「KCJS Year」カテゴリーアーカイブ

Nicolle Bertozzi: Kubota Birendo Sudare

投稿日時: 投稿者:

IMG_2781

This semester for my Community Involvement Project, I have been working with the Kubotas, a family of Kyoto artisans who make sudare screens for private homes and temples. Once a week, I go to their shop near Shijo, where I learn about the craft of sudare making and, through conversations with the artisans themselves, about life as an artisan in one of the most historical cities in the world.

One of the things that has stood out most clearly to me through working with the Kubotas is how closely their line of work connects them with traditional culture of Japan. In a country as modernized as Japan, it can be difficult sometimes to find traces of the culture’s long and rich history. When I’ve asked Japanese friends about their exposure to some of the most known traditional elements of Japanese culture—the kinds of traditional elements like shodo calligraphy and sado tea ceremony that are often presented to foreigners during cultural exchange events—their responses are largely of non-interest. For the artisans of Kyoto, however, this is not the case. The very nature of their work forces them to confront the divide between traditional and modern lifestyles in Japan on a daily basis. And as a result of this, they often find themselves exploring other aspects of traditional culture, aspects that have no connection to their particular craft.

Through working with the Kubotas on my own sudare, through talking with them as I bound the bamboo together strip-by-strip with twisting threads, I found that our conversations often tended to drift to this topic. Over a cup of matcha tea one week, we wound up talking about the tradition of the tea ceremony, something that I had been asked to participate in for cultural exchange events many times but still knew next to nothing about. When I mentioned this, Shinji Kubota, the oldest son and next in line to inherit the family business, began to tell me about how working as an artisan had inspired him to study tea ceremony. Although most Japanese had very little interest in the ceremony, had never even experienced one themselves, he found the ceremony beautiful and has been studying it for many years. Mayu, Shinji’s younger sister, also mentioned how central their background as traditional artisans was in sparking their shared interest in the ceremony.

When I came in the next week, I found the tatami room cleared and prepared for a tea ceremony. A piece of calligraphy hung in the tokonoma, beneath which sat a flower arrangement. Water boiled away in a kettle over the fire of the sunken ro hearth. Shinji and Mayu took me through the ceremony, explaining how every proper tea ceremony had a theme, which the host decided upon and would then carefully select each utensil to match. Through inquiring about the particular calligraphy piece hanging in the tokonoma, for example, you would be able to work your way through the various connections it shared with the other utensils of the ceremony. This ability to appreciate details is one of the most important elements of the ceremony.

The care with which Shinji and Mayu then walked me through the ceremony was truly amazing. It was clear how much they respected the ceremony’s tradition, how much they wanted to do justice to its history. Which of course connects to the way they treated their own craft as well. Throughout this whole semester, I have noticed lots of very tiny ways in which the Kubotas honor the history and tradition of their craft. They explained to me, for example, how the natural darkening of bamboo material over time is something beautiful, something worth noticing and appreciating. Which I don’t think is something I would have thought about in that way before.

My time with the Kubotas this semester has broadened my understanding of traditional Japanese culture as it exists in the modern age. Through making my own sudare, I have come to appreciate the incredible level of craftsmanship that goes into the making and maintaining of these traditional crafts. And through exploring the connections that exist between those who are continuing Japan’s craft tradition and those who are carrying on other aspects of the traditional culture, I have come to see the degree to which these traditions are still very much alive, still being constantly innovated.

IMG_3193

Angel Mui: Shamisen Lessons + Cooking School Lessons

投稿日時: 投稿者:

For me choosing and settling down on a suitable CIP had been a long process. I took shamisen lessons for the first half of the semester and ended up taking cooking lessons as my CIP instead. Since I am in Kyoto, at first I had my mind set on learning some form of traditional Japanese art as a CIP, which I eventually settled down on learning the instrument, shamisen. Through my Japanese teacher, I was introduced to a shamisen instructor and she offered to give me free lessons once a week. The lessons took place in a small room filled with various instruments (shamisens and kotos, etc) on the 2nd floor of a jazz cafe/bar near Teramachi Shijo. The lessons were not actual one to one lessons, but was more similar to a recital. There are usually 4-8 people in the room putting together and practicing the same song. For me, because I had no previous experience with the instrument prior to coming to Japan, this type of lesson did not suit me well. Although it was interesting to be able to play along with the group while improvising, I felt that I needed something more to fulfill my goal of doing something that suits me while still being able to interact and be integrated into a group.

I decided to take a Japanese cooking class at a cooking school called La Carrière, located at Kawaramachi Sanjo. I really enjoyed learning how to make not only Japanese dishes, but also Western dishes and learning how to bake cakes while interacting with the teachers and other students. The program that I enrolled in allows me to take most basic courses from their schedule, excluding the more advance Wagashi and Kyoto Cuisine classes. The classes are taught fully in Japanese and being the only non-Japanese student there, I really had to learn a lot of cooking-related vocabulary in order to keep up with the class. However, the students and teachers are very welcoming and did not treat me in any special way simply because I am a foreigner. Usually there are 2-3 people sharing a station and although we usually do not talk much while we prepare the ingredients and cook; we do make conversations afterwards while enjoying the meal we have just prepared.

Although I am in Kyoto for only one semester, I have learned a lot from my CIP. One of the most important thing is to know what suits you and what does not. If something does not suit you well and does not work out even after you have really put a great deal of effort into it, it is alright to start anew. For me, starting anew actually takes a lot more courage to do than to stay with an unsatisfactory situation. From my previous CIP experience, I learned how to properly quit. The necessary steps and the carefully presentation of the prepared speech, along with the tone of voice are all of importance. Regardless of what reasons were behind the decision, I learned that it is important to take responsibility and carefully end and say farewell without leaving any hard feelings. In other words, tie it with a good end.

That being said, I then moved on to another teacher-student environment, the cooking lessons. This time however, I was not only a student but also a consumer because I actually paid for the lessons. One thing that I have observed is that the level of politeness for the instructor is still present while the status of the two parties remain approximately the same. The teacher receives respect from the student but she is also the service provider. The students acknowledges the teacher, but they are also consumers. When compared to the shamisen classroom, the level of respect for the teacher who is wiser or more experienced in the subject is not as apparent. The atmosphere in the cooking classroom is, in other words, more balanced and relaxing because we are all on the same level. The social hierarchy does not really exist in this sort of environment.

Although there have been ups and downs, I have really thankful that I had taken the shamisen lessons instead of started with the cooking lessons. The ability to compare the learning environment of the two very different areas of skills and the different background of the students and the atmosphere created gave me much more insight into the Japanese culture.

 

Chelsea Hayashi: Doshisha Tennis Circle + Kyodai Tennis Club

投稿日時: 投稿者:

My biggest motivation and goal in studying abroad in Japan this semester was not only improving my Japanese, but also meeting and befriending Japanese students. I wanted to actually be a part of the Japanese world that someone my age in Japan experiences—not just one of a foreigner! As silly as it sounds, one thing I wanted to accomplish by the end of this semester was learn to text in Japanese. Yes, I could learn hundreds of kanji and grammar in class, but something as mundane as texting to meet up with a friend is something I could only learn by doing. It was these little, daily-life things that I wanted to gain from my CIP experience.

So, with all of this in mind, I chose to participate in a tennis circle at Doshisha as well as practice with the Kyodai tennis team. I’m on the varsity team at my home university, so this was not only a perfect way to continue playing a sport I love but also (hopefully) a way to stay in shape for when I return for my season.

I’ve learned a lot through my experiences, especially about the formalities and the ways of communication. Through the Japanese classes I have taken, I’d known about the importance and common use of keigo, but this was my first time utilizing it with people my age. Within Japanese colleges there is a strict and prevalent senpai/kohai relationship. In other words, “respect your elders” even if your “elders” are only one year ahead of you in college. Although in my experiences I was rarely treated as either a senpai or a kohai (I was just the abroad student who spoke enough Japanese but wasn’t Japanese), I still learned more about the appropriate levels of speech formality through my CIP than I ever had in a classroom. In getting in contact with various tennis circles, I had to send countless emails jam-packed with keigo, and I was surprised to receive emails back that had the same high formality—in America I feel like it’s bizarre to continue conversation with a peer in the same formal manner that you’d be talking to a professor. The Japanese peers I was with often called each other by last name (another distinct cultural distinction), although everyone still called me Chelsea-san. My Japanese peers were also more shy and reserved than I was used to, the high level of politeness off-putting to me at first, but I soon realized that this isn’t because they didn’t like me. Rather, Japanese interactions just start off a lot more formal and become more casual as they develop and strengthen. When a peer stops using keigo with you, that’s when you know they’ve accepted you as a friend.

I’m happy to say that through my CIP I’ve made friends, and I can now text in Japanese. However small of an accomplishment this may sound as, I feel good about it, and I’m grateful that my CIP was able to provide more learning than possible in any classroom.

 

Darbus Oldham: Irish Dance

投稿日時: 投稿者:

For my CIP, I am doing Irish dance. To provide a bit of background to that, I started Irish step dancing when I was in elementary school, have performed with a group that does a variety of styles of Irish and Scottish dancing for the past four years, and also do Irish ceili dancing for fun. Here in Kyoto, I’m doing two styles: set dancing, which is generally done with a group of eight, and modern step dancing, which is individual. In the set dancing class, which meets twice a month, we learn and do two or three dances each class. The monthly modern style class is divided into two halves: soft shoe and hard shoe. Irish (and Scottish) soft shoes are flexible, lightweight leather-soled shoes, whereas hard shoes are more like tap shoes. In each class, we work on a couple dances of each type, doing a mixture of learning new steps and reviewing old ones.

In the step dancing class, I’ve also had the opportunity to teach a couple of dance steps I know. This was an interesting challenge in and of itself, as I do not have a great deal of experience teaching step dancing in English, let alone Japanese, and so figuring out the best way to explain the footwork and timing and answer questions was definitely difficult. I ended up simply demonstrating the step or particularly challenging portions of it a number of times, which combined with some explanation generally ended up working.

On top of the regular set dancing class, one weekend there was a big event called a ceili. There was live music, and there were about a hundred people in attendance, a number of them from Tokyo, Osaka, and other places. The dances were a mixture of ones we had been practicing in class, ones we hadn’t, and one that I have done in the States.

In addition to the dancing, my CIP has also proved an opportunity for a wide variety of interesting conversations during breaks in the class and after class at dinner. For example, there have been discussions of differences between dialects and word order in English and Japanese, and I’ve learned a number of Japanese onomatopoeia and tried to explain a number of odd words and terms in English.

While Irish dance may seem like a strange choice for a CIP, it has worked out really well, I think in large part because I was hoping to dance here regardless of whether it was my CIP. I have previously found social dance to be a good way to meet people where I’m from and at school, and I was pleasantly unsurprised to find that to be the case here as well.

All that being said, I do have a cautionary note for future KCJS students looking at these blogs for inspiration for their own CIP: If you don’t have previous Irish dance experience (or maybe English country dance or contra for the set dancing), this is not the CIP for you. I would have been utterly lost had I not had some previous knowledge of set dancing and particularly of step dancing.

Sophie Kanetani: Yoshida Jidoukan

投稿日時: 投稿者:

For my CIP I volunteered at Yoshida Jidoukan which is an after school program that kids go to after school and while their parents are still at work. At this particular one, there are kids up to around twelve years old but the majority of the kids are in second and third grade and there are about sixty of them. Of course I can’t interact with all of them but I try to meet and play with a different group every week. It’s easy to pick out groups because the children form cliques amongst themselves and I just walk up to one of them and start talking to them. The kids are all really energetic and love to ask me questions. They also make fun of my Japanese but I was expecting that so it doesn’t really bother me. Although I have worked with kids before I did learn some new things, in particular, about myself during my CIP visits. I learned that I’m not a very outgoing person and that it is difficult for me to put myself out there, even with young kids who won’t judge in the same ways that fellow adults do. But because each visit we were supposed to try out a small task that we had come up with ourselves, I had many chances to improve myself in that aspect. I tried to talk to small groups of children and I slowly got more comfortable. 

Alan Aquino: KyoDai Light Music Circle コンペイトウ

投稿日時: 投稿者:

IMG_8274

I wanted to join a light music circle not only to improve at guitar and learn to sing in Japanese, but in small part due to the influence of Kyoto Animation’s K-On. Along with a healthy dose of other slice-of-life anime, joining seemed like the perfect way to inject myself into Japanese university life. At Doshisha, we KCJS kids really stick together. Fusokan and the cafeteria are our own little islands, and it’s difficult to break out of this bubble to interact with Japanese students. I was introduced to the circle thanks to the help of a Kyoto University student that I met during orientation, and after a few emails and twiddling my thumbs for the circle to get back from summer vacation, I dropped myself into the fast-speaking, slang-slinging world of Japanese college students.

コンペイトウ meets once a week every Wednesday in Yoshida Building 4 at 7:30pm, though they’re not meetings in the traditional sense. Rather, they’re live shows, showcasing two cover bands made up of members of the circle. Half of the fun are their ridiculous names like Bump of Chicken, My Room is Dirty, and Nicke L. Back (a metal band). The genres range from anime songs to thrash to punk rock. An impromptu stage area is created by unbolting desks and chairs at the front of the room, and the group shares a handful of amplifiers, monitors, and a well-worn orange Yamaha drum kit. Once the lights dim, the opening band begins, tearing through a full setlist of covers with a gusto and talent that’s hard to match. After a quick break to change equipment, the headliners come on, skillfully shredding their way through another set, and then one more as an encore. The first time I went, I thought that the final act played so well that the crowd couldn’t help but ask for one more song, but after subsequent visits, I realized that the circle always asks for an encore no matter how the band did.

That first night, I went with one of our CIP mantras in mind: sometimes it’s good to be just an observer, and other times it’s best for you to jump straight in. I kept weighing those options as the evening went on, finally getting my chance during equipment cleanup at the end of the concert. Even the club members who are a part of the circle just to listen help pitch in to move equipment and put the classroom back together. It was at this time that I jumped in without being asked, and before long, inquisitive club members noticed me and began striking up conversation. I’ve met new people every week, but one thing that happened every time, without fail, was how cool people thought it was that I was from Las Vegas. They seemed quick to accept me too, even with my meager A-Class-level Japanese. At times, they could pick up that my fluency was still quite slow and adapt, while others they would speak at fluent speeds and I strained to keep up, afraid of asking them to slow down. I think that knowing a handful of Japanese rock bands helped me a lot, as everyone seemed surprised that I knew some of their favorite groups.

Dropping myself into those situations has certainly helped my Japanese and my perception of Japanese culture, though. Where I before dreaded (and to be honest, still dread a little bit) having to use and decrypt keigo on the fly, it was only after my early email exchanges that I began to appreciate how respected you feel when your respondent replies back in keigo. Listening to a variety of native speakers has helped me to be able to usually be able to pick out the main points of what they say, even if I don’t completely understand. The “every student pitches in to clean up” thing, which is regarded in foreign countries as the epitome of Japanese schooling and something that every nation should aspire to, is perceived as completely normal and not worthy of any special attention here in Japan. My host mother had a good laugh when I explained America’s strange fascination with that.

My time in コンペイトウ hasn’t been without its faults. Joining a band hinges on being a part of their mailing list, which even after giving email to supposedly the correct person, it wasn’t until three weeks later that someone realized that I hadn’t actually been added. Other than that, the circle doesn’t facilitate practices; it seems like once you get into a group, you do everything on your own before signing up to perform. At this point in the semester when the error got caught, with finals, papers, and winter break looming, it doesn’t seem like I’ll actually get to participate until next semester. Even then, with the semester ending in March, I’m not sure how much time I’ll actually get to have being an active member of the circle. For paying their membership fee and bringing my guitar from America with high hopes, several months of music appreciation isn’t exactly what I signed up for. I also feel like I would be getting more out of it, or at least better able to voice my concerns, if my Japanese were a lot better than it currently is.

I’m trying to keep my chin up. Getting put on the spot in conversation, without the aid of a conversation script or a dictionary, isn’t something that the formal teaching of a Japanese class can really prepare you for. You can only get better at with a lot of practice. At the start of the semester I was pretty concerned with speaking perfectly and figuring out the right words to use, but now I’ve loosened up and just speak as best I can, talking around what I’ve forgotten or what I don’t know, experimenting with new words and expressions that I’ve picked up from friends and from class.

Studying abroad here in Japan for a year makes me feel as if I’m living a double life. Truly, I’m shelving my life back in America for a few months, and injecting myself into something new and unfamiliar. Everything has a parallel — English for Japanese, my real family for my host family, Doshisha for Penn. But コンペイトウ doesn’t really have an American equivalent for me. I don’t have a group in America where I can let unwind for a few hours, talk excitedly about music, get insight into a foreign culture, and listen to two bands kill it once a week. I’m hoping that in time, hopefully soon, I’ll get to be up on stage in one of those too.

Jordan LaPointe: Assistant English Teacher at Ohara Gakuin

投稿日時: 投稿者:

For my CIP I went to Ohara Gakuin every week as an Assistant Language Teacher. Once a week, immediately after class I would take a train and a bus to Ohara, then a short walk to the school. (On a related note, Ohara is a beautiful place during the fall and has a few reputable walking paths leading into the mountains. I highly recommend exploring the area after your CIP or on your own time. ) Part of my reason for pursuing this CIP was to determine if I wanted to apply for a JET teaching position after graduation. First, I would eat lunch with the students, and then I would either play games or assist with English instruction, ranging from vocabulary to reading comprehension. In addition, I was able to go to a school festival and watch the students perform skits and musical pieces.

I think the Ohara experience was unique in that I was able to interact with a wide range of students, from grades 1 to 8, going to different classes every week. This allowed me to observe how students of different age groups interact with each other and the forms of Japanese they use. I was also able to see the different teaching styles used by the English instructors depending on the age of the students. In respect to my participation, I enjoyed almost all of my interactions with the students and teachers. Although I was initially instructed to pretend to not understand Japanese in the presence of the students, I quickly realized that I would need to utilize my Japanese skills from time to time to coax the students into talking with me. However, this proved to be good practice for me to develop my language skills, particularly when helping students translate what they wanted to say from Japanese to English during our conversations. English Professors Kameda and Morimoto were also very easy to get along with and actively encouraged the students to interact with me during lunch and instruction time.

My main suggestion to students seeking to do this CIP is to have patience. You’ll be interacting with elementary and middle schoolers, with the latter group beginning to deal with the challenges of young adulthood. While a student may be difficult to communicate with one week, it might be a completely different experience the next week so keep an open mind. Additionally, the English instruction, especially with the younger grades, may seem too slow at times, but it’s important to remember that language instruction not just about communication but also about exposing students to a new culture and way of thinking; at the very least, just your presence can have an impact on their lives.

Yuqi Yin: Chorus Circle in Kyoto Univerisity

投稿日時: 投稿者:

My CIP is participating the chorus in Kyoto University. They have regular practice three times a week, including one for male part only, one for female part only, and one for the whole chorus. They are preparing for the on-stage performance at the end of the semester, on December 23rd. The practice consists of two part: the muscle training and the voice tanning. The muscle training was designed to strengthen the muscle around waist and stomach in order to produce a better quality of voice.

I learned how to read stave through the practice. I used to be able to read it because I learned piano for several years when I was little. However, I’ve totally forgot anything piano-related before I came to Japan. I think it is a great opportunity for me to picking it up again. Also, What I noticed about Japanese student, or the Kyoto University student, was that they were all very serious about the practice. Although the group leaders always said that if one didn’t feel well, she or he can rest at home, there was very few people did not participate in the practice. Even when they had cold, they wore masks to the practice. I think it might be a general characteristic of Japanese, or, at least, Kyoto University students.

There are less communication during the practice than I thought. In my mind, college circles such as clubs in American colleges are the place where one gets to know new people and socialize, but the chorus hardly offer any chance. Also, there are some after-practice activity that members are merely going so often because they are so busy in studying. Although the communication is not enough during the practice, there are some other events that are opened to chorus members. They have picnic events every month and some special event depending on the time of the year. I went to one of the special event, Tsukimi (appreciating the moon), and had a chance to really talk to some members. However, most of them were too shy to start a conversation with.

It is also very interesting that they have a nick name system, which I think really changed the hierarchy system in Japanese college circles. It is usual that in circle kouhai has to be respectful to senpai because kouhai tends to have less experience. In the chorus, I think it is because of the nick name system that members are not as distant as an normal circle with a lot of members. It is also common in the chorus that a senpai make a nick name for a kouhai, and it seemed that there is one girl that is really good at creating nick name for everyone.

I appreciate the chance of having CIP within Japanese local community or university circles, and I do think that the CIP helped me understand Japanese college circles, at least the Kyoto University chorus. If I were to give any advice, I think that finding an activity that you like is very important as sensei said, but the time of the CIP is also very important. To consider both whether you like the activity you chose or not and if the time of the activity fits you schedule is extremely important.

Sol Lee: Ceramics at Asahiyaki Studio

投稿日時: 投稿者:

Before I arrived in Japan, I knew that I had to pick an activity for the Community Involvement Project, otherwise known as CIP. Because Kyoto has a long history and culture of artisans, I decided that I wanted to involve myself in the arts in one way or another. There were so many options but the reason I chose ceramics in particular is that I had thoroughly enjoyed my experience when I took a ceramics class back in my senior year of high school. I honestly would not have minded choosing something I had never done before but at the same time, CIP was something I was committing myself to for the entire semester. As a result, I chose something that I had at least some exposure to so that I had a clear idea of what I was getting myself into.

Now, I knew that taking pottery classes was going to be a bit expensive but I was willing to pay up to a certain amount. With the help of my Japanese teacher, I found two that I thought were reasonably priced and made plans to visit them. The cheaper of the two, unfortunately, was not taking students as the teacher was not in Kyoto that often. As a result, I ended up at the slightly more expensive and slightly further studio called Asahiyaki in Uji, Kyoto. It is about an hour commute for me but Uji is one of the most serene, and most beautiful places that I have ever been to that I feel it is always worth the time to make that trip. To be completely honest, I buy a bento and sit by the Uji River every week before pottery class to reflect on my life and my experiences (lol).

Learning to throw pots at Asahiyaki has led me to many interesting observations. The first thing I noticed was how casual the teacher was with me. Knowing Japanese society and having studied some keigo at this point, I found it very interesting that the teacher omitted all forms of desu/masu and spoke as if I was a friend. However, I noticed this with not just myself, but with the other students as well — and by students, I mean the elderly. The pottery classroom is mainly full of adults and the elderly, which, in retrospect, makes sense. After several weeks of going there, I believe that I am the only college-aged student that goes there regularly. But I digress. My teacher is young, but she is definitely over a decade older than me. She definitely has the upper position in not just status, but also age and therefore, can speak casually with me. What really surprised me was how casually she spoke with the elderly and how they responded in polite form. This led me to believe that in a classroom, no matter the age, the teacher is the one with the most power — the most “erai” person. But still, being that casual with the elderly — some parts of me believe that that is really just my teacher’s friendly personality.
Having grown up in America, many of Japan’s customs and culture is somewhat of a culture shock because the two countries are so different. However, as a Korean, I often notice many similarities between Japan and my own culture and many of these differences suddenly become “understandable” to me. But that does not mean that I fully understand how Japanese society works so studying pottery at the Asahiyaki studio has definitely been a meaningful experience for me. It has allowed me to see a classroom dynamic that is not only different from the traditional school setting, but also different from America’s classroom setting.

Karinne Lorig: Traditional Embroidery

投稿日時: 投稿者:
Camelia, sakura, bamboo leaves, a maple leaf and some spheres.

My work as of the second to last class.

The thing that shocked me first about my embroidery classes was the schedule. We met six times in the term, but the dates were spread out erratically throughout the season on seemingly random Wednesdays. Of course, that was far from the only thing that wound up shocking me. Honestly, I hadn’t expected the class to have nearly as many students as it did. I had expected at first that it would be closer to the knitting and sewing classes targeted at older ladies I had seen in the back of local yarn shops, no more than ten or so beginner students and a teacher sitting around a single table. The embroidery class easily had more than twice that many students and was set up over an area roughly equivalent to the entire aforementioned yarn shop. A brief glance over some of the other student’s work quickly told me why: the class was in no way exclusive to new learners and many—if not most—of the other students were quite experienced already.

I gradually came to understand not only how to embroider maple leaves, cherry blossoms and camellias, but also about the way in which the other students use the class as an opportunity to meet with one another and discuss everything from their plans for their embroidery to family to young people who don’t know how to use keigo. Even through the age barrier, I have been able to have conversations with and learn from the people around me and wound up understanding far more about both embroidery and their lives and observations about society than I otherwise could have.