My time in the shodou club has allowed me to truly appreciate the personal nature of a traditional Japanese art. Though technically a club, the shodou group acts more as a venue for anyone interested in practicing or learning about calligraphy to come and spend however much time he or she wants doing so. Thus, I have found my weekly visits to the shodou room to be moments of calm reflection. Because everyone is focused on their own calligraphy, the shodou room is usually fairly quiet. Practicing my calligraphy in such a setting allows me to forget about everything else and focus on the beauty of the characters themselves. Two things I have come to appreciate from this experience are both the beauty and the difficulty of writing kanji. I believe you cannot truly recognize Japanese writing as an art form until you see it through the lens of shodou, rather than as a mere tool for communication.
「KCJS 23 (2011-2012)」カテゴリーアーカイブ
Zhuoxin Miao: Taiko Kamiwakakai
My Community Involvement Project this semester is performing the Taiko with Kitanotenmangu Kamiwakakai. Because our group is affiliated with the Kitanotenmangu, the shrine for the god of knowledge in Japan, we are currently performing at Kitanotenmangu every Saturday evening.
When I was looking for CIP at the beginning of the semester, I wanted to join a circle that was fun, Japanese, and relaxed. Initially the mahjong circle caught my attention, but since it would have most of its activities on the other campus, about an hour away from where I am, I could not pursue that further. Then one of my friends came up with the name of the Taiko performing group; because I actually had played the Taiko once when I was in Kanazawa, I thought it was cool to continue it.
The first day of practice was intense. Because often there were people joining in the Kamiwakakai halfway, and not everyone would necessarily come to every practicing session due to other obligations, different levels of experience and skills were expected. As a result, although I did not know any of the pieces the group was playing at that time, I was asked to practice along with them, rather than letting me have a special training session on the side. It was better that way because by doing exactly what the senior members were doing, I felt that I could get used to my new group more easily.
Even though I do not necessarily know everyone’s name in Kamiwakakai, I really do feel that I am part of the group right now. When one of my friends was absent from a practice, people actually cared and would try to figure out the reason; despite the language barrier, people would try to find topics to talk with me; even people with whom I did not have a chance to talk to helped me when I needed something. The Kamiwakakai is like an extended family, where I feel warm, safe, and happy.
Scott Parks: Kyoto Esperanto Association
For an introductory blog post (in Japanese) about my CIP, click here.
"Saluton!" = "Hello!" = "こんにちは！"
Some of the primary goals of the CIP are to get exposure to Japanese culture, improve Japanese language skills, and be involved in a community of Japanese people outside of the internationally-minded perspective of the KCJS study abroad student context. As a result, I was initially worried about the legitimacy of my CIP, participating in the Kyoto Esperanto Association, due to its seeming lack of adherence to these goals. Speaking Esperanto specifically means I’m not speaking Japanese, and Esperantists from any country tend to be outside the mainstream cultural norms of their country, in this case Japan.
Nonetheless, in actuality I’ve found immense value in my CIP. The Kyoto Esperanto Society is surprisingly active, and they have inspired me to continue my journey with the Esperanto movement. In addition to meeting weekly at the Esperanto Kaikan to study, speak, and talk about Esperanto, I’ve also been taking advantage of unique opportunities that the group has provided me.
This month I traveled to Okayama prefecture for my first Esperanto conference, namely the Twelfth Annual Chugoku & Shikoku Esperanto Congress. There I was able to meet many people, make new friends, and get a taste of what Esperanto looks like on a larger scale. In fact, I was lucky enough to meet the organizer of next year’s International Youth Congress, an international gathering of Esperanto speaking youth that takes place every summer in a different country. Next year’s congress is scheduled to take place in Nara, and my experience in Okayama has motivated me to find a way to attend next year’s congress.
On December 3rd, I will be giving a short speech as part of an event to celebrate the birth of Esperanto’s creator. The event will be from 1:30pm-4:30pm in Ooyamazaki (大山崎町) and is open to the public. My talk will be about how I came to be interested in Esperanto as an American who speaks English, largely considered to already have become an international language. For more information, please view the event flyer (Japanese).
Adriana Reinecke: A Cappella
The thing that struck me most about the entire C.I.P. initiative was, ironically, just how difficult it was to initiate. In fact, the one aspect of it that left the biggest impression on me was that it is exceedingly difficult to integrate oneself into the flow of normal Japanese university life as an exchange student residing in an entirely different flow.
My initial difficulty stemmed from the fact that I had to wait for the end of the Dōshisha University summer holiday before I received word from the circle that I had contacted – an a cappella circle called ONE VOICES based on the main Kyōtanabe campus. When I finally did manage to arrange a meeting, I quickly learned that speaking the same language does not guarantee mutual understanding. I misinterpreted the intended meeting time, and almost went home before both I and my contact realized our miscommunication and I turned around.
The second thing that surprised me was the group dynamic within the circle. My contact, who was in charge of member recruitment, immediately insisted I called her Yū-min – an extremely familiar nickname. I was even more surprised to observe that all of the club members I met or was introduced to also call her by her nickname, regardless of whether said member were her sempai or kohai. This dynamic is made more unusual by the break-down of the circle. The largest a cappella circle on campus, ONE VOICES consists of over 200 members organized into “bands” of 6, based on musical interest. This means that many members of the circle meet only on rare occasions for circle-wide events. Yū-min, as the coordinator, was familiar with almost everybody, however, interactions between members of different bands ranged from extremely informal to highly traditional, with rules of seniority being strictly observed. My general impression was that this complicated mixing of differing levels of formality between sub-groups and individuals is a far more truthful representation of group dynamics than the stark, hard-and-fast rules of propriety we are taught in class.
Another factor of this 6-member band structure was that, until five other members presented themselves (actually four, as there was another prospective member touring with me), I was unable to formally start taking part in club activities. This became the biggest obstacle for me and was ultimately why I had to shift what I had been using as my “supplementary C.I.P.” activities (with Kyōto University’s KIXS international circle) to be my main C.I.P., whereas my contact with the Dōshisha a cappella circle was relegated to the “supplementary” spot. I confess I was surprised at how strictly the members stuck to the “6 person rule.” I can’t speak for everyone, but in my experience, American university students might be more inclined to temporarily (or even permanently) allow the formation of a 7 member group, or come up with some other solution in such a case. That is not to say that one is better than the other – simply that they are different.
Were KCJS run on the Japanese academic calendar (which would be exceedingly difficult to reconcile with our lives and schedules back home), I personally think it would be easier to integrate into everyday university life. Despite the fact that in the end I was unable to really join the group due to logistical issues, I still feel like I learned a great deal from the contact I did have with its members, both in person and via text messaging. I was pleasantly surprised by the extremely warm welcome I received – by the end of the first day I had been given a nickname, invited to have dinner and to visit Yū-min at her part-time job, and even asked if I was half Japanese (which I found funny seeing as I’m very obviously Caucasian). I was struck by the level of casual friendliness and openness with which I was welcomed into the group, which as I understand is not a given. It was possibly the first time since coming to Japan that I truly did not feel my “foreignness,” mainly because they did not seem overly concerned by it. All in all, although it did not become my regular C.I.P., I found what contact I did have with the circle both educational and fun, for lack of a better word. I hope to keep in touch with the people I met there for the remainder of my stay in Japan.
Michele McAndrews: Orchestra
The first and probably the most prevalent thing I learned from entering the Katano city orchestra was that it was not all that different from any other orchestra. The overall idea of an “orchestra” was not changed in any way. The conductor, Kimura-san, stood on a podium and swung his baton just as any other conductor, and reiterated passages when he wanted something different. It was easy to follow along, especially with seven years experience of playing the viola. Orchestra practices let me relax and recover from culture shock, as if returning to this little bubble where I actually knew how things worked that trancended both Japanese and American culture. Even following along with the conductor didn’t require all that much mastery of the language, since Kimura-san sung passages and made it clear as to what he wanted to change.
There was only one really noticeable culture difference that stuck out to me. The orchestra would stand and bow together at the beginning and end of practice. It was quite a shock to me the first time it happened, as I had not been expecting such a formality. Another tricky thing about practice was getting the measure numbers right. I had to harness my Japanese counting skill and listen closely to know where the orchestra was starting from. And the last thing that kind of bothered me was that I didn’t have an assigned seat. Usually there is a certain placement of orchestra members, and for the sake of a good concert, one is suppose to sit in the same spot for every practice. I never really knew where I was supposed to sit, so that was a little odd to me.
Speaking of the concert, I think the orchestra played their very best. Beethoven’s 9th symphony is no easy feat, but we somehow managed to pull through really spectacularly. I am really happy that I was able to play Beethoven’s 9th.
Hillary Fens: Doshisha “Photo Club” Member
Officially, I joined a photography circle at Doshisha for my CIP. I went in not knowing what to expect, and I’m coming out of it not really knowing what happened. I did not really do anything special to become a member, other than express interest in photography and in joining their circle. I noticed many things – namely, that not all circles are as serious as they are made out to be, and the theme of a non-sports-circle may have little or nothing to do with its members’ interests.
These were actually my two preconceived notions on circles – first that, as a circle, there would be a hierarchical order to the club members and that the club bonded them as friends; second, that, as a group branded with “Photo Club”, the members would be interested in photography.
Well, in my case, neither ended up being true.
This particular circle is pretty nebulous, a problem that prevented me from feeling like a full-fledged member of the club. The club only set out to have regular meetings because I had come into the club asking about meetings. So, they decided to meet every week on Fridays.
I thought this was exciting at first – I’m in a circle and we get together every week, great! They were excited, too! However, our “schedule” quickly devolved into members ignoring other members to get out of having to meet. While I never neglected to contact the members, after a while, I started hoping they would just ignore my contact – it was tiresome to go through excuses instead of just having it put directly: we don’t want to meet with you.
The times we did meet for dinner, our language barrier was a huge issue. It was hard to socialize in such a stiff setting. We were friends under very contrived circumstances. Even my one go-to topic, photography, was not successful in soliciting get-to-know-you small talk.
I did make one friend, though, and she seemed to be the only one who legitimately enjoyed photography! With her, language was almost a non-issue, because she had spent time studying English in America. I am happy to be a year-long student so we can hang out more next semester.
Actually, after having made this friend, my weekly CIP event became inviting her out on Friday nights for dinner, along with KCJS friends + other Japanese friends.
Lucia Carver: DJ Circle
I want to start off by saying that the CIP requirement is an excellent effort on the part of KCJS to ensure that students are being exposed to friends and social situations outside of the KCJS environment. It is absolutely crucial that all study abroad students get out of their comfort zone and leave the safety of other English-speakers and events planned by KCJS; in fact I would say that this is by far the most rewarding part of studying abroad. Knowing that you were able to make friends and contribute something not as a study abroad student but as a valued member of a club or such is an incredibly satisfying feeling.
I joined the DJ circle over at Ritsumeikan, a neighboring university, as I had a difficult time finding contact information for Doshisha’s DJ circle. My experience there reminds me quite strongly of my experience in the volleyball club at a Japanese girl’s high school when I studied abroad in Osaka during my junior year of high school. That is to say, there was a lot of frustration involved. Despite pledging to be a member of the club, it was apparent that I wasn’t receiving all of the appropriate information; one time when I went to our regular practice space at the normal time, no one was there. I later asked one of the circle members whom I had added on Facebook where everyone had been, and he informed me that practice had been canceled. I had received no notice.
This made me feel as if I was being treated as less than a full member, which needless to say was quite a frustrating experience. I wanted to participate as fully as possibly but without the necessary communication about events and the like, I felt as if I was simply showing up for practice and that was about it.
However, whereas in America I would perhaps get angry and have a few words with the club president, I realized that it was unlikely the president realized this problem was even occurring. One of the responsibilities of being a study abroad student in Japan is that you must be as proactive as possible. If you feel that you are not being accepted fully into the group as a real member, nothing will change unless you take charge of it yourself and eliminate the problem. I am going to speak to the club president this week and reestablish what it is that I joined the club for, and to reach a level of understanding on both sides so that I can begin to feel like a full, contributing member.
These sort of cultural differences in communicating wants or in the way we make assumptions about another’s understanding of our feelings are difficult to grasp for all international students, but especially for Americans in Japan. We come from very different cultural contexts, and speaking as someone who as of now has lived in Japan for a total of 1 and a half years and studied the language and culture for many, I still struggle with these fundamental yet frustratingly subtle elements of communication. However, working through these frustrations and feeling glimmers of understanding are truly the most rewarding part of being immersed in a foreign culture.
Rebecca Gabriel : English Teaching Assistant
My CIP, teaching at a middle school, was quite enjoyable. I happened to be lucky: out of the three who taught at the middle school, I had the least amount of canceled classes, so I got to see the students more. I taught 9th grade mostly, as 8th grade was cancelled almost all the time. I recently switched to a different 9th grade class, which made me a bit sad (I was almost finished remembering their names!!), but I really like my new class as well. I also got to teach the third 9th grade class, so I’ve seen them all at this point. I’ve never taught in an officially before; I was always the girl who you’d ask for help on home work in high school. But, I always enjoyed that, and I’ve enjoyed this as well.
One of the many interesting aspects about teaching at a Japanese middle school was that I got to see how English is taught as a second language in a language I am trying to learn. For example, we just learned the grammar pattern for “language I am trying to learn,” or “noun modifying sentence that comes directly after.” In Japanese, it is the opposite, but from the student’s perspective the English phrase is written the other way around. (I couldn’t begin to count the number of times I said 反対 while I helping them.) They would often rearrange phrases to make a grammatically correct sentence (something I personally never did while learning a language). For example, this past week a question would have “I like,” “the season,” “summer,” and “is” and they would have to put it in the right order. (This is harder than it seems. As I was walking around helping them, I noticed that almost every student put “Summer I like is the season.”) It’s also nice that I can explain some in Japanese as well, which usually earns me a 「日本語うまいね」 or some variation.
Another thing that they do is using games as part of the learning process. I never thought I would play “rock, paper, scissors” against a class of middle school students. If they won, they could ask me a question and get a point for their team. I discovered that I am 「じゃんけん、強い！」 that day. They did things like that all the time. It was interesting and a bit strange to be able to understand the teacher in Japanese explaining English grammar. I could really sympathize with the students, being in a similar, though reversed, situation.
I found it really interesting seeing a Japanese middle school from the inside. I have heard many scary things about the intensity of the Japanese school system. This one was surprisingly laid back. The students all talked through class, for example, or even slept on occasion with no one bothering to wake them up. They were also very rowdy and talked rather casually with the teachers. They also use some kind of reward system. A winning team or the first ten people to finish a crossword would get to make another step on their world map. I only got gold stars and the like until about 4th grade or earlier, but they still do things like that in 9th grade. Another difference was that the teachers moved from room to room instead of the students. This nicely avoided “traffic jams,” but the teacher did forget his marker on occasion. They also ate lunch in the classrooms where it was brought to them and changed in them after gym. (I walked in twice by accident, and twice a boy was just wearing underwear in the back. And no, I have no idea what that was about, but he got clothed quickly while the teacher ignored him.) They cleaned the school themselves. There were always a few students with brooms around that would say “Hello” to me or bow.
It was much less formal and less strict than I thought it would be. They are really friendly students, always making jokes. I somehow developed a joke with the boy who is always changing in the back. It’s a nice example of how laid-back they classes can be. (It’s all in English except the first two lines)
N: “Who do we like in Fahrenheit?”
Together: (while pointing fingers at each other) “JIRO!”
Mr. Ueno: “So, you like a man?”
N: “Yes, I like a man.”
Mr. Ueno: “You like men?”
N: “No no no, I like women!”
Once they know that I can speak Japanese and if I speak informally with them, they respond in kind, which was nice for talking to them. I have some great memories from this experience: playing janken with everyone, the “Jiro” joke, and the time I did a Kamehameha wave with them to name a few. It makes me happy that I can keep on observing all this and that I can teach again next semester! I believe I’ll have another school next semester, my host brother’s. I kind of hope I get his class!
Angela Sham: Nico Tomato Volunteering
I started this CIP thinking that I would be spending most of my time playing with the children of the hospital, setting up activities and helping to make sure these activities went smoothly. This hasn’t been the case! Because of my schedule, I actually end up spending more time with the other volunteers and the leaders of Nico Tomato – namely Kanda-san and her wonderful crew of eager workers. It is a different experience from what I expected, but I have come away with some interesting insights into the social hierarchy of Japanese volunteer groups, and more than enough hospital gossip. The times I did get to play with the kids were few, but memorable. One time I was waiting in the hallway for a coworker and a kid in a wheelchair stopped next to me, flipped open his DS and showed me how to play the game he had. I recorded some simple English phrases, and he repeated them – very cute!
Reflecting on my time with Nico Tomato, more than anything I hope I was a little helpful to the group. Even though I often couldn’t be there for activities, I usually helped with busywork – assembling cards, organizing newsletters, delivering things from one section of the building to the other. The ensuing conversations were always interesting. For example, I entered into a debate about how the annual Christmas card should look (and the Christmas card is indeed a serious matter, the amount of effort that goes into these holiday cards is almost staggering), but I realize I had never been put into an argumentative situation before. I sat back and listened to how the other workers suggested changes to their superior, who was making all of the final decisions. I learned how to politely argue! I hope I convinced Kanda-san that the red ribbon was better, in the end. Some things I really loved about my experiences with Nico Tomato were getting to see these glimpses of daily life, of learning Japanese perspective on things like Halloween, American style weddings, and being able to provide answering foreign perspective to an equally interested audience. I’m thankful that I was able to spend time at Nico Tomato! It felt like a short time, but I always felt welcomed by Kanda-san and the rest of the volunteers.
Calvin Krogh: Kyoto City Zoo Volunteers
My CIP was spent at the Kyoto Municipal Zoo, in Oyazaki Park. As I mentioned in my earlier post, I have wanted to work with animals ever since I was a young child. Whenever anyone asks me what I want to do with my life, I say “A large exotic mammal veterinarian at a Japanese zoo,” which is simply an amalgamation of all my interests. I have been working for four years at a small animal clinic, but never have had the chance to work at a zoo, so I was very excited at the opportunity to volunteer in Kyoto and get that much closer to my ultimate career.
My time was spent almost entirely in the goat pen of the Children’s Petting Zoo, where I explained facts to visitors and did my best to answer their questions. I also was there to assuage the fears of kids unsure about petting the animals. Much of my interaction consisted of speaking in a friendly tone and saying “The goat is nice. Would you like to try and pet him?” I was also briefly assigned to the petting room where we helped visitors hold rabbits and guinea pigs, but this required more Japanese than I could quickly explain to a young child so the goat pen ended up being a better fit.
My co-volunteers were probably the most unique part of my CIP. The vast majority were female, usually older middle-aged ladies who spent every weekend at the zoo, giving up mornings and afternoons. Before I had decided on a CIP, I had looked forward to building camaraderie with Japanese peers, and in this way the make-up of the volunteers was somewhat of a disappointment. I was an outsider in age, gender, and nationality. This did not manifest itself in any sort of coldness. Quite the opposite, the other volunteers were always very kind and patient and eager to answer my questions, and quick to start a conversation when there was a lull in visitors. Not only this, but at the start and end of every session, we would discuss any questions or problems we had during the day. The meetings made the group feel more like a company, which in some ways it was since “Kyoto City Zoo Volunteers” is an established organization. It was comforting when I needed help to know I would have somewhere to voice my concerns. While I was working with these other volunteers, the majority of my Japanese interactions happened ‘in field’ so to speak, with visitors.
Looking back on my time at the zoo now, it is hard to remember exactly what I expected out of this CIP, particularly since I had not seen a zoo before, except as a visitor. I think I thought I would be working in more than just the children’s zoo, perhaps with more variety of tasks. But at the same time, staying only in one area gave me much needed time to practice the explanations and phrases I picked up over time. Over the weeks and months I became familiar with the routines and explanations, and even learned all of the goats’ names by heart. Being immersed in an activity and environment that had felt so foreign and awkward at the start was by far the most rewarding part of my CIP experience. I could feel my confidence grow week to week, and by the end I was happy to engage visitors whole heartedly, where before I would timidly watch from the edge of the pen. When I had begun, I was unsure exactly if and how to initiate discussion and this is where my job of showing kids how to pet the goats came in handy. I learned to let the customers come to me, and then greet them with a hearty “Welcome, good morning!” pat one of my favorite residents of the pen, and let things unfold naturally. For some visitors, I was just as interesting as the animals, and I ended up giving a ten second biography of how I ended up in a goat pen in Kyoto at least a few dozen times.
I am very happy I got the chance to volunteer at the Kyoto Zoo. It gave me a chance to feel how Japanese work together, and just get used to a zoo as a work environment. I did end up finding Japanese friends outside of my CIP, so the difficulty of forming friendships outside of work was less of a problem. I would say, though, that if I were to do things over again, or were staying the entire year, I might like to try a circle or club so I could get more time with Japanese my own age, if just for the chance at more Japanese practice.. I am happy, though that I felt at ease and comfortable in the routines of the program by the end of the semester, because it gave me tangible evidence that my Japanese, or at least my social skills, were improving. I am also glad that I am at least a bit closer to realizing my career as a ‘large exotic mammal veterinarian at a Japanese zoo,’ even if I’m going to need a bit more Japanese under my belt