Shauna Moore: International Exchange Team: Giving Directions and Event Planning

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

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

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

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

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

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

Elizabeth Murillo: Practicing English with High School Students in Japan

For my CIP I choose to be an English assistant at Kyoto Bunkyo, a high school/middle school combination school. Most of the students I interacted with were high school students but on the occasional tours around the school I was able to interact with the middle school students as well. I have only been able to attend my CIP four times this semester, and have only interacted with two students, but I learned a great deal about the nature of English learning in Japan. English can seem pretty daunting to nonnative students of English, alongside the complexities that exist within the English language, the cultural aspects of language don’t always translate. In order to surpass these cultural barriers, I believe that the student has to have some experience interacting with the culture that speaks the language. It wasn’t surprising when I realized that the only students that approached me were ones that already had prior experience living in a foreign country. Both students I had conversations with studied abroad in Australia and had achieved a certain level of linguistic and cultural proficiency. These students were inherently outgoing and inquisitive and were eager to talk to me.  We talked about very mundane topics, such as school, music and boys, and I felt very relaxed around both students. However my interaction with the rest of the students present in the classroom was very scarce. The first time I visited the school the teacher urged the students to try to talk to me but the effort was futile and at some point I solely focused on the students that I met. They were so excited to befriend me that we even went out together and interacted with each other in a setting outside of school to practice using practical English. The student’s commitment to speaking only English was very commendable but it was due partly because of their great interest in Western culture. One of my students loved hip hop dancing and showed me pictures of her in Australia dancing. My other student loved Disney and Western music. It was fairly easy to keep the English conversation flowing between us. Apart from observing how these students interest in English helped motivate them throughout my talks with them I was also able to observe how the primary education system in Japan looked like. I was given the impression that learning English was not really something the students were interested in but was something that only people with a keen interest were able to achieve. Perhaps the same could be said about Japanese. I haven’t gone enough to be able to observe more than this.

Catherine Alexander: Bazaar Café

For my CIP I chose to volunteer at the Bazaar Café. Bazaar Café, in the way it functions, the Bazaar Café is much like any other café; however, it does have a few special traits that set it apart. One thing about the Bazaar Café that differs from the average café in that many of the workers there are volunteers. In addition to this, the café also actively participates in the Kyoto community to spread acceptance and has a policy of openness toward all races, nationalities, and religions.

Through my experience at the Bazaar Café, I feel I learned a lot about group work and work relationships in Japanese culture. In the kitchen, there are few set roles, and teamwork flows almost naturally. Everyone is attentive to the simultaneous tasks around them, so they know when and where to step in and help without being asked. Not having to ask for help prevents the feeling of placing a burden on others, which is something that seems to be avoided in Japanese culture. Also, whenever someone fills in a helping role, for instance, drying dishes, the one they are helping will almost always reply to this action with the set phrase “onegaishimasu” or “arigatou gozaimasu”. These set phrases serve as simple but meaningful ways to express thanks as well as smooth and efficient transitions into group tasks. On top of this, these phrases are used without connection to age or rank, therefore they also simplify complexities of hierarchy and honorifics in the Japanese language and make teamwork easier. Overall, through my experience as a volunteer, I feel like I was able to see how aspects of Japanese culture carried over into a work group environment in the Bazaar Café Kitchen.

In regards to entering a new community like Bazaar Café, one important thing I would stress is observing and learning from those around you. There are things you are expected to do or know that you won’t be told directly, as they are already obvious to the members of the culture or community. Being able to adapt is a huge part of your CIP.

Michele Li: Doshisha Animal Life Circle

For my CIP, I participated in the Doshisha Animal Life circle with Ryan. It meets every Thursday at 6:30 at the Doshisha Shinmachi campus and this study group’s aim is to enrich their own knowledge on the current situations of animals around the world. But since there were school festivals (Clover Festival and EVE Festival) coming up and free papers they had to finish, their usual study meetings were put on hold to discuss what kind of booth they wanted to set up and what kind of layout they wanted for the free paper. As part of my CIP, I decided to observe if there were any differences in the way they treat foreigners as compared to the way they treat other Japanese students.

Through my participation, I realized that their attitude doesn’t depend on whether you’re a foreigner or a Japanese person, but whether they think of you as a friend or a stranger. If you were a complete stranger, as well as a foreigner, the club members tended to avoid striking up a conversation and preferred to ignore your presence. For example, when Ryan and I went to the first meeting, although they first greeted us with smiles and snacks, as soon as they started to discuss the festival preparations, they turned their backs to us and proceeded to speak amongst themselves. Not once during the meeting did they meet our eyes or try to talk to us. We were left to figure out what was happening by ourselves. This continued throughout the semester. There was another instance when Ryan and I were working with a Japanese club member in order to make decorations for the club’s booth, but it was basically us working in silence. We tried striking up a conversation, asking what last year’s booth was like, etc., but the conversation always died after one exchange. The Japanese student didn’t try to continue the conversation and seemed like he felt uncomfortable talking to us for more than a minute. On the other hand, if you were someone they knew, they would greet you with exuberance and constantly joke with you, even if you were a foreigner. For example, there was a Korean exchange student who was in the club with us, but since everyone in the club was familiar with him, they would constantly chat with him and poke fun at him. There was even this one time when the president of the club wasn’t able to come to a meeting, so she made the Korean student the leader of that day’s meeting instead. Although it was a little disheartening to be ignored after trying to converse with them, it was still an interesting experience to see how the club members acted around each other.

Ife Samms: Doshisha Church Children’s Service Violin Player

As I have been attending the children’s services at Doshisha Church, more and more I realize that there are typically more adults who do not bring children at the service, than there are adults who are actually bringing kids. Although it may appear to be sketchy, rest assured that most of these adults are staff members who help out before and after the service—handing out flyers, setting up the projector, helping to carry in the keyboard, and such—but still, I decided in my mind that there must be something that these adults are getting out of coming to the children’s service every week. In my curiosity, I decided I would interview three adults whom I regularly meet at Doshisha Church every Sunday.

I interviewed two staff members and Doshisha Theology students, Shimiri and Noyuri, and one adult who did not have children, but regularly came to the services, Ms. Sekiyama, just to see why these people attended the services, and to find out what they were getting out of it. When I interviewed Shimiri, she told me that one of the requirements for Theology students at Doshisha is to run the children’s services, so when I asked her why she continues to come, of course her answer was “I come because its my job to come.” However, when I pried for what she got out of coming to the services, she said her favorite part was playing with the children, and that she seemed to become naturally energized because of them. From Shimiri, I learned that she thought that three year-olds and eleven year-olds who attend the services should not be given the same activities to do, and if she could change it, she would. As for Noyuri, although she got involved with the children’s’ service because she is a Theology major, she said she knew the experience would “be helpful in the future.” She shared with me that she didn’t like children before, but now she loves them and thinks that they’re cute. Noyuri also said that she thinks its great to get to hear sermons from people other than Doshisha’s head pastor, she loves being able to gain spiritual peace through the easy to understand message, and that learning about the Bible along with the children makes her think that “God is sweet and kind, but also strict at times.” I was thrilled to hear that although her participation in the services was not initially her choice, she still was able to feel that she had grown and received something positive from her experience as a staff member. In Ms. Sekiyama’s case, when I asked her what she has enjoyed about coming to the children’s service, she said that “the sermons are easy to understand—I was able to become like a child!” When I asked more about that, she said that Jesus said in the Bible that those who will inherit the kingdom of Heaven must first become like children, meaning pure in heart; Ms. Sekiyama said that attending the children’s service helps her to do just that. She said that it helps her to prepare her heart, and quiet her spirit to become like a child before she dives into the adult service later in the morning. If she goes to the adult service straightaway, she says, her heart does not feel quite ready yet, but if she attends the children’s’ service first, Ms. Sekiyama says her heart is prepared to receive the message the pastor will give in the adult service.

As a non-native Japanese speaker, I certainly understand enjoying the children’s service simply because it is easy to understand. As the adult service can be—more times than not—difficult for me to comprehend, the children’s service is given in simple Japanese, with a message that all ages can benefit from. Through my experience coming to Doshisha Church every week, I’ve learned that being with children, playing, and learning the things they are learning all have great benefits for the adults who participate, including me!

My experiences playing the violin at a church in Japan have also been drastically different from my experiences participating in the praise band at my church in America, Binghamton First Assembly of God. Namely, the way of communicating and scheduling when someone will play is quite different at Doshisha. Every month a small group of staff members meet to schedule who will be in charge of music each week, then that schedule is passed out to staff members later. In America, there is a website that the praise band uses allowing everyone to input whether or not they will be free to play the date they are scheduled for. As music for the services at First Assembly changes week to week, the website allows for music and schedules to be sent out easier; however, at Doshisha Church, the music the children’s service uses stays the same week to week, reducing the need to use a more complex scheduling website. The genre of music played at Doshisha was also a drastic difference from the church music I had become accustomed to in America. While the Christian Alternative Rock I played in Binghamton had been used at times to stir up the congregation into praising God openly and loudly, I felt that the music at Doshisha was used in a much calmer way to aide the congregation in praising God through softer means.

I learned that in my CIP I had to be open to learning about a new way of doing things using my interests. Instead of comparing my accustomed way of doing things with the staff at Doshisha’s way of doing things—causing myself a great deal of frustration in the mean time—I found that it was best for me to realize that this culture is not worse or better, it is simply different from my own; in that realization, I allowed myself to try new things, to create new relationships with people I never imagined I would meet, and to learn about the world in a new and profound way. Playing the violin at Doshisha Church’s Children’s Service as my CIP has been a great experience!

Jeremy Chen: Ceramics Studio

After weeks of emailing various places, trying different things, and sorting out a few problems, I finally ended up at the Kamogama Ceramics Studio with a wheel to myself and all the tools, clays, and glazes I would need to keep me going for the next few months. Honestly speaking I was unprepared for the amount of freedoms they offered me considering the other studios I had emailed or visited did the exact opposite of that in the form of time, materials, or cost limitations. But since this place was offering everything, I figured it would be a waste to let this opportunity go by, and I jumped on the offer. Only five people worked at this ceramics studio-store-coffee shop hybrid, so I wasn’t expecting too much contact with people my age let alone people at all given that most of the staff worked the cafe. Fortunately the woman who worked the ceramics side of the business made it her informal job to be my ceramics instructor and go to person for questions regarding Japan. Through this relationship, I came to understand a lot about what Japanese people see in foreigners.

Communicating with my instructor was easy. I spoke enough Japanese to describe the things I wanted to do with my pieces, and in exchange, my instructor would teach me what the Japanese term for said action was. However, whenever the topic strayed away from ceramics, my instructor would immediately assume that I practically didn’t know anything about Japan. At times I appreciated this because of the depth of the explanations she would give me, but also I started to wonder what she actually thought of me. I would start a conversation about Christmas traditions in Japan, for example, and without fail, as she does every week, she would compliment my Japanese skills and then continue on about Christmas. My limited conversations with the other staff reinforced the idea that they were actually fixated on the fact that I was speaking Japanese to them even after weeks of coming to the studio.

Although not ideal, I prefer this over being spoken to as if I were a Japanese person. I actually sometimes play the foreigner card to ask really silly questions like “Why is a lot of anime about school?” or “Why do the pottery wheels spin the other way here?”. I feel like this small studio is more like a second homestay rather than a CIP project space although the people here never seem to get that my Japanese skills have gotten me through everyday life for the past few months. Just the other day one of the staff members complimented me on my ability to write in both hiragana and katakana even though my emails go far beyond that. Still, it’s been fun in its own way, and I’m going to miss everyone that helped me along the way. I’ll be sure to remember them through the pieces they helped me make.

 

Dylan Manning: Track Team

The first day I showed up at a Doshisha Track Club practice was a nerve-wracking one; I hadn’t emailed anyone prior and took the 60 minute journey to Kyotanabe myself. I had gone over in my head exactly what I would say (it was early in the semester, my Japanese was still no good), making sure to throw in the –nkedo at the end to come off as not too forward. When I finally arrived I just stood at the side of the track, had a mini panic attack, and decided to cash in on the I’m-a-nervous-foreigner card. Hard. A girl approached me as I stood drawing circles in the dirt with my foot and, in well-articulated English, asked me what I was doing there. This is your moment! I thought, and managed to stutter out the lines I had rehearsed so thoroughly. After that things were a blur, and even today I am still surprised at how easily I was accepted as a semi-regular member of the Doshisha track practices. Even on that first day I was asked if I wanted to participate in the meets, full uniform and everything. I was taken aback, but unfortunately, due to being in Kyoto for only a semester, the logistics of it would have been too difficult, and I was relegated to a practice-only “member.” And so began my CIP journey.

I’m not exactly sure I can say I learned a lot through my CIP. Some other students throw themselves into completely new and foreign experiences, but I chose to go with something more familiar. Being already well-versed in the activity itself, I had the chance to focus on the differences between American and Japanese sports. It was a bit difficult to practice my Japanese at first, as many of the students liked to practice their English with me, and asked a lot about America. I consented and spent the first few sessions speaking a good deal of English before the shininess of the new American runner wore off. After that, I was able to pick up on a lot of the unique things about the team.

Being somewhat versed in Japanese culture, I expected a good deal of the experiences I eventually underwent. I knew there was going to be clear hierarchy within the team, honorific language and the like, and I knew there was going to be a certain intensity that contrasted to the often lukewarm commitment of American athletes. All of this was true, but I was surprised by the degree to which these things revealed themselves.  I remember one day when I was doing a hill workout with Nakaoka (essentially my assigned training partner, at least in the first few practices) and a few other underclassmen that this hierarchy revealed itself. I should note that Nakaoka and I are juniors, while the others seems to be freshmen and sophomores. After the first rep, which we all did together, I was approached by some of the other members with a water bottle and a towel. At first I was confused and said that they didn’t belong to me, sorry, wrong person, but they continued to insist. I then realized that they were the team’s towel and water bottle, and they were giving them to me because I was an older person on the team. This kind of behavior would never fly in America, due to ideals of equality and a fear of elitism. After the workout, those same athletes collected the towels and water bottles in a bucket and took them back to put them away.

This was easily the most surprising experience of my time with the team. Many other differences eventually revealed themselves, though mostly in terms of training philosophy and preparation. My time with the track team at Doshisha was a fun one, and it certainly made very real the things I had only learned about. Thanks to the team, I realized my dream of becoming the person with the strongest body at KCJS this semester.

 

 

Sebastian Pratt: Football Crazy, Football Mad

I dreamed of boarding my homeward bound flight, a renaissance man, proficient in countless traditional Japanese arts. The prospects of representing my country in kyūdō, quite surprising my family with a Christmas shakuhachi performance, and, abandoning my awful handwriting for my newfound shodō brilliance provided me with a reason to actually look forward to the end of this semester. Save for a dramatic turn of events, these arguably lofty dreams look to be well and truly crushed.

Advised, by the powers that be, not to try my hand at an activity I had no experience in, I regretfully crossed off pretty much every possibility on list. I’m an Englishman. Football is my inochi, how spectacularly original. I stalled before reluctantly accepting that my CIP was to be football. After much research, aided significantly by Yamaoka-sensei, I trotted down to the Kamogawa one fine Saturday morning. Despite not finding the one I had been hoping to, I ended up joining the team that was training there. I say with questionable certainty that this team’s name is Nyū Borā; my understanding is that it came from some Italian phrase.

Football is, in theory, a very rewarding CIP. Unfortunately, I was only able to attend the team’s Saturday training sessions, and even then I missed a bunch of them because sometimes there were matches and other times I was getting lost elsewhere during my travels. A team sport whose squads consist of usually 20+ members bound by banter and strong camaraderie, football does provide a solid opportunity to make Japanese friends.

To my relief, the team seemed to jump at the opportunity to count an igirisujin amongst its members; coming from a football-crazy nation helped. Even though they did not add me to their Line group, the players welcomed me with varying enthusiasm, but enthusiasm nonetheless. Many were eager to befriend me in the hope that my English be contagious. I shared meals with a few members, and became as close as my Japanese permits to the only other Doshisha student in this Kyodai circle. Though at times it was tough to keep up with the Kansaiben and speed of speech, conversation was manageable because, unsurprisingly, all of the members were happy to talk about football. There is a strong sense of hierarchy and seniority and an absence of honorifics. Amusingly, when the ball flew into the river the newcomers were expected to retrieve it, and one actually disrobed and entered the water. Upon approaching the team, I was immediately directed towards el capitano, who would often express his surprise at my use of honorifics in emails. This is not different to what one would expect in any other country.

My CIP was enjoyable despite my infrequent attendance preventing my participation in the matches. I made some acquaintances, understood a joke here and there, and tried to improve my embarrassing casual Japanese.

Meng Zhao: Ima Tenko Butoh Workshop

I participated in Ima sensei’s butoh workshop this semester. This experience was a whole new experience for me. I had some theater and dance related experience before but what I had was backstage work, such as theater management, stagecraft, and community arts theory etc. The butoh workshop was my first time moving from backstage to front stage after quitted dancing when I was a fourth grader, to learn practicing arts as a real artist instead of being a supportive staff. The workshop was also a special experience because what I experienced was so different from the traditional class I read in book or from other people’s experience that there was no hierarchy in the class that no strict  teacher and student relationship existed.

Ima sensei is a really nice person. The whole workshop was conducted in a comfortable environment. There was great freedom of self expression in class. We had improvisation practice every time but she never gave concrete description that she left a lot of space of imagination to us. For example, we were often asked to play “something” dancing in the air. The question of what object to play, how to play and play with what kind of emotion etc. were all left to us.  The only thing she asked us to do was to relax and move slowly to feel the change of body dynamics but how slowly was also not defined. During the class, she seldom judged or corrected our dancing. The only time she explained what is right or wrong was when she expected us to explore certain things, for example the posture of a obaasan. She would make sure everyone is doing the right obaasan posture so that everyone is on the same track. Yesterday she made an interesting comment on my dancing “Maggie san’s dancing looks different from the others’. It made me remembered something (I can’t catch that part) I saw during old school days but I’ve been unable to remember what it is until I saw your dancing”. She further explained that each body is different and we have different abilities to control our body so she enjoyed observing how people manage their body differently, especially in this class where people have different background and different level of experience with performance arts.

While sharing with other people in my class about my CIP experience, especially Helen since we all took dance class in Japan, it was so interesting to see that even though we both took dancing, how our experience differed that I didn’t experience any 厳しさ of Ima sensei. I was so surprised to find that the environment of the class was similar to dancing workshop in America. I thought it was due to the nature of modern dancing where self expression is expected that the need of breaking the existed system of arts and doing something new is celebrated. Since butoh explored human body, the most natural way one presents is the most correct way that there’s no right or wrong.

Another reason is that butoh which has a history of merely 70 years is still under development. Tons of unknown things are still under research that it’s important to keep learning and being humble. This point is further illustrated by the way of talking in class. While talking to sensei, we all used ます form most of the time but not keigo, including pro dancers. Sensei used short forms most of the time. The way we called her also differed a lot. I called her Ima sensei and there were people calling her Ima san, Tenko san etc. I asked her how she thought of the use of language, she said that should be the way you talk to 年配の人 and she didn’t mind how people call her. Talking to elderly with respect shows good manner is 当たり前 in Japan. It’s interesting she put herself as a person with more experience because she is older instead of being a sensei with more experience and more professional. I guess it was because of the nature of her work which involved observation and learning from other people with different backgrounds a lot where she didn’t have to fully establish her status as a sensei who makes no mistakes and controls the class.

Taking Ima sensei’s workshop was one of the best things of the semester. It was good to exercise every week while learning what my body can do and experience how modern arts in Japan is like. I truly recommend Ima sensei’s butoh workshop to anyone who has interest in modern Japanese arts.

Jennifer Wang: Piano Circle

Now that the semester is coming to an end, I can say I’m glad I joined the piano circle – even though I have mixed feelings on my experience. It was great to get a taste of Japanese college student life through circle activities and meeting new people, especially since the piano circle was a diverse group with different backgrounds and levels of experience talking with foreign exchange students.

While everyone was friendly, I found it hard to make closer friends. Since many of them don’t have a particular interest in spending time with exchange students, they tend to stay within their groups of friends that are solidified outside of the circle. In making piano circle friends outside of the circle’s room (box), I found that the power of your school year was surprisingly strong. Surprisingly so in that I didn’t observe any emphasis on senpai-kohai relationships in the circle, but ended up invited to an all first-year piano circle casual dinner at the 食堂. I additionally observed, when helping out at the school’s EVE festival, the other two first years that I was advertising our booth’s food with started joking around and overall acting casual very quickly, though they had just met that afternoon. Bonding within your own school year was evidently natural, and bridging the senpai-kohai dynamic to become close friends seemed rare if done at all. That also brings me to the point of my own ambiguous status as an exchange student, since although they invited me, I doubt they would have invited a third-year Japanese student. (Of note, as an exchange student, you’re also not an “official Doshisha student” for any event purposes, etc.)

The other major difficulty in making friends is that the piano circle has no fixed meeting times every week. While that’s ideal for fitting into it into one’s schedule, I would generally only see the same member once or twice per month even if I went at the same time every week. At the beginning, I asked a few members when they usually go, and the reply was generally “when I have time.” I was surprised by how some people always seemed to show up at the same times though, and wonder if there’s a reachable level of friendship where you’ll casually text the other when you’re at the circle box. Regardless, whenever I did go, the members were always open to talking and helping out with my homework. I could tell that some of them weren’t used to talking to exchange students, aka figuring out my strange Japanese, but they all responded to my questions and often asked questions in return.

Ultimately, I didn’t get that much piano practice done this semester, but I had an interesting experience! Even if I got along with a smaller percentage of the piano circle students than students that have a particular interest in meeting exchange students, I’m glad I got to meet a diverse group that is likely more representative of Japanese students as a whole. My one regret is that I wish I had understood the above dynamics earlier and made more of an early effort to become closer friends with some piano circle members. But I’ll be here next spring, and plan to continue my piano circle adventures until the end of the semester in February. The piano circle is a no stress, social option for anyone with even a slight interest in piano, and I highly recommend it. 🙂