilities. I do not know whether or not this is common in Japanese schools, but Ohara Gakuin did not have a cafeteria. The students would carry prepared food from the kitchen to their homerooms and a few of them would take turns serving it to their classmates and teachers. The desks would be pushed together so that everyone could chat together while they ate. After everyone finished, the students would dispose of the remaining food and return all the dishes to the kitchen. I would never expect to see this type of responsibility given to second and third graders at American schools.

However, not all of these activities were tedious. The school also had a PA system which the students were fully in charge of. They would broadcast morning announcements and play music during lunch. To my surprise (and slight dismay), I had to make my introduction speech and say my goodbyes over the loudspeaker. In general, despite having some responsibilities that many American parents would condemn as being too much for small children, I found the degree of self-sufficiency and freedom to be really interesting and new.

As one would expect, many of my observations concerned the nature of English education at Ohara. Unfortunately, I was often frustrated at the teaching style and I now understand why so many Japanese students struggle so much with English. The teaching method is centered on memorization and repetition. While memorizing words and sentence patterns are important, they are useless without understanding the underlying grammar. This inefficiency was made most clear to me when I was assisting the 8th grade class on the day they had a presentation quiz. They had been memorizing a short story (a very simplified retelling of E.T.) for several days, and would have to present the story in front of the class, without the text in front of them. During practice, I listened while one of the students recited the story word for word. After he finished, I asked him whether he understood what he had just recited. He smiled and said no. As it turned out, he was one of the better students in the class. Many didn’t care enough to memorize the story, laughed their way through the presentation while reading directly from the book. Whether the students just didn’t do their work or actively disrupted the class, the teachers just basically turned a blind eye. In America, the teacher would have sent the kid to the principal’s office, called his parents, yelled, or done a number of things. But in my experience, the teacher never simply ignored it. While the 6-9th grades were tough sometimes, the younger grades were really fun to be around. Not only were they often as good or better at English than the upper grades, they seemed genuinely enthusiastic about learning. Although that doesn’t come as much of a surprise.

Ultimately, however, I was only able to observe ten weeks in one school of several thousands in Japan. I can also admit that I was observing it all through an impartial eye. I learned English fairly quickly and efficiently in three or so years because I was already living and studying in America. Learning and teaching English in a non-english speaking country will have its share of difficulties and inefficiencies, and Japan is no exception. As for the 8-10 year old friends I’ve made, I hope I get a chance to meet them again in the future and see how much they’ve improved.