Kiely Quinn: Klexon and Volunteering at Doshinjidoukan

I was fortunate enough to try two different experiences for my community involvement project with KCJS. I started my CIP experience by attending Klexon, a language exchange club for Japanese people who are interested in learning English. Although I enjoyed meeting new people and forming friendships, ultimately I felt as though I would prefer a different experience. Nakata-sensei helped me to locate an elementary after-school program called Doushinjidoukan near my apartment.

Before becoming a volunteer, I had to make a phone call to the program. I was very nervous about this because I had never made a phone call in Japanese before and I try to avoid phone calls as much as possible even in English. I was not confident that my speaking and listening abilities were adequate enough to handle a phone call with a native Japanese speaker, but Nakata-sensei kindly helped me practice and I was able to make the call. I was so proud of myself for being able to arrange my first appointment over the phone in Japanese. Without the CIP experience I probably never would’ve had to do anything like that.

Once I started volunteering the kids seemed somewhat wary of me at first, but ultimately they welcomed me in and had lots of games they wanted to play with me. Many of them wanted to know more about America, or wanted to show me their favorite games or toys. One day, I played restaurant/conbini (Japanese convenience store) with several of the kids which involved them serving me various different dishes and pretending to work at a conbini. It was interesting to see the similarities and differences in children’s play between Japanese and American children. For example, I had played similar restaurant games with American children, but because convenience stores do not have the same popularity in America, convenience store games are not common among children in the United States.

I was very sad that I had to leave so abruptly due to covid-19, and never got to see the children again or say goodbye to them properly. When I arrived, they were all so excited that I would be coming every week until the end of April, but in the end I was only able to go a handful of times. Despite this, I will never forget the time that I was able to spend there and the people I was able to meet.

I would advise future KCJS students to think carefully about what they want to get out of their CIP when trying to decide on what to do. In my case, I wanted to try and volunteer with children because I was living in an apartment and would not be able to interact with different generations in a host family. Also, I would advise future KCJS to be outgoing and as friendly as possible when they get to their activity. Doing so will make everyone more comfortable and will make your experience flow more easily. Although it can be difficult at first, when people are not really sure what to make of you, if you show up consistently and work hard, they will ultimately appreciate your dedication.

Kyle Matthews: DJ Circle

For my CIP I participated in the Ritsumeikan DJ Circle, called “L@bel”. Even though I had almost no DJ experience when I joined I can confidently say that joining the DJ circle was one of the highlights of my time abroad. I was able to grow and improve in a skill that I was very interested in all while being able to communicate in Japanese and participate in a Japanese University Club.

One of the things interesting about the DJ Circle was the fact that senpai-kohai (上下関係)relationship was almost nonexistent. I think one of the best lessons I learned from this is how different social hierarchies in japan are based on the environment you are in. As a new member in the club I had to introduce myself to a lot of the members and if I hadn’t they wouldn’t have introduced themselves to me. But after introducing myself I was able to build relationships with my peers and they were able to help me a lot in becoming a better DJ. Being a circle focused on music it was interesting to see what kind of music the Japanese students used. A lot of them were fans of hip hop and r&b but mixed all different kinds of genres in their playing. I remember one time specifically one of my friends played an older song from the 60’s or so and even then all the fellow members of the club sang along and knew the lyrics, which is pretty rare in America I think.

Practices for the DJ circle are on Tuesdays from 7-10pm at a bar called ルカ in Kawaramachi in the center of the nightlife. It was a great experience to practice with nice equipment at a very cool venue. Usually we practice individually on our laptops as we take turns using the speaker system and turntables. My friends were always very nice about letting me have ample time to practice and encouraging me to take as much time with the equipment as I wanted. Unfortunately, one of the issues with the circle currently is attendance. I was really surprised to see how relaxed the club president was about attendance, but on the other hand because I showed up every week I quickly gained some respect and was able to make connections easier.

I was able to learn a lot more about the hip hop culture in Japan which I’m really interested in. I have many Japanese friends in Boston who grew up in Japan before coming to University in the US and according to them hip hop in Japan is still pretty unknown and uncommon, but within my community of my circle it didn’t seem that way at all. It felt really great to be able to have conversations with my friends in the circle about hip hop, and made me feel a lot more accepted and normal.

I’ll have the chance next month to DJ at our live show and I’m getting a lot of support from my fellow members.

I’m glad that I chose this CIP because not only did I find a new passion in DJing but I made some great friends as well.

Chloe Pearce: Koto

Throughout the fall, I took koto lessons with Iwasaki-sensei as my CIP. Every Tuesday, another KCJS student and I went over to Greenwich house to practice in a group session. People would filter in and out during the duration of practice, and the other students would vary from week to week. Most of them were around the age of retirement, and had experience playing the shamisen, flute, or koto, but there were also newer students, such as a mother and her adorable five-year-old daughter who took lessons together.

Iwasaki-sensei tended to focus on the shamisen students or the little girl when she arrived. I was taught by Saito-sensei, a “student” who clearly had a similar level of experience to Iwasaki-sensei. She was very kind and patient with me as I fumbled my way through practice each week. The class members are very close to one another, and our sessions have a lighthearted air of warmth. Iwasaki-sensei herself is very welcoming, she’ll give out tea and treats and often jokes around with her students. One class she paused the lesson, marched us downstairs, and treated us to cheese bubble tea from Kawaramachi.

Though I enjoyed the classroom’s dynamics, I did find that throughout our weekly time together I didn’t necessarily have many opportunities to practice conversation. The lessons, naturally, are focused on playing music. The blogs of past KCJS students who have also taken lessons with Iwasaki-sensei mention often going out to dinner following a practice, but as my homestay was further away, I returned earlier. Despite the warm classroom environment and Iwasaki-sensei’s kindness,  I was often held back by my own shyness from pushing myself to insert myself into a conversation and practice speaking. I’ve learned that, truthfully, unless I’m in a situation where I’m forced to speak Japanese, taking initiative by myself is not my strong point. After this realization, I did try to speak out more within our weekly practices. Yet at different points in the semester, I looked to some of my classmates, who participated in volunteer work or clubs where they are forced to speak through the nature of the activity, and felt some regret that I didn’t choose a similar CIP, or always push myself hard enough in the one that I did.

That being said, when deciding on lessons in the beginning of the semester, my goal hadn’t been to do a CIP purely for improving my language skills. I had simply wanted to participate in a traditional art form of Japan, and explore a facet of Japanese culture with which I had little experience. From this respect, I’m happy with my choice. Even though I wish at times I had been more outspoken, I’m grateful to have taken lessons within Iwasaki-sensei’s warm and welcoming classroom.

My advice to future students is to think critically about what sort of experience you want from a CIP, and what skills you wish most to practice or gain. Imagine yourself at the end of the semester: what would you not want to regret? What kind of experience would make you satisfied?

Cristina Ammon: Assistant English Teacher

This semester I did my CIP at an English school for kids. The teacher is Suemitsu-sensei, who is also one of the host mothers for KCJS, and the English lessons take place in a separate section of her home. When I arrive at her house, generally I’m greeted by not only Suemitsu-sensei, but also her younger sister, their dog, and some of the students who are waiting for class to start.

The regular structure of a lesson that I co-teach entails songs, workbook activities, reading aloud, and an educational game. When a lesson is in session, Suemitsu-sensei generally wants to me to speak English instead of Japanese so that the kids have more exposure to the sound of native English, so there isn’t much communication in Japanese between the teacher, the students, and myself. However, before each lesson, she often explains to me the lesson plan and notifies me of any upcoming events entirely in Japanese. After each lesson, Suemitsu-sensei, her sister, and I will sometimes eat dinner together or just chat freely about our lives. What has stood out to me during my participation in this CIP is how much the communication style can change depending on the conversation topic. For example, when I enter the school or discuss the English lessons with Suemitsu-sensei, she will almost always use keigo or polite speech. On the other hand, when we are talking about our personal lives or eating out at a restaurant, Suemitsu-san and her sister will often talk to me very casually. At these times, I wasn’t sure what speech style to use. While I wanted to close the distance between the teacher and myself and deepen our friendship, I didn’t want to come across as disrespectful by using casual speech.

When I brought this up in my Japanese class, my classmates and teacher said they felt there are definitely times when we can switch to casual speech even if we are talking to someone older than us. Specifically, Nakamura-sensei explained that when we want to express our own emotions, it’s okay to switch briefly. For example, if we are served delicious food, we can say “美味しい!こんなおいしいの食べたことない!” because it’s a display of our individual feelings and appreciation.

Throughout the semester, I would occasionally slip into casual speech if it seemed fit, but whenever I did so, I’d feel a bit a guilt because I didn’t want Suemitsu-sensei to think I was being rude. In retrospect, however, I’m glad I used casual speech when I did because I think it helped me grow closer to Suemitsu-sensei and her sister. Because of that, I feel like our relationship is now based on not only the CIP but also genuine friendship. We celebrated Suemitsu-sensei’s birthday together, and they often invite me to eat dinner at their house. My advice to future KCJS students would be to find the best way to deepen your relationships with the people at your CIP so that the quality of your time not only there but in Kyoto as a whole improves significantly.

Wiley Krishnaswamy: Koto Lessons with Sensei Kurahashi Ayako

The KCJS Japanese language curriculum includes a requirement for an individual project, something involving the Japanese language carried out by a single student to be gradually completed and reported upon throughout the semester. My project this semester involves producing (some of) an English translation of In’eiraisan (In Praise of Shadows,) a composition by Taisho/early Showa period writer and playwright Tanizaki Jun’ichiro, famed for his astute comparisons and contrasts of Western and Japanese culture and aesthetics. Quite early on in this essay, Tanizaki points out how western recording and amplifying technology (of his time,) having been developed to suit the particularities of Western music, failed to capture at least half of the charm and reticence so central to traditional Japanese musical aesthetics, the beauty contained in subtle musical texture, pauses, silence, and approaching silence—this idea stayed with me throughout my Community Involvement Project at KCJS, that being taking lessons in Koto with local teacher Kurahashi Ayako.

The Koto is a type of East Asian long zither, similar in construction and playing method to the Chinese Guzheng, Korean Gayageum, or Vietnamese Dan Tranh. It consists of a long and slender hollow wooden body likened to that of a dragon, above which a set of thirteen (usually) moveable bridges are held down by strings that run lengthwise down the 2 meter playing surface. The side of the strings to the right of the bridges from the perspective of the player are secured behind a hard bridge at one end, and are plucked with the right hand, wearing specialized plectrums called tsume. The left hand is free to either pluck strings as well, or push down the strings on the other side of the movable bridges to raise the pitch or create a vibrato effect among other things. The history of the instrument is somewhat unclear as stringed instruments have been found in Japan dating back to periods before heavy permeation of technology and culture from China/Korea, but it is likely that the modern Koto descends from a mainland long zither used during or before the Han dynasty in China. Originally used to play slow and elegant court music, as the instrument was adapted to Japanese tastes and musical styles over the years it changed in form and composition as well, leading to a modern instrument quite different from its ancestor.

I have been interested in the Koto for quite some time, having dallied in it for a few years in the USA before coming to Japan. As much as I read about playing techniques and musical forms, nothing could compare to having an actual player teach me how to properly play the instrument. Even before I came to Kyoto, I was decently sure that this was what I wanted to do for my CIP—after arriving, on the recommendation of my host family and a past student who stayed with them, I was directed to Kyoto resident Kotoist Kurahashi Ayako, an incredibly skilled performer and with years of experience who offers lessons out of her warm and comfortable traditional style town house. While she teaches the Koto and Shamisen, her husband, also an respected musician, performs and teaches Shakuhachi—They often perform together all over Japan and overseas as well. After my initial meeting with Kurahashi-sensei to work out scheduling and other details, I started going to her house weekly for lessons in the instrument. While Kyoto’s traditional cultural and musical world is quite known for being secretive and often unwelcoming towards visitors, Kurahashi-sensei and her husband were incredibly warm and welcoming towards me and other students coming to them with little to no experience, despite their incredibly high skill level.

As I had done some practice studying up on vocabulary surrounding the Koto and its various techniques beforehand, we were able to communicate quite smoothly (to her surprise) and each lesson has been quite rewarding. Each lesson was essentially comprised of some amount of working on a few specific techniques, followed by playing through full musical scores and working through difficult parts. After learning to play through the ubiquitous Sakura Sakura, Kurahashi-sensei chose two very different pieces for me to work on. One of them, Yatsuhashi Kengyo’s Rokudan no Shirabe, is considered one of the most important pieces of a Kotoist’s repertoire, as the six movements of the piece contain a wide range of techniques and playing styles. Considerate of the fact that I would be returning to the United States after the semester, she picked a piece that would allow me to practice and continue to improve a number of techniques on my own.

As I mentioned a few paragraphs ago, Japanese music makes incredible use of reticence and subtle texture—while learning different playing techniques I was constantly reminded of this. Playing the Koto is so much more than it looks like; while one may see simply plucking on the right hand and pushing on the left, there are a myriad of different techniques involving these movements and more. Some of the more melodic ones include timed release of bent strings, karari and sarari (types of glissando-like techniques,) and arpeggios. Techniques that affect texture include playhing with the back of the tsume, scratching along the string with the side of the tsume, or even flicking the tsume sideways along the string quite quickly for a dynamic noise. It is quite hard to put into words, but after learning and using these techniques I became a lot more able to hear them in performance, and deepened my appreciation of Koto and other Japanese musical instruments.

The focus of the CIP, however, does not lie entirely in the subject matter one engages with—involvement in the local community and communication with those in the former are also key parts. Kurahashi-sensei and her husband Yodou-sensei were quite warm and friendly, inviting me to several concerts that they and their friends were performing at. Before and after lessons I spent time at their house talking to various guests from different parts of the world, observing practice sessions and learning about how those people from starkly different walks of life ended up practicing traditional Japanese music in Kyoto. While I can speak Japanese to the point where there were no real difficulties in conversation, my language (especially keigo) when put on the spot is by no means perfect. While I was initially worried that a mess up in respectful language would have unfortunate results, I quickly learned that most people do not fret about the small details of speech if respectful and kind intention is conveyed clearly through manner.

I learned this not only through Kurahashi-sensei herself, but through the other various people I met during the course of my CIP. In the process of buying music and tsume for my lessons, I became acquainted with a Koto retailer working out of a small store in Gion. Given the insular nature of both that area and the musical community, He tends to only show up at/let people into the store upon request. With introduction from my sensei, I was able to work out the details of our meeting and purchase the necessary materials, and as I am writing this I plan on visiting him again to talk in detail about the Koto business in Kyoto for a project in a different class.

All in all, my CIP experience allowed me to not only gain a solid foundation that will enable me to continue working on my Koto playing at home, but also achieve a clearer grasp on the necessities and peculiarities of socialization and conversation in an area of Japanese society that I see myself engaging with in depth in the future. I am quite grateful to Kurahashi-sensei and her husband for their warm welcome and continuing support, as well as to my amazing senseis at KCJS who helped me with some of the more difficult aspects of proper student etiquette and communication. I only wish that I had had a Koto with me in Kyoto to practice more often—while I am quite sad to leave Kyoto, one thing that I am looking forward to going back is being able to polish the base of skills that Kurahashi-sensei gave me everyday at home.

Joao Paulo Krug Paiva: Hip-Hop Dance Lesson

I have always sensed a certain universality to the world of dance in the 4 places where I had trained before coming to Japan (Boston, New York, Los Angeles and Brazil), but it was incredible to have a chance to confirm that in Japan. Of course there are differences, but probably the most interesting thing about hip hop studios is that instead of conserving the differences between Japanese and US culture, they bring both of these worlds into a third, which feels incredibly familiar to anyone who has experienced it anywhere around the world. We stretch, practice some techniques which the teacher deems useful for that day’s  choreography, learn around 30 seconds of choreography together and dance it in small groups by the end of the class. As one group dances, the others form a circle around them to cheer them forward, and finally the teacher might choose to perform it alone at the end of the class either for the students’ inspiration, study, or for the teacher’s own enjoyment. Both of these descriptions could describe in some detail the 5 environments I have experienced so far, including Japan, yet because of the Japanese personality, I think, the moments after the class have been considerably different.

This is also influenced by the fact that this studio is smaller than the enormous studios in Tokyo, for example, but it is a well established culture for the teacher to stay and talk to the students and build relationships after the class. In this case my teacher happens to be famous, a member of the hip hop team that largely defined street dance as it is in Japan. Today Japan is the second most acknowledged country in the world of hip hop, yet the intimidating atmosphere I felt in LA was not at all present. What’s more, in contrast with LA, for example, there was no pressure for me to change my personality. I am not claiming to be normal or cool around all of my friends but I am indescribably shy and clumsy when entering new groups, especially those which have a clear distinction with the groups I integrate. For example, I can find several commonalities with other KCJS students that make me feel like we have a similar standing: we are all college students, currently studying in the US, living in a foreign and completely different country and under the same program, taking similar classes. In the studio, however, that is different. I am from Brazil, have moved to the US but now am living in Japan taking classes with a famous Japanese professional dancer in her country, with students she already knows and are part of a tight knit community. In LA the pressure is even more indescribable, you might be rehearsing in one room while Beyonce is literally in the room next to you, you want to be hired by her but you know it probably won’t happen because you’re disputing that job with the other 100 amazing dancers which currently share the studio with you, plus those rehearsing in different studios and those who come all around the world just for these auditions – every class feels like a simulated audition. Because of this imposing culture, it is demanded that you impose yourself: be confident, find your style, jump to the front of the room to be seen, talk to the teacher because you are the one who has something to gain and if you are shy, it’s because you haven’t developed your social skills well enough – well, tough luck for me.

Thank god I found this class, this teacher I had watched on Youtube and Instagram from Brazil and the US simply approached me and talked as I was about to leave the studio. Not only that, but she waited at the door for me so I wouldn’t go without us meeting. Of course the fact that she is famous imposes limits on how fast one can build a relationship, since fame attracts many insincere friends. That forced friendship, however, was sometimes exactly what was demanded in LA, and I had no idea how to act, because I would stumble through words while looking down and ultimately just leave with a handshake and “thank you for class.” This teacher, however, more famous than many of my LA teachers, sat me in the together with their close knit circle and asked about me, my life, what I did, why I had come to Japan, why I was “so umai at Japanese” and complimented the thing I care the most about, my dance, even as I am unable to dance properly because of my operated hips, saying she was looking forward to see me recovering.

Indeed the Japanese have a different way of moving, and naturally we talked a lot about those differences as well. In the west, especially in hip hop, dancers tend to focus on their upper body, which has most of the gestural movement and perhaps is easier to notice – although now I focus way more on the lower body. The Japanese, however, seem to be the opposite: the arms seem not as important, but by focusing on the lower body their dance has a stability and fluency that is really difficult to find. If you watch a Japanese hip hop dancer, probably two things will stand out: their connection with the music and their soft knees. Knees give you stability and impulse when you are dancing, yet they are usually naturally locked and stiff – that’s actually a good way of guessing for how long has been practicing, when you are in America. Here, however, the softness in the legs seems to happen more naturally, which is interesting for me, too, as someone who doesn’t have that specific aspect as naturally as the Japanese. That is not to say, however, that the Japanese are inherently better, just that they seem to have one good natural quality. My teacher joked all the time, however, about how the Japanese were anxious compared to Americans, and that a music that started on 60 bpm (beats per minute) would become 120 in a minute if it depended on Japanese. She has lived in LA as well, and also said the quietness of the Japanese sometimes give a weird feeling to the performer – even when the audience is enjoying it. Especially in America people tend to scream all the time during hip hop performances, while in Japan it’s normal for them to say nothing at all, and once you are used to America that can be quite scary.

The thing I am most grateful for, however, was for their welcoming spirit and acceptance of my clumsy, quiet way in the studio, which was answered with comments like “So respectful!” or (maybe in the worst case) “Mecha Kawaii Yan (Really cute right??),because I probably look like a kid transferring schools at elementary school. But I have done that before, quite a few times, actually, and perhaps because of Japan’s culture of listening attentively, then respond, it was the first time I felt those characteristics were welcomed, so I would feel incredibly comfortable inviting anyone there for their first dance class. She gave us freedom to choose what we wanted to work on during class ‘I am giving you raw material but if you think that’s too stressful you can just learn one thing, and if you think that’s too easy you can make it more challenging, it’s your class and I am happy to see you do what you want with it.’ In any case you are guaranteed to be welcomed and congratulated by her in the end with a warm “Otsukaresama deshita!” and praise of whatever she can compliment in you – even if it’s your courage for taking a different class. Anyone that decides to do this, I think, would have an amazing first view of the hip hop world, from one of it’s most welcoming countries.

Diamond Jones: English Teaching Assistant at Kita-Oji

For my CIP, I was able to be an English Teaching Assistant at Kita-Oji. Back in America, I teach high-school students every week, so I really looked forward to connecting with students in Japan. At first, organizing a set time for my CIP was extremely hectic. My sensei wanted me come on days I had time, but that resulted in me coming in on different t days every week.

My first day was nerve wracking. It was a Friday, so there’s were 2 1-hour classes. The first class had 4 elementary students, while the second was 2 junior high students. Primarily, my role as an assistant emphasized pronunciation and it was my job to say words/phrases from the textbook so that the students knew how to say it. Aside from that, I would sing songs with them, play games, ask them questions, and reading to them! I wanted to learn all their names, but that was extremely challenging the first few weeks, especially with having entirely new students almost every week.

Classes would go by really fast and since the classroom was in my sensor’s house, on days when I stayed late, I was able to have dinner at her house. At those meals, sensei and her sister feed me their homemade bread and their handmade glass sculptures, and we would talk about Japanese culture, their family, and their past experiences in America.

As the weeks passed, and I started coming in only on Tuesdays, I got more comfortable with teaching. It’s fun to watch the students run around and hide before class, so they can jump out and scare each other. It’s even more amazing to watch their continuous growth week to week. They’ve gone from being shy and mumbling their unsure answers to proudly saying “Next Page” before I do, and loudly counting all the way to 20!

Each and every person involved in my CIP was so precious to me. I’ve been absolutely honored to be able to meet them!

Elise Cooper Nishi Honganji

When I was first deciding on my CIP (community involvement project), I originally jumped between a variety of ideas, but I mostly wanted to get involved with something related to my major, anthropology, such as potentially becoming a participant in a Japanese anthropology class. This led me down some really interesting paths and some interesting opportunities, but since the class I started to take wasn’t always in Japanese, it was decided that I couldn’t use it as my CIP. However, around the same time I was struggling to find something new to do, we happened to go to a Jodo Shinshuu (Pure Land Buddhist) temple called Nishi Honganji during a religious class, and I ended up becoming really interested in the services they held there. They had them three times a day for an hour each, so it was really easy to find time each week to go to the “dharma talks,” as they were called, which involved reading and discussing the dharma and then listening to a lecture from a priest there.

The people at the temple were always really kind to me, and I had the opportunity to really get out of the study abroad bubble and meet a great deal of different people. Particularly, talking to the Buddhist priests and getting to know them more personally was interesting because I had the stereotype that they would be very difficult to approach and highly reserved in all situations, but in actuality they often joked around and would talk freely at length about various topics. Perhaps the most surprising, indeed, was learning that not only does the Jodo Shinshuu school allows its monks to get married, but that the monks openly talk about their children and daily things like watching TV in services, which I assumed would be much more formal and ritualized than they actually were.

Indeed, in the West, particularly in terms of Christian monks, there is an expectation that if one is living at a monastery for religious purposes then they will be celibate and highly serious in their religious practices, but while it is likely that the monks at Nishi Honganji took their religious practices very seriously, celibacy in people living in temples in both Jodo Shinshuu and supposedly other sects as well was generally not practiced. One of the funniest, and most surprising experiences I had while attending the service, actually, was related to this idea because while most of the lectures and discussions had been focused around rather standard religious fare- treat others well, try to live your life as best as possible-, one of the recent lecturers repeatingly bemoaned his lack of wife as he was turning 45, something that, from my expectations of Christian monks, or even pastors, who would rarely discussed romantic relationships if they had them, I found fairly interesting, as well as funny as it was intended to be.

Therefore, though when people hear of my CIP they tend to think that it sounds daunting and that engaging with any aspect of Buddhist practices would be too difficult because of its formality and rigid practices, Nishi Honganji is not really like that at all. People there are very willing to engage with anyone who comes, and if one knows Japanese fairly well, the discussions themselves can be really interesting and funny, and can really serve to dismantle stereotypes about both Buddhism and about the monks themselves. If you have any interest in Buddhism, or even about Japanese religion in general, I would highly recommend Nishi Honganji services; I think that compared to some of the sects, Jodo Shinshuu is easier to get into without having much prior knowledge about the religion, and the people there are really nice and helpful.

Sofija Podvisocka: Fencing

One of the conditions depending on which I decided to study abroad at Doshisha University was the presence of a fencing team, since I needed a space to practice in order to rejoin Brown’s team upon my return. Doshisha’s fencing team operates with a system very different from the one I’m used to, due to the absence of a coach and the dependence on small groups to schedule their own practices, which included usually a warm-up and sparring, with a few days where we would give each other individual lessons. I would meet with the women’s epee team anywhere from two to four times a week, depending on everyone’s availability. 

Practicing with the Doshisha fencing team led me to better understand Japanese cultures in terms of the senpai/kouhai system, but also the progression from using respectful forms to casual speech as we got closer. Furthermore, since I was the youngest of the group, although I had the most experience with fencing, I was given very little responsibility in terms of practices. However, as time went on and the boundary between me and the upperclassmen began to dissipate, I was allowed more say in what the practices entailed, and could even lead some of our drills. 

That being said, Doshisha’s fencing team reminded me in many ways of my own. No matter the differences in speech between Japanese and English, the struggles of the student-athlete remain the same. Between balancing classes and practices, making time to focus on this extracurricular, and the comradery of the team dynamic, I felt very much immersed in the same society as I was back home. 

For future KCJS students thinking about their CIP going into their study abroad experience, my main piece of advice would be to choose not based on the subject of the CIP entirely, but also based on the community you would be involving yourself in. Focus on building relationships throughout the semester just as you would back home, even though there’s an expiration date hovering in your mind you can’t always ignore. The CIP itself might be temporary, but what you learn from it will remain ever-present.

Sophie Matsumoto: Bible Study

When I came to Japan, I wanted to get involved in Japanese life in a way that felt natural for me. I am involved in a Christian organization on the Cornell campus, and I was hoping to get involved in one on the Doshisha campus. I found out about KGK イエス会through a teacher and some friends, and I decided to attend their Monday afternoon Bible study. Since majority of the members are Japanese students, we read and discuss the Bible in Japanese. We have been reading through the book of Revelation each week. As one of the more complicated books in the Bible, it has been difficult to understand in a language that is not my mother tongue. However, I have been able to learn a lot from reading both the English translation and the Japanese translation. It has been a great experience for me in terms of improving my Japanese vocabulary knowledge, learning about Japanese culture, and learning more about the Bible.

When it came to the discussions, I noticed how they differed from ones I was used to in America. In America, I was accustomed to loud discussions where people are quick to speak their opinion. While it is important to express one’s opinion, I really appreciated how all of the Japanese students would take the time to try to understand everyone’s opinions before expressing their own. It is a style of discussion that I would like to take home to America with me because it makes people unafraid to share their feelings and opinions.

After living in Japan for a while, I have come to realize how Christian community looks different in Japan compared to what it looks like in America. Since Japan has such a small population of Christians, I found it to be a little more difficult to find a Christian community here. America has many places for people to find community, so people sometimes switch from group to group or place to place. In Japan, however, there are not too many places to find the community they want, but since it is difficult to find, people treasure it when they do find it. They create a small support system for the people in their community and act as an open space for anyone to join. Since everyone knows each other for the most part, they are able to get to know each other better and offer support easily. I really appreciated feeling a part of their community immediately by getting to have conversations with each person individually. The students in the Bible study have all been extremely welcoming to everyone.

It has been interesting to learn about what Christianity in Japan and America looks like from the other students’ perspectives. We have been able to discuss differences in culture and the way Christianity can be framed within them. For example, although people in Japan and America identify as Christian, values differ from person to person in both countries. Another example is the culture surrounding religion and the perception of American mega churches from Japanese people. Although many of our discussions revolved around serious topics, we have had a lot of fun just getting together and reading the Bible. Besides weekly Bible studies, they hold occasional events, such as takoyaki parties, where everyone just spends time together to get to know one another. Being a part of this group has obviously been a great way for me to learn more about Japan and the Bible, but it has also been a great way for me to make friends. It has allowed me to get more involved on the Doshisha campus and feel more at home in Japan.