Vanessa Tenazas: Zenryuji Nursery School

Building on my experiences last semester, this spring I focused much of my attention on the general concept of “teacher” as understood by the children at the daycare. In exploring the various roles they play in the daily life of the attendees, I also became fascinated by how the ways a teacher corrects a child not only reflects something about the teacher, but also by how it affects the child developmentally.

My observations have led me to identify a “teacher” at the daycare as one who simultaneously act in 3 major roles: as one who guides, as one who dotes, and as one who disciplines.

As a guide, a teacher instructs a child on acceptable moral behavior. For example, they may interrupt or arbitrate a dispute and then ensure that apologies or concessions are made appropriately. This role of course also encompasses the teachings of daily life, such as proper manners and routine living (e.g. greetings, washing hands before a meal, etc.).

Teachers are also, at least at this stage, something of a playmate to the children. Physical affection through hugs and tickling seems to build a sort of trust and intimacy between the two that, in my opinion, enables the teacher to fulfill their other roles more effectively. That is, while they inevitably have to correct a child, the physical affection communicates to the child in a concrete way that a teacher is not always so distant an entity, but instead one who emulates a parent.

Finally, as a disciplinarian, the teacher employs various methods to correct children’s behavior. Aside from outright scolding, I have noticed a particular stress on accountability, whereby a child must first admit their mistake and then correct it on their own. Spilled milk episodes are most representative of this tendency. Additionally, passive-aggression on the side of the teacher seems to indicate when a child has deviated from a long-expected behavior, such as playing around after eating snack instead of preparing to go home. This method tends to lead the children to realize their own mistake, as reflected in their guilty expressions afterward.

Until volunteering at Zenryuji, I did not realize how important a role a teacher at a daycare plays in shaping the growth of a child. By instructing them, being friendly with them, and also disciplining them, they teach children not only what is expected of them at the daycare, but also in society as they prepare to go further out into the world. Since I have always observed Japanese people to be sticklers on accountability, it made me wonder if the emphasis on recognizing and fixing one’s own mistakes at Zenryuji may be culturally influenced. In any case, it was a very enlightening to get a glimpse of one of the foundations of Japanese society, even if only for a short time.

Catherine Aker: Teaching English

The very first time I found myself at Kyoto Bunkyo, a combined middle school and high school in Higashiyama, something earth shatteringly shocking happened: I was cool amongst middle schoolers.

They laughed at my jokes. They got excited when I showed up. They all enjoyed talking to me. It was all my middle school fantasies of popularity realized a mere seven years too late.

Of course, as I was soon to figure out, this was not because some latent coolness gene had activated inside me sometime after high school. Rather, it was because no one could understand a word I was saying.

One would assume that this lack of communication should have been obvious after a couple of extremely one-sided conversations. And the truth is, it probably was. Just not to me.

And here, after a few weeks of painstaking observation, are the reasons why:

  1. The English the students know, the students really know. It kind of works like a script. The students know certain phrases and sentences. They have them memorized like they’re preparing for a play. The most infamous is what I like to call the “How Are You” Script.

 

It goes like this:

 

“How are you?”

“I am fine, thank you. And you?”

“I am fine.”

 

As long as you stick to the script, the students can have a pretty passable, if a little bit flat, conversation. Unfortunately, they know the script so well, that your input is barely necessary. It doesn’t really matter what answer you give, the script will continue on regardless.

 

On one occasion, a student gave the entire script in one breath without my input at all. (“How-are-you-I-am-fine-thank-you-and-you. Good-bye.”)

 

Nonetheless, the fact remains that when these students are on script, they are in their comfort zone and, although their intonation is a little off, they speak smoothly and confidently. Since most conversations start out with scripts, and frequently contain more in the middle, it’s easy to believe that these students are understanding more than they are.

2.They laugh a lot. Which, as most English speakers are prone to, I usually took as a cue that they were enjoying my insightful and witty comments.

 

As it turns out, that wasn’t the case. The students frequently used laughter to cover up for times they didn’t understand. I think it was a combination of nerves, a desire to seem more fluent, and behaviors learned from their teachers.

 

That’s not to say that they never laughed because something was genuinely funny. They did. But it is not the special, “I don’t understand laugh”. The “I don’t understand laugh” is hesitant. All the students take a split second to make eye contact with each other and check if anyone understands. Then, when they do laugh, it comes out in a quick burst and stops just as fast.

 

But, it’s close enough to regular laughter to convince someone like me that the conversation was on track, and they enjoyed my jokes. Even the one about the platypus. (They actually did know the word for platypus, by the way. They had all studied in Australia.)

 

Anyway, between the scripts and the laughter, it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that anything was amiss. When I finally did notice, there was much mortification on my part for a few days. Afterwards, I had to slow down my speech immensely, and our conversations degenerated into fairly bland repeats of the same discussions, but at least everyone was on the same page.

So, I guess the end result of this story is that communication mishaps are easy. Correcting them is a little bit harder. But at the end of the day, I like the think that learning to bridge a few differences and learning to detect a couple of new ticks is worth it in the end. If nothing else, I’ve won a few cool points, which is a victory in and of itself.

Mingtian Ouyang: KLEXON

I joined KLEXON since the beginning of last semester. It was a circle with plenty opportunities to make Japanese friends and many fun activities. Most members of KLEXON are either college students or company employees. Among the company employees, engineers and designers make up a great portion. These two fields require them to use English more frequently than other company employees. During the meeting I noticed something very interesting. Before the meeting starts, Japanese KLEXON members would stay in their own seat, busy looking at their phone, while entire ignoring their surroundings. Meeting starts at 7 pm, however, around 6:55, even though most people have arrived, no one seems to bother start any conversation with others. I found this strange. Their goal of coming here is to practice colloquial English, but why do they have to wait till the last minute to do so?  

      When entering the room, some college students tend to greet their friends, who also happen to be in KLEXON. However, the rest members would normally just walk straight to their seat and start playing with their phone. Meanwhile, when foreign students come in to the room, they would greet people they know, and start a conversation right away. I think there are many reasons behind this difference. First of all, there is a different concept of time in Japan. For example, “everything is on time”, “low tolerance for being late” are some impressions Japan has left me. The idea of “doing the right thing at the right time” is critical to Japanese society. Maybe it is currently 6:55 pm and the meeting starts at 7:00 pm, but 6:55 is not 7:00. To the Japanese members in KLEXON, these two times are very different. Therefore, it is not the time to start practicing English because it is not the “right time”. I also asked a Japanese friend from KLEXON to prove my idea. His answer was that this phenomenon has to do with the idea of the “shyness as a national character of Japan” (シャイな国民性). He explains that it is not customary for Japanese to start a conversation with anyone he or she meets. Almost all conversations begin with a formal self-introduction.  Also, some worry that talking to someone before meeting starts might bother them, because strictly speaking it is not the “right time”.

Justin Chao: HUB Kyoto

Upon hearing about KCJS’ CIP requirement, I found myself struggling with 2 possible choices. The first was to pursue my interests and seek some kind of personal project; examples being to learn a form of Japanese craft such as an instrument or Karate or something along those lines, and the other being to pursue an opportunity that would be help me in finding a job after college. I decided upon the latter, participating in Impact HUB Kyoto. What initially drew me to HUB was the laid-back environment and overall emphasis on being a self-starter. This did not change throughout the semester, as the laid-back environment and encouragement of pursuing individual interests and projects did not cease to exist. As an example, I initially started on a Facebook/social media project where I would supplement HUB Kyoto’s Facebook page with my own page in English. However, after a period of research, I had second thoughts pertaining to the practicality of such a project, and instead, worked on translating newsletters from Japanese into English. The flexibility and encouragement permeating through HUB was a huge positive for me, as it allowed me to pursue projects related to my interests; social media marketing and translation, whilst volunteering under an entrepreneurship network that could help me out in the future, as far as finding work.

On the topic of the HUB network, another aspect that greatly interested me was the overall atmosphere and manner in which HUB is run. Because its members are so laid-back and emphasize self-starting, HUB stands in firm contrast to my image of a stereotypical Japanese business. One characteristic of culture shock I have experienced is how intense Japanese working ethics and culture is, and after being involved with HUB for a period of time, I am very happy to see that although the Japanese salaryman life is not particularly all fun and games, there are always exceptions, of which is exemplified by HUB. Granted, HUB is a worldwide network of entrepreneurs, however it is encouraging to know that if I were to absolutely want to try and pursue opportunities in Japan in the future, I am not necessarily confined to the never-ending hustle of a typical Japanese corporation.

Overall, I am happy to have been involved with HUB Kyoto. There have certainly been times where it felt like actual work as opposed to a fun way to get involved in the Kyoto community, but in retrospect the opportunities to pursue projects such as social media marketing in a Japanese context and translation work, as well as the experience of feeling the positive community of HUB first-hand are truly an invaluable experience for me. If my time in Kyoto had been longer, and my schedule was not so confined by school and the home-stay, I feel as if HUB would had been exactly the kind of opportunity I was looking for, as far as doing something fun and productive in Japan for an indefinite period of time.

Daniel Moon: Igo

My first day in the Kyoto Igo Salon began with me walking into a classroom full of elderly ladies and being greeted by their curious stares. Upon telling the instructor that I am a foreigner trying to take Igo lessons, the classroom buzzed with whispers of “He’s a foreigner!” Needless to stay, the unwanted attention was more than enough to reconsider going back to the salon.

I’m happy to write though that it feels a lot more comfortable attending the class now. The class, including the instructor, is very friendly, and a lot of the students have been eager to talk to me about life back in the states, my thoughts on Kyoto, Igo, and so on.

Each week, the instructor lectures the class for half an hour about new strategies. After walking me through a brief overview of the basic rules of Igo, the instructor has allowed me to listen in on the lectures along with the rest of the class. The basic idea of the game is to build one’s base as large and secure as possible using “stones,” which are the basic unit of the game. The lectures have been mostly about conducting offensive and defensive moves based on predictions of the opponent’s moves. According to the instructor, veteran players can predict the flow of the game multiple moves ahead of time, though I’m not confident that I can predict beyond one or two moves at best.

I have to admit that I have yet to win a game (and I don’t imagine that I’ll be returning to the states with a win on my record), but strangely enough, despite my competitive personality, I haven’t found myself stressing about losing in Igo. My guess is that there is a certain atmosphere about Igo (or perhaps an atmosphere specific to my salon) that allows both the winner and the loser to walk away from a game with satisfaction.

What kind of atmosphere? What I view as the attractions of the Igo game come mostly in comparison to other strategy board games that I have played in the past, namely chess. Granted chess has its own appeals, I would characterize Igo as a game that places relative emphasis on respecting the opponent. Some of the customs of Igo (bowing to the opponent before the game, placing the first stone in the upper-right hand corner, avoiding making sounds or touching the opponent’s stone when placing one’s own stone, etc.) are purely for the sake of paying respect to the opponent. Of course, mannerism is present in any game, including chess, but clearly Igo comes with a longer list of intricate customs and manners that are virtually considered rules.

Besides the general rules and customs of Igo, it is also the informal atmosphere of my salon that allows for a relaxed few hours of lectures and practice. It seems that the students here have been regulars for a long time, since they all seem to know each other well and speak to each other in informal Japanese. While they address the instructor as “sensei,” it was surprising to see that they also speak to the teacher in informal Japanese, as does the instructor. I have been able to talk with a number of students, though the talks mostly consisted of them asking me questions about where I am from, why I decided to come to Japan, why I chose to study Igo, and so on. The students had a strong Kansai Accent, and it might be a safe guess that talking with them helped grow my ears for the Kansai Accent.

I can’t say that there’s been a major breakthrough that suddenly elevated me to become adept in the workings of Igo. What I can say, however, is that over the course of the semester, I steadily grew a good amount of understanding of the logic and dynamic of the game. I dare to say that along with better understanding came a better appreciation of the game in its unique charisma.

Katsumi Morales: Kyudo

There are several reasons that I am sad to see this Spring semester come to an end, and leaving my CIP behind is among the top few. My experience at the 道場, practicing 弓道 hasn’t been the most social or life-changing, but I am extremely grateful for having been given the opportunity to be taught by a proper instructor and train amongst other Japanese 生徒.

Although there have been countless awkward moments for me, whether due to my own lack of communication skills or due to making a mistake and dropping an arrow, my overall experience has been quite pleasant and I normally leave practice feeling somewhat accomplished. My teachers and fellow students have been very kind to me, and as the months flew by, I felt more and more welcome amongst them.

During my first few weeks at the 道場 back in September, a few foreign travelers came and went, practicing only a few days or weeks before leaving again. I remember 先生 talking about how even 4 months was not enough time to truly learn about 弓道, and I can say that after nearly 8, I still feel I have a long way to go until I can be called even “decent”.

Looking back, I believe there has been a very large difference between how teachers and other students treated those who stayed only a short time, and how I have come to be treated after being around for a much longer time. That is not to say that they treated anyone badly at any point in time, but that after 6 or so months there, I definitely began to feel a change. Despite having few conversations with others, I could sense that they had grown used to seeing me around, grown used to expecting me there. The times I did have conversations with people, they were always very nice and asked me about myself, and about how long I would be staying.

If I compare myself with some of the other students who had attended while I was there, I believe that my being there for a much longer time than the others, spoke of how serious I was about learning and practicing 弓道, as opposed to being there just for an experience in Japan. I got the impression that those who were only there a handful of weeks were really only doing it as a “one time” thing. せっかく日本に居るから. I and Jasmine who practiced with me last semester hope to continue 弓道 after returning to the states, and if possible coming back to Japan to practice again with a teacher. I am not too hopeful about finding a place to practice in the States as of now, but I will definitely keep my eyes peeled. I knew before I began here that I preferred 弓道 to Western archery, especially competitive archery. I had tried it for a year and a half and realized that the more spiritual and wholesome experience of 弓道 fit me better. I have found myself to be quite right in that respect. I am not the kind of person that enjoys sport and competition, but to me at least, 弓道 is something more.

I believe that it was my genuine desire to learn 弓道 as what it is and not as a sport, not as I learned Western archery in the past, that eventually helped change the way others looked at me. Even 先生 changed her attitude towards me bit by bit. Now I feel much more like part of the group of people there every Monday and Thursday. Unfortunately that only makes it harder to leave and I’m sure these last weeks will fly much too quickly for my liking.

Deanna Nardy: Manga

I don’t want to write this blog, because it means that my time in Okamoto-sensei’s manga class is almost over. Out of all the events and opportunities provided by KCJS, nothing made me feel more valued as a member of the community than my Manga CIP. I have made real Japanese friends (not just hey-we-met-once-and-added-each-other-on-Facebook-but-actually-what’s-your-name-again “friends”), people I will keep in contact with and, when I come back to Japan, will go out of my way to meet again. Manga class has been the one piece of home in a time abroad.

The incredible thing about my manga class is that everyone is completely supportive of one another. Whenever I felt dejected and thought “I will never be as good as A-san so what’s the point,” everyone was quick to tell me that my art is my own style and no one can draw the way I do, because the pictures I draw are mine, are special. It sounds cliché now, but that encouragement has meant the world to me.

This may just be the artist talking, but sometimes I look at what I’ve drawn, and I think, “Wow, I haven’t improved at all.” It’s easy to think this when Okamoto-sensei always couches praise between criticism: 「この辺はいいけど、この辺はちょっと…」. However, recently, a girl who had previously attended the manga class but is now a published artist has been visiting. Whenever she is there, Okamoto-sensei talks about me as if I’m not there and praises my work minus the disclaimers. “This is her first time inking, and you can see she understands when to make thin lines and thick lines,” “You should have read her Cheesecake manga, the action scenes were well done,” “She’s very patient and doesn’t rush, that’s why her art is clean” – after hearing all of this (for the first time!), I couldn’t stop smiling the entire class.

Now I realize that Japanese people in general feel more comfortable showing praise indirectly. Because I was only ever told points I could improve on, I interpreted that as I wasn’t doing anything right. However, that’s not the case at all – the second another non-student was there to listen, Okamaoto-sensei said only good things about my work. Perhaps directly praising someone runs the risk of discouraging the other students, or maybe you don’t want the student to get too cocky, but either way this dynamic is different from what I experienced in American classrooms.

I will never forget Okamoto-sensei, the kind assistant Fujita-san, the always-drawing-male-love-scenes-that-make-the-sensei-shake-his-head student, the two high school girls that are always squealing 「すげー!!」about something probably Sonic related, and the boy who offered me his heat pack that he fished out of his back when I said my hands were cold when we went out to eat ramen after class. Until we meet again!

Romana Perez: Niconico Tomato

           For the past 8 months I have been volunteering at Niconico Tomato, a volunteer group at Kyoto University Hospital. I have had the opportunity to help kids staying long-term in the hospital. Most of what Nicotoma does is to create events for the children. At Nicotoma we often create intricate cards, do crafts with the kids, and have sales to raise money. I’ve particularly enjoyed created various crafts and using my hands to create something beautiful that a kid can enjoy. I am really glad to help the children have fun and I want to continue to do similar things in the future.

            Since I am leaving soon and returning back to America, I often think about how I can continue to help children in America with a similar program. I know there are programs at hospitals in the US, but they are often very different. The ability to play with the kids as a volunteer is the same, but often fun activities and events are lacking. I also find the attention to detail to be lacking as well. At Nicotoma, all seasonal decorations are taken care of very carefully and used year after year, where in the US new ones are often bought or old ones are easily damaged. Also, at Nicotoma every craft is organized and planed out in advanced, which allows the cards we make to be intricate, but very easily put together. I don’t imagine American programs to be as detailed and they would probably be bought. From what I’ve seen and heard from friends in the US who have volunteered in similar programs, the kids usually make crafts but rarely receive them from staff. Also, the regulations and rules for American programs are very strict and can restrict the fun the children can have. For example, a lot of the events we have at Nicotoma give the kids a lot of sweets. In America, since childhood obesity is a big problem, I don’t think we could do similar activities.  

Either way, if I do become a doctor I want to continue to help however I can. I also want to maybe take what I’ve learned from Nicotoma to improve any program I’ll participate in the future. One idea I have if I am able, is to maybe set up a pen-pal system between American children and Japanese children. I think it would be a very cool activity for kids to talk to each other around the world, especially ones with similar situations. So hopefully I can accomplish that goal.

            One thing that remains the same between the two countries is the energy of the kids, and I want to protect their hopeful outlook on life. I’m a little sad to leave Nicotoma, but I know they will continue to give excellent care toward the kids. I’m glad to have been able to make a difference, however small. I’m glad to have picked this as my CIP. I am also grateful to the kindness of the members of Nicotoma who were always helpful and generous. I had a lot of fun (and snacks!) and I am just very grateful for the experience.

Aubrey Harper: Pottery class and Klexon

I started off this quarter doing the same project as last quarter, pottery lessons.  I started the lessons late so they carried over to the first half of this quarter.  I really enjoyed the lessons, but when it was over I wanted to find a CIP that didn’t cost as much money. One that cost no money would be even better.  So that narrowed my options down to clubs and volunteering, unfortunately the circles at Doshisha weren’t very active this semester because the Japanese students were on spring break for two months in February and March.  I began to look into volunteering opportunities, but I was wary of committing myself to something when I was going to be gone in a month and a half.  I was rereading the other student’s entries to try and find something and I stumbled upon Klexon.

Klexon is an international language exchange organization.  They have a meeting each week; they also have special events on weekends occasionally. I have only gone to a few meetings, but it isn’t as awkward as I thought that it was going to be at first.  I am a rather shy person; I’m not big on talking to strangers in English, let alone in Japanese.  But I found that many of the other people at Klexon, were just as nervous to talk to me, which somehow made it less daunting.  Many of the Japanese people at Klexon are students, but there are also a lot of office workers, who are transferring to an English speaking country or have spent time working in an English speaking country before. I also met a man who just quit his job and was planning on traveling the world.  Because Klexon is meant to be a language exchange program, talking to and making friends with the other people is expected and I found that while many people were shy like me, it wasn’t so hard after a few minutes to keep a conversation going.

With pottery lessons on the other hand, I felt like an outsider very keenly for most of the classes. I was not only a foreigner but also much younger than the other students and a first-time potter. Eventually I began to feel like I was gaining ground in the group, but soon after that the classes were over. I think that if it had been a longer class I would have been able to make more progress. I’m not sure that there is really a secret to making integration into the group easier, if there is I would like to know it. For me it just took time and being polite.

Cameron Bothner: Impact Hub Kyoto

Impact Hub Kyoto is an intense choice for CIP, make no mistake. The organisers,
since day one, have referred to us as interns, and it’s an accurate designation.
Impact Hub is no minimal-effort choice, but I’ve never been one to pick the
minimal-effort option.

If I had one fewer draw on my attention, then I would have been able to give as
much of my time as Impact Hub initially wanted. They asked for three hours of
work and one long hour of check-in meeting a week, plus regular attendance and
assistance at events. And I would have given it all, too; Hub is a cool
organization building the right kind of community and encouraging the right kind
of innovative-slash-disruptive ventures. As it turned out, after a near
thirty-hour weekly commitment to Japanese class, two arduous afternoon classes,
and an understandable desire to form meaningful personal relationships in this
new country, I only had two hours a week to spare. To see it written makes it
look like very little, but it was enough time each week to finish a draft of my
flyer template which I would receive comments on the following week.

More than just being an interesting project, however, Hub is a great place to
meet friendly, interesting people. The space, a cool retrofitted Noh Theatre,
encourages collaborative work and conversation, and there were always a few
members milling about. Impact Hub members are by their nature fascinating
people: artists, activists, academics, and entrepreneurs, and at events or
during the afternoon, conversation was always engaging.

However, either Hub is not really a characteristically Japanese organisation, or
Japanese organisations aren’t really that different from American ones. (I’m
inclined to think that it’s certainly not the second option.) Impact Hub
encourages individual creativity and emotional honesty, and a number of the
members’ English was better than all of our Japanese. This made Hub a
comfortable place to work, certainly, but I recognise that that aspect runs
contrary to the goals of the CIP.

Impact Hub Kyoto is not the CIP for everyone. In fact, it wasn’t the CIP for
everyone, and some found others after a few weeks. But I found it a valuable
experience.