Samuel Wachtel: Kyoto Daigaku Karate Club

For my CIP, I joined the Kyoto University Varsity Karate Team. It’s been a really fun and challenging semester with them, and I’ve learned a lot, about both Karate and Japanese culture.

Before coming to Japan, I had trained Karate for a little over 10 years in America. American Karate has no central organization at all, and varies a lot place to place. However, Karate as a sport is not very popular in the US, so most people (and, therefore, most dojos) in the US are practicing to get involved with the art and culture, and to learn self-defense. In this particular collegiate karate team, we practice very sport-focused karate, which was a big shift for me.

Traditionally, karate consists of basics, sparring, and Kata (forms). In this club, everyone does only either sparring or Kata. They put me with the sparring people. We essentially practiced fencing with our hands. For example, they place a huge amount of emphasis on stomping your foot to make an impressive sound just as you retract your fist. Of course, this means always striking the opponent while standing on one foot, which is not remotely practical.

I became good friends with the Karate club. Everyone there is friendly and helpful. Particularly, my various Senpai and I became quite close. During club hours, they would teach me. Outside of club hours, we are the same grade level, so we always go out and eat together after practice. I have learned that, while my American Karate club is close, Japanese clubs are part club, part business, and part fraternity. Already graduated Senpai even regularly come to practice. I have a feeling that I will count as part of their group for many years to come.

Nia Lambert: Koto and Shamisen Lessons

This past semester, I decided to continue studying Koto, which I had been playing for roughly half a year at my home institution.  As a result, I initially came in with the expectation that lessons would be pretty much the same as my typical group lessons.

In the end, I believe private lessons provided me a unique opportunity to not only learn more technical tricks but also to gain a deeper understanding of music and discussing music in Japanese.  Reaching those realizations, however, was initially very difficult.  On my first class, especially, I was amazed that after all of my hours and hours of studying Japanese, I didn’t understand a word my teacher said.  I later came to realize it was because she used Kansai dialect.  If she hadn’t been playing the Koto with me I would have had no idea what she was asking me to do.  I was overwhelmed, and even wound up making silly mistakes like saying 行ってきます(ittekimasu=I’ll be back, but used only when you leave your home) after class.  However, this language barrier forced me to listen even closer and to constantly ask questions, which thankfully made me more comfortable with my teacher.

Around half-way through the semester, I met a Japanese friend who is studying English and preparing to study abroad next semester.  He takes really diligent notes on all the English phrases, idioms, and words that he hears pretty much all of the time.   From looking at his notes and its benefits with his language study, I figured I would give it a try for my CIP.  It was by far one of the best decisions for my studies.  Not only did it let me keep track of new vocabulary and phrases, it helped me pay closer attention to general speaking, be unabashedly inquisitive when I didn’t understand, and opened up different conversations that in turn taught me interesting everyday objects and phrases.  For example, tying string into a bow or “bunny ears” is called 蝶々結び(chyou chyou musubi) or a butterfly knot.  During my newfound confidence I also began studying Shamisen.  This new study unexpectedly lead to a plethora of conversations about different materials, finger and plucking styles, and words to describe the moods associated with certain note changes.

Through my CIP I’ve been able to understand far more Kansai words likeもういっぺん, わからへん、ちゃう、ええ instead of いい、and so much more.  Currently I’m working on 春の海 (Haru no Umi), a very difficult traditional koto piece, and look forward to learning more about the different cultural and linguistic words and phrases associated with traditional Japanese music.

 

Two of my Sensei's more expensive 撥(ばち)or picks for Shamisen.  The white  one is made of elephant tusk and tortoiseshell.

Two of my Sensei’s more expensive 撥(ばち)or picks for Shamisen. The white one is made of elephant tusk and tortoiseshell.

This is an antique shamisen from the the Edo period.  The face painted is an お多福(おたふく)面 or mask of a homely woman.

This is an antique shamisen from the the Edo period. The face painted is an お多福(おたふく)面 or mask of a homely woman.

This is the koto my sensei lent me to practice throughout the semester.   I have it in my 和室(わしつ),or Japanese style room, in my homestay.

This is the koto my sensei lent me to practice throughout the semester. I have it in my 和室(わしつ),or Japanese style room, in my homestay.

 

Bohan Li: Shamisen

Before I came to KCJS I hadn’t really decided what to participate in. Not all the programs would provide with such good chances for students to be involved in Japanese society. And I really hoped that I could take advantage of it. It took me a long time to think about what goal would I want to achieve at the end of semester. Is it a deep understanding of Japanese society? Or it could be getting to know about the working environment in Japanese since I have the idea to work in Japan after graduation? After careful consideration and getting advices from my teacher, I finally decided to practice Shamisen as my CIP program.

My initial consideration was that as a traditional and Japan-only instrument, Shamisen could be a good tool for me to learn about traditional Japanese music and arts. In China we actually have the similar instrument but nowadays most people don’t know more about it. However, after been imported to japan and assimilated to Japanese culture, Shamisen plays important part of Japanese「邦楽」. I would like to learn more about the spread and development of Shamisen through time.

At the beginning I thought it should be a group class that one teacher sits in the front and students follows teachers instruction and practicing. But then I found out that instead of a Shamisen class, it is more like an amateur’s club. Usually they have typical groups that practice same songs and meet regularly once a week. I was really nervous when I first meet with them. Partly because most of the members are elder people, I was worried that they would not be happy if a foreigner suddenly joined their private group. However, I was welcomed and even taken care of by them. They were curious about my past experience related to Japan, and would also like to tell me their personal relation to China, such as travel experience or business with Chinese partner. I was surprised because this is very different from things I learned from the Japanese minorities class that Japanese people would be offended if someone intend to enter their private group. Even I only joined them for few classes, I feel like I have already become a part of their party. Also, practicing Shamisen is a hart task for me since I had almost zero knowledge about string instrument. And because the Shamisen pick is actually really heavy, I had a hard time learning the basic rules like how to sit, rest my wrist and hold the ばち(picks) in the correct way. It was painful at the beginning, but when I firstly played a whole song, I felt that all the efforts were worthwhile.

I really want to thank my teacher Iwazaki Chieko sensei. She brought me into their club and also the area of traditional Japanese music. From her I learned not just about Shamisen as a instrument, but also how traditional Japanese aesthetics are changing and integrated with modern society. The insistence of Japanese artists and awareness of modern culture make Japan the special place that can retain its culture so well when other countries are somehow ignoring and losing their traditions.

 

Yun Zhang: Kyoto Manga Class

For this semester, I joined the 京都まんが教室 for my CIP. Although the course fee is a little bit expensive, I’d say it’s totally worth it, mainly because it is where you could have a real cultural communication with people who really understand you.

The most precious thing I experienced from this CIP is the feeling of getting into a real Japanese circle where I belong. Different from the general anime or manga club I’ve joined in the US, this class is more like a doujin-based fan circle. Since most of the students in the manga class are young ladies around the same age, we mostly watch same types of anime and have interests in same kinds of stuff(e.g. shipping). Thus, there are never too many topics to chat about, from which I get to pick up a lot of unique language that is only used within the Japanese anime-fan circle. However, since it is kind of an advanced course, the format of “teaching” almost doesn’t exist. Basically, you just draw whatever you like in every class, and the instructors will give some personal advice and instructions on your drawings. Since I don’t have any essential knowledge of drawing anime characters or manga before, the level is way too high for me. (Other students are all doujin artists.)

Therefore, here is my advice for those who might be interested: If you love anime/Japanese pop culture, and want to experience the feeling of really being one of the Japanese anime fans, don’t hesitate to participate in the manga class. However, if all you want is to learn how to draw manga and do not have any essential knowledge, I would suggest taking a more formal course that focuses on teaching basic skills of drawing manga.

Nicholas Niculescu: My Time at Klexon

My CIP was participating in an English speaking circle called Klexon. This circle takes place every Tuesday from 7 to 9 pm. This CIP is a unique one, unlike some other CIP’s, like a martial art or private lessons, it allowed me to interact with many different Japanese people from many different walks of life. I had the opportunity to talk to both college students and people working today. The sessions had a general structure. The first hour would consist of 10 minute talks with 6 people, and the second hour had us in a group of 4 to 6 doing group working together. It was during this hour I was able to speak Japanese with my partners.

While practicing my Japanese is was excellent, what I really had a chance to do is look at different Japanese people and learn about their experiences learning English. It is interesting from my perspective, I am normally in the opposite situation every day in Japan so to see from the opposite perspective was an interesting one. I learned a number of different things. First I learned very intricate things about learning new languages and trying to learn new words. When my Japanese conversation partners attempted lo learn a new expression, they would generally ask if the expression can be used by itself. I always said it had to be said in context.

There were a couple of interesting observations during my time at Klexon. Everyone thought I was a English teacher before I explained to them that I was a student, and oppositely I thought everyone was a university student if they were not wearing a suit. It was a funny thing every time the mistake occurred. A more serious observation is that many people are studying for the purposes of their job. I would rarely hear reasons like “oh I just want to use it for traveling”.

The final observation that I saw was that everyone was very courageous. I know how it feels to attempt to speak a foreign language to a native speaker and how nervous it can be. Yet every single partner I talked with did their best to practice their English.  I know a little about English teaching in Japan, and I know it is primarily taught from a text book, however, in these sessions I see people who know that is not enough and they attempt to learn English the best way they can, by practicing.

Victoria Tissot: Bazaar Cafe & English Tutoring at Kamigyō Junior High School

I never thought choosing a CIP activity would be a difficult task. From the moment I finished reading the CIP section of the KCJS website, my mind was set on teaching English. Since I have been teaching language classes as a hobby from middle school to college, I decided to continue my passion in Japan with the KCJS program and began to volunteer as an English tutor at a local middle school. When I started my CIP, just entering the school for the first time to introduce myself was an adventure in itself; from taking my shoes off and putting slippers on, to seeing children cleaning up their own school after classes were over, this experience allowed me to learn so much about Japanese culture.

To my surprise, teaching English to Japanese students was nothing like I expected it to be. First of all, I imagined myself assisting an English teacher and her students in the middle of class. Instead, I was asked to tutor students individually, a much more personal way of teaching that I was not familiar with, since I had been used to teaching a big group of students. When we first met, the students were just as nervous as I was, but after a couple of questions, and as I tried to be as friendly and carefree as possible, I was able to create a more relaxing environment and made sure the students understood that it was alright to make mistakes. Even though I had originally thought that teaching English would be an easy task for me, I was surprised at how difficult it actually was, both for me and my students. There was always some miscommunication, and the hardest part was making sure the students understood the way I translated some English words and grammar to them. The student and teacher interaction also gave me more insight on Japanese culture; I found it curious that, even though I tried to act more as a friend and student to them, all the students still treated me with a lot of respect and politeness, as if they were speaking to their middle school teachers. In the end, tutoring English was just as much of a learning experience for me as for my students. Every week, I would try to alter my teaching methods and find better ways of helping my students. For instance, instead of merely explaining certain words and grammar out loud in English, I would write them down on a paper and ask the students to read and repeat. This unique experience in Japan gave me a new perspective on teaching, especially since I am contemplating the possibility of becoming a language teacher in the future.

My tutoring classes unfortunately only lasted two weeks, and I was very sad to find out that the school would not be needing my help anymore, especially since the semester was already finishing by the time I started to volunteer. I then began a second CIP activity: volunteering at Bazaar café, a café located across the street from Doshisha University. Since I had always wanted to work at a café or restaurant back home, but never found the time or the opportunity to do so, and since I also preferred a more individual activity instead of joining a club, Bazaar café was the perfect opportunity for me. So far, my experience at Bazaar café has been phenomenal. Not only have I been learning so much about how to run a café, but I have also been practicing my Japanese as I interact with the friendly staff and make new friends.

 

Alexa Machnik: Japanese Book Restoration at ARC

Over two semesters at KCJS, I have been training with a paper restoration team at the Ritsumeikan University Art Research Center (ARC). At ARC, I work mainly with damaged Japanese bound books dating to the Edo period. In most cases I encounter books containing full-page illustrations devoured by worms and beetles. Therefore, when beginning a new project, the severity of the damage is first evaluated and then, based on the amount of surface loss, a suitable treatment is decided on. The standard methods used to mend these areas of loss are known as infilling (tsukuroi) and back-lining (urauchi). Both methods serve different purposes, but are similar in the way that washi paper, sympathetic in thickness and tone of the damaged paper, is adhered with starch paste (nori) to treat the loss.

While incredibly valuable, the technical skills I have acquired only describe a single side of my experience at ARC. Twice a week, as I continue to practice my techniques, I also engage in a facet of the Japanese work community. As expected, this has led to quite a few interesting cultural and language exchanges. First of all, the restoration team consists of a total of three people, all middle-aged women. Everyone is on a different working schedule, so when I go to ARC I am usually working alongside Nakamura-san, the head of the restoration team.

When I first began training at ARC, the most challenging barrier I faced was communication. I was afraid to hold conversations and I struggled to understand the directions that I was being told, even when heavily aided by Google translate. This semester, however, it is undeniable that living in Kyoto has improved my ear for both standard Japanese and “Kansai-ben”, the local dialect, and has opened up new opportunities to be more interactive within ARC. For instance, being able to better communicate with the team has helped me understand in greater depth the reasoning behind a certain restoration principle. In result, I now take part in the evaluation process when beginning a new project. For students who may face a similar situation, my advice would be not to feel afraid to ask questions or start a conversation! In my case, the team became excited to teach me more when they saw, through the questions I was asking, my interest and curiosity in art restoration.

Sitting for long periods of time meticulously trimming washi paper and preparing starch paste in a large wooden vat becomes taxing on the shoulders and eyes, but I have discovered that I can refocus my attention through conversation. Oftentimes I become so accustomed to speaking casually in conversation that when it comes to expressing gratitude, I carelessly neglect social etiquette and forget to attach the formal “gozaimasu” to my informal “arigatou”. I am corrected instantly, and my honest mistake reinforces the importance of maintaining a formal student-teacher relationship when dealing with work-related matters. However, I was told that if “arigatou gozaimasu” is too long, I could always opt for the Kansai-equivalent, “ookini”. Apparently, if used towards a Kansai-native, “ookini” carries the same formal weight as “gozaimasu”. I have yet to try it out.

As the semester is reaching its end, I still feel that there is a lot I could improve in terms of restoration. At least once or twice per week, I make a careless mistake in my work, leading Nakamura-san to address me by “onesan”, which translates to “older sister”. Since I am the youngest of the group, I was initially confused as to why I was being called “onesan”. However, seeing that I am only called this when I overlook a mistake, perhaps it is an indirect message that I should to be more careful next time. Nevertheless, I feel respected in my position, and while I rarely receive any direct compliments from Nakamura-san, I can sense through her patience that she is silently supporting me in both my language and restoration endeavors.

With that said, I would like to thank KCJS for giving students the opportunity to step out into the Kyoto community through CIP, as well as ARC for taking care of me throughout this year. This experience is one I will continue to carry with me as I continue my studies in Japanese and art restoration.

Ookini!

Lauren Guz: Cooking Classes

For my CIP I took cooking classes at La Carriere.  I was the only foreigner in my classes which made it a really interesting experience.  In the first few classes I wasn’t able to understand most of the directions, and had to rely on watching more than listening, but as classes went on I started to pick up more and more words.  Eventually I could ask about specific cuts, what heat to put the stove to, etc.  My Japanese in regard to specific food and cooking techniques was probably not 100% correct, but I was able to get my meaning across, and being able to communicate better translated into the food I made, which also became better and better.  I also had opportunities to talk to Japanese women, ranging in age from 18 to 70, which gave me many opportunities to practice all speech styles, from casual to polite and even keigo.

After a long day of regular college classes and studying, listening to Japanese for a few hours could be tiring, but it was always worth it when I could sit down with the women and eat the delicious food we had made.  Everyone was always really nice to me, and it was a great experience.

It provide me a place and a role in Japanese society as an actual individual and not just a foreigner.  Usually when I try to integrate myself into Japanese society, my role in the setting would very much be defined by being a foreigner.  However, when I was in the cooking classes I was just another student there to learn how to cook.

John Webb:Neuroscience at Kyoto University

My CIP is working at a neuroscience lab at Kyoto University. I learned about the lab from my research mentor at Washington University in St. Louis. The lab is in the same field, circadian rhythms, that I do research in back in America, so I was quite familiar with the techniques and experimental goals of the lab, making the transition from that perspective quite easy.

The research questions that the Okamura lab is interested in asking is: “What are the mechanisms behind 24-hour rhythms in our daily life that determine when we get up in the morning and when we go to bed at night?” By more thoroughly understanding these mechanisms, they hope to develop therapies that could alleviate the effects of shift work and jet lag, as well as some types of depression.

The project I worked on tried to parse out the relationship between two genes involved in the sleep-wake cycle. I also learned quite a few new experimental techniques.

The science and the experimental procedures are basically the same as in America, but the lab culture is quite different. In America, graduate students usually have input on their projects can help shape them. This helps give the graduate students experience of being intellectually engaged and shaping a project, a skill that can help them later in life. In the Okamura lab, projects are usually handed down in a dictatorial manner, and most of the graduate students had little say in their projects.

There was also a stark difference in the number of women working in the lab. In America, women outnumber the men. In the Okamura lab, however, they represent only 20 percent of the lab, and there were no female postdocs. In the room I worked in with 8 people, there were no women. I hadn’t realized that this would be the case so it surprised me.

I was also surprised to learn that there were no Japanese scientific journals. Japanese scientists consume new science and publish exclusively in English. I hadn’t quite realized the prominence of English in the scientific community before this.

There was also a feeling of less collaboration between labs compared to what is common in America. For instance, in America it is common for entire floors or departments to get together for a happy hour or other social event on Fridays. I never heard or saw anything like that at Kyoto University. There was still socialization, but it was more often within the same lab. The lab in Japan is a bit of a closer unit compared to what exists in America so it makes sense to me that they would do more of their socializing within their close-knit group.

The working hours were also much longer. Typically, in America, people would work from 10 until 6. When I would stay later to finish an experiment, typically until 9pm, I found that almost half of the people in the Okamura lab were still working. My boss, Doi-sensei, would leave to eat dinner with his family, but then come back into lab to continue working until 2am. When I came back after a lab outing at midnight to collect my experimental results, he was still sitting at his desk with the lights out alone, staring at his computer screen. Also, since they had lab meeting every Saturday at 10am, it was practically expected that you work a six-day week. There are of course people who work hard in America, but its not quite as expected.

Also, the graduate student system is different. At Kyoto University, for your entire senior year, you work in a lab instead of taking classes. This basically forces everyone to work in a lab for a year, something you don’t see in America. Over 90% of Kyoto University’s graduate students come from their undergraduate program. Unlike in America, though, where you’re give a stipend to attend graduate school, in Japan you have to pay the school.

Also, I heard almost no keigo in the lab. When they were talking to their superiors, they would use desu/masu form but not keigo. For instance, when a university student would talk to a graduate student, they would use desu/masu, but not keigo. And then, when they were outside of the lab getting lunch or dinner, they would always use informal Japanese, even if there was different in their rankings. However, when they were outside of the lab with one of the sensei’s, they would still use desu/masu. When I asked them about not using keigo they said that it was difficult to use so they typically didn’t use it.

Overall, though, the people have been very nice and welcoming and I have learned a lot from this experience.

Jimmy Scheckowitz: Cooking Classes; Shamisen Lessons

In order to fulfill my Community Involvement Project requirements, I am fortunate to have been given the privilege to participate in two activities that I had been interested in since before coming to Kyoto: taking cooking classes and learning to play the shamisen.

Once a month, I have participated in cooking classes with the Kyoto Cooking Circle at Wings Kyoto, a community center located near the Karasuma-Oike subway station. For a small price of ¥1000 per class, I have not only had the opportunity to learn homestyle Japanese recipes, such as kiritanpo, a style of nabe native to Akita prefecture, but I have also been able to converse with a wide variety of Japanese people, from Doshisha students to the elderly. As such, Kyoto Cooking Circle has provided me with a great chance to fulfill my goal of learning new Japanese recipes, while also giving me the opportunity to utilize and improve my Japanese outside the classroom.

With cooking classes at Kyoto Cooking Circle only being offered once a month, for each week when these classes have not been in session, I have instead taken private shamisen lessons in Ibaraki, a city in Osaka prefecture. Under the tutelage of my teacher Chimura-sensei, I have quickly learned a number of songs, such as “Sakura Sakura,” “Tanko Bushi,” and “Tsugaru Jongara Bushi.” Furthermore, similar to my experience with the Kyoto Cooking Circle, I have also been able to speak regularly with Chimura-sensei, which has helped me in becoming more comfortable in Japanese conversation. As such, taking shamisen lessons have also allowed me to fulfill one of my goals, while being able to practice my Japanese in the process.

Through both my cooking classes and shamisen lessons, I have also learned about a number of aspects and customs pertaining to Japanese culture that I would have not found out about elsewhere. Most strikingly, from my first cooking class, I learned that Japanese children are given more self-responsibility and freedom than those in America. For example, one of Kyoto Cooking Circle’s teachers allows her two boys, who are approximately eight to ten years old, to contribute to the class’ cooking by using sharp knives to chop up vegetables. Having grown up in America and seen numerous parents prevent their children from doing anything even remotely dangerous, I was almost shocked to see the two Japanese kids contributing and acting on their own. As such, I first encountered the level of freedom and independence Japanese children are given at my first cooking class. In terms of my shamisen lessons, I have noticed that there are many differences between individual music lessons in the United States and Japan. From my experience, I’ve found that guitar lessons in the United States would be focused on correctly playing every note of every song I learn. However, Chimura-sensei has explained to me that rather than playing a song perfectly, it is more important to put soul into my shamisen playing. Essentially, Chimura-sensei has emphasized that having a nice sound or tone in my playing is more important than playing every song I learn perfectly. As such, I have noticed that perhaps Japanese music lessons are more focused on playing songs with heart and soul, without having to be perfect, while in the United States, perfection was the goal.

As a whole, my experiences with Kyoto Cooking Circle and Chimura-sensei’s shamisen lessons have been extremely rewarding. In the process of having two Community Involvement Project activities, I have only only fulfilled my goals of learning to cook Japanese food and to play the shamisen, but I also have improved my Japanese and made a number of Japanese friends. As such, I highly recommend learning to cook or to play the shamisen as a CIP to anyone interested in either activity!