Anthony Shimamoto: Club Soccer and Klexon

What can be said about my CIP for this semester? First, perhaps I should’ve more prudent in my selection. In doing so I joined a soccer club called Afini at Kyoto University. Perhaps two misconceptions led this to be a less than enjoyable experience. First, while the members were extremely nice, I had not played soccer at all regularly since elementary school, thus my skills were severely lacking in comparison to most of the members, almost all of whom had been playing soccer since a young age. It also seemed that the level of competition in which they were engage in was of a more competative nature, not at all like the intramural club sports that I’ve participated in back in the US. I had also anticipated that at least some part of the three hour practices would be devoted to working out. instead the entirety of the practices was devoted solely to soccer drills and a scrimmage. Also having an afternoon class right after practice impaired my ability to social more with the other soccer members as they would often go out to eat together when practice ended. The result of these two factors left me with a feeling that I accomplished little in attempting to mesh into the folds of Japanese society.

 

However, this past Tuesday I recently participated in an English speaking circle called Klexon at the Kyoto Wings center. The premise of the groups allows for a setting in which Japanese who want to practice speaking English can have the ability to do so. They are helped by volunteers who come to the event that takes places every tuesday evening. I found the Klexon meeting to be quite enjoyable as it was nice to speak with and learn about people’s reasons for wanting to become proficient in English in an informal setting.

Tyler Roberts: Social Dance

At the beginning of this semester I was extremely apprehensive when we were told that we needed to participate in a Community Involvement Project.  I was terrified of the notion that I would have to carry on a conversation in Japanese without the assistance of a professor or textbook to tell me what to say and when.  On top of that, I was at a loss for how I was going to fit another appointment into my already hectic schedule.

The first day of ballroom dancing had me extremely anxious and I was not sure what I would say after I introduced myself to the group.  However, my fears quickly dissipated as everyone began to introduce themselves to me.  No one seemed to care that I was a foreigner; they all wanted to know where I was from and what I liked to do besides ballroom dancing.  The best part was that even when I struggled with a sentence everyone did their best to help me express what I was trying to say and kept the conversation going.  That first afternoon of practice showed me that I could hold a conversation in Japanese and gave me a lot more confidence in my speaking abilities.

Since that first encounter, I have gone to lunch with most of the ballroom members at least once and gotten to know a lot of them really well.  I know that my Japanese is not perfect and I will probably practice for the rest of my life without getting it perfect but I have had a great time getting to know some fellow college students on the other side of the world and I hope to keep in touch with them when I return to the U.S.  What I thought was going to be my least favorite part of this semester turned out to be the part that I enjoyed the most.  I could not wait to leave politics class on Wednesday nights and go dancing. I also loved getting up early on Saturday mornings (which is blasphemy for college students) just so I could make it to practice on time and get to go out to lunch with everyone afterwards to discuss everything from our favorite professors to Pokémon.

David Killmon: Klexon

My CIP, klexon, is a club to help Japanese people practice their English with native speakers. At the risk of sounding a bit self-satisfied, I have to admit, my English is quite good. Given this pronounced excellence, I felt up to the task of klexon. The first time I went, I was thrown in without a lot instruction, and ended up just chatting with the random people assigned to me. It was quite fun; there were many levels of English ranging from something resembling English to giving me a run for my money English. The former level was my favorite. While they would try and regurgitate their memorized introductions or phrases you could see the anxiety and frustration color their faces, the same anxiety and frustration which I’ve grown quite familiar and close with. Their English wasn’t at a level which really allowed them to have a personality, their Japanese, however, did. When they tossed off the burden of English, they went from shy, boring OL girls to sarcastic, sharp examples of modern women. While she would answer in Japanese, I would answer in English. I felt bad for listening to her Japanese instead of forcing her to speak in English, but I wonder if engaging her, entertaining her and leaving her with a sense of fun as well as practicing her listening comprehension was more valuable than forcing her to do something which just frustrated her, i.e. speaking. Is it not a better to enjoy something but move more slowly than to find something frustrating and plow through it anyway? Would the cost of forcing her speak be her interest in the subject? I find the idea of learning a language a lot like exercise. If you force someone to exercise to the point of exhaustion, then they’ll always have that pavlovian response of pain and exhaustion whenever they start the task again. Should this girl who I was talking to stain her experience with learning English with the anxiety and frustration which had been so evident before? Should she not instead gain some satisfaction that her listening comprehension is good enough to have half a conversation with a native speaker? At the end of our conversation, my partner probably felt a lot more confident and comfortable with herself and her English than before.

Something to notice, I think, is that this really isn’t specific to Japan or Japanese people. I imagine that a lot of the people in America who learned English organically, e.g. my ancestors or the immigrants of today, are living proof of this idea. While many may not have learned English in school, they picked it up on their own terms while living out their lives, while experiencing their lives. Anyway, it’s always interesting to see how people learn and how the way they learn affects them.

Yiqing Fang: Kyoto University Mixed Voice Chorus/Ikebana

For the past 3 months, I have been participating in the Kyoto University Mixed Voice Chorus and various Ikebana related activities for my CIP. I was originally hoping to become a member of the Kyoto college student origami circle. Unfortunately, I lost contact with the group after an awkward first meeting. The group had responded positively to my first email inquiring about becoming a member but any further email received no replies.  Nevertheless, I decided to attend one of their public meetings. The group was very obviously not prepared for newcomer. While some of the senpais tried to make me felt welcomed, the atmosphere remained very stilted for the rest of the night. After this, I emailed them about attending future meeting and never received a reply. I took their lack of responses as a sign that I will not be welcomed.

My experience with the Choir has been quite good, if not what I expected. There are many established rituals and unstated knowledge. For example, everyone in a certain voice section will respond to announcement or direction in a certain way. The girls will say “安い!”together in a high pitched voice anytime announcments turn to money related matters. Each voice section also have their own unique songs they sing to welcome new members.I was not taught any of this and the assumption seemed to be that new member will just slowly pick up these knowledge. Members were able to use this kind of common background to communicate with each other in ways that would not make sense to any outsiders. I was quite thrown when they first introduce me to the chorus at large. The way they welcome new members was like nothing I had ever experienced. They asked all the new members for our information before the rehearsal after. After the rehearsal was over, they had sign made from our information ready f and made us introduce themselves in front of the whole choir. After each introduction, the corresponding voice part would sing a song to welcome their new member.  Everyone tried their best to make me feel part of the group and I really appreciate their efforts. I often had trouble understanding director’s direction but by focusing on body language and with help from the other members, I was able to follow along.  My one disappointment has been the lack of individual interactions. Due to the way the rehearsals are scheduled, there is very little free time to just talk with people. Another reason I feel a bit distant has been that many of their social activities have been during my class time. I feel like I didn’t really have a chance to get to know everyone better outside of the formal practice.

I have had some wonderful experiences learning about Ikebana with Ikebana International. They seem genuinely excited that I have such an interest in the art of flower arranging. I learned a lot about Ikebana from their events and had some wonderful conversation. For example, after one of the demonstration, I talked with Kitamura-san (the director of special events) about why certain flowers were chosen in this specific arrangement, the shape of the vase, and other such things. I felt a little awkward talking to them at the beginning but they kept prompting me and I eventually opened up. I had a lot of opportunity to practice my keigo. They have invited me to more upcoming events but I unfortunately had to decline due to time restraint.

I think the main thing that has prevented me from getting as much as possible out of the CIP experience has been the issue of time. Choir had a month long break in March because it was Japanese’s college’s spring break. Some of the other clubs I was potentially interested in were no go specifically because of their lack of activities. I was also unable to attend many of Choir’s outside activities because of time conflict with classes. Further more, 4 months is really a bit too short to expect much commitment from either side. One of the positive take away from the whole experience has been to keep an open mind. Don’t restrict yourself to what you perceive as your official CIP. Attend as many outside activities as you can, you never know who you might connect with.

Michele McAndrews: Manga/Origami

In the spring semester I found it rather difficult to find a regular Community Involvement Project, which I think had a lot to due with the timing. Japanese student groups were not meeting much over their spring break before the new school year started in April, but the Japanese teachers were really helpful and usually went out of their way to find something interesting. Throughout these past few months I’ve been going to arts-and-crafts project groups, with a focus on origami.

A few times I participated in going to the KIXS meetings (Kyoto University International Exchange Society) where I would mingle and chat with Japanese students. But as school went on break, less and less people attended. The most fun I had at a KIXS conversation table was when we all went to dinner together. The conversations flowed the best while we were gathered around good food, and there was lots of talk about upcoming plans for the break or graduation.

What ended up becoming my ‘main’ involvement project was attending origami circles. The first time my friends and I dropped in on a Kyoto student group, the atmosphere felt very awkward. The students didn’t have much of a plan and so we each created individual projects without much involvement as a group. Different origami meetings were held at the Kyoto Station, with a much better structure and lots of friendly people. Everyone was sweet and willing to help with any difficulties anyone had with folding.

Though I have to say my favorite group/circle that I’ve attended so far has to be the manga club. I felt like I fit in with the people there and had a lot of interests in common which made us all want to interact with each other. We all got to see one another’s art styles or portfolios, and even got prompted to draw caricatures of each other!

All in all, interacting and having a common interest with these Japanese groups made me feel really happy that I got to be involved. I feel like I accomplished one of the very things I really wanted to do in Japan, without knowing that I really wanted to do it. And through these circles and groups and clubs, I really felt like I made friends and communicated with the Japanese community.

Adriana Reinecke: Kyoto University Choir

I’m so glad that I decided to join the KyoDai (short for Kyoto University) Choir. Although I haven’t been able to participate as much as I may have liked, whenever I am able to go to practice I am welcomed and treated as a true member of the group. Though we practice in large numbers, I became closest with my fellow sopranos. I would often receive text messages from them during periods when we wouldn’t see each other often, and I remember being very gratified that I was able to tag-team joke with one of the other girls. I think it is safe to say that it was through my friendships with the members of the choir – and possibly my part-time job – that I felt most a part of the Japanese society while here in Kyoto.

Beyond the obvious friendships and interactions with the group, I found several aspects of the club dynamic and activities that surprised me. As a foreigner studying Japanese, I have spent a great deal of time learning about how Japanese rules of social hierarchy and seniority play out linguistically. My time with the KyoDai Choir has taught me that such ‘rules’ are ultimately guidelines. They would be 100% accurate inside of a ‘linguistic vacuum.’ The reality is that each group, and each individual within that group, contributes to the creation of a unique group dynamic. Similarly, each individual uses a complex and only sometimes intentional mix of many levels of formality in everyday interactions. For example, each member of the choir has a nickname. Some of these nicknames have nothing whatsoever to do with the person’s actual name, which meant that I had (and still have) a hard time remembering them and keeping them strait. These nicknames are used by all members of the group regardless of seniority. In Japanese I have heard two different expressions to refer to language in practice. These are “raw,” and “living.” Choir was one of my main places that I was exposed to, and involved in the speaking of “living Japanese.”

The other thing that surprised me was the system by which the new club officers were chosen. One afternoon, I was invited to have an early dinner with the member of my voice part before practice, during which the newly appointed part leaders would speak to their wishes and goals for the year to come. It was nothing like I expected. It was very formal. Each of the girls – Koude-chan and Mika-chan – had prepared lengthy speeches. They talked about how they became involved in choir, what they liked about it, why they wanted to be part leader, what skills they brought to the group, and what things they hoped to accomplish. The surprising part was that we, as members of the soprano section, were then invited to ask them questions. It was as if we were interviewing them. At the end, we even took a vote, during which we had the option to object to their leadership. I didn’t realize just how foreign the whole concept was to me until I was prompted to ask a question of the girls – I had no idea what to ask. The girls were voted in unanimously, but it seems that this is not always the case. It is not that we don’t have a similar system for electing part leaders in the US (typically it’s by vote or merit), it was just the formality and the possibility of rejection that surprised me. I can’t say that I came away with a particular lesson, more that it was an unexpected learning experience for me.

I will remember my time with the choir fondly and make the most of my final weeks here with them. I hope someday we’ll meet again.

Phillip Cualing: Kitano Tenmangu Taiko Group

As May approaches, I reflect back on what was an eventful year, being in Japan as a study abroad student. Even though I felt I could have done so much more, been so much better in terms of my Japanese ability than I am now, I still feel like I accomplished a lot and gained new interests, taiko being one of them. When I was in the States, I had heard of it second-hand, but my first real impression with taiko came at a moon viewing at my local shrine in September. When I heard that performance, my first thoughts were of awe and then I wondered how I could do that, which is how I joined the taiko group at Kitano Tenmangu.

During last fall, I joined mostly for furthering my interest in taiko, so I did not really get to know all the members or learn all the pieces by heart, the latter part of which really showed during the end of the year performance when I had a lot of trouble and was rather embarrassed. Thus, I decided to make it my CIP so I could have the time to focus on it wholeheartedly and I believe I have learned a lot, not just in becoming better at playing, but also being able to interact with other Japanese people naturally.

I have a tendency to do things roundabout or in a strange way, and my first practice was no exception. Even though it was October already, I had no cell phone, so I ended up at our teacher’s house by accident instead of at the shrine. My contact (the teacher’s wife) was out, but her parents’ reception of me was humbling, because they not only helped me find where I needed to go, but also gave me a tour of the surrounding area, hosted me for lunch, and even visited a sake brewery with me. Despite my embarrassment at being in that kind of situation, I will never forget the kindness they showed me and hoped to pay it back by really committing myself to taiko this semester.

The practices are much more than practices in my view; we gather, frolic, catch up, joke, help each other, laugh, and plan for the future, not to mention learning new pieces and maintaining the ones we do know. All types of people participated, from children to adults, and our post-practice dinners were the most fun, because it was a chance for us to communicate in a natural fashion and actually grow closer as a group. In terms of people from KCJS, Nate and I were left over from last fall, and Diana, Andres, and Jackson joined us this semester. Arguably, there were a few bumps at first as we all adjusted into the flow of things, but by the time of our spring performance to start the new year, I thought we not only played well, but also got to know everyone else in the group well.

For someone who lacks any musical inclination, my taiko experience was amazing. I picked up a skill that I hope to maintain and grow when I return to the states and made many close relationships with people I want to see when I return to Japan and hope to return all the kindness and warmth I was shown when I was welcomed into the group. Though it may be impossible, I felt like I belonged a little bit when I participated in taiko, which means so much to a person who belongs to no set place or group in the States. Maybe it is because of the tight knit group mentality, but living in Japan just feels as natural to me as moving or breathing when there is the feeling of people who would support and encourage a foreigner, different as I may be.
Given my interests and classes, I have been hurtling towards a crossroads for quite some time, because of how hard it is to reconcile using Japanese and the life sciences in a career. Regardless of whatever happens from this point, the experience I received from participating in this taiko group was worth it, more than anything I could put on a resume.

Gabrielle Reinecke: O-koto and the Kyoto University Choir

While establishing a CIP and forging connections can prove a daunting and sometimes discouraging process, I found it to be an ultimately invaluable part of my time at KCJS and my life here in Kyoto.

My first CIP, which I have continued both semesters here, is learning how to play the koto (A traditional Japanese string instrument with moveable bridges) and it was through what I suspect to be a combination of serendipity and extreme thoughtfulness on behalf of the KCJS staff that I was placed in a homestay which made these lessons possible. My host mother had studied the koto for quite some time and was kind enough to introduce me to her sensei, who has been generous enough to teach me free of cost for the for the past eight months. This connection made my CIP search easier than most, as I had long admired the instrument and had vague hopes of learning to play it while in Japan. Their long-established relationship made the introduction process very easy, and it wasn’t until I undertook the task of introducing another student that I began to more fully understand the complexity and cultural context surrounding such arrangements. Because all parties involved lived in the same neighborhood, special care had to be taken in regard to kinjo no tsukiai (neighborhood relations) between my teacher, the host families, the students, and all combinations thereof. What I suspect might have taken two or three phone calls in the US took over fifteen phone calls and some rather complex social maneuvering and face redress strategies so that no party felt disregarded – no small task when it comes to the finer points of Japanese joshiki (common sense, if you will) and etiquette.

My subsequent interactions with my sensei and her other students always left me a bit flustered as I could never be sure I was properly adhering to these unstated (and, as a foreigner, rather opaque) social codes, but they were sensitive to my situation and my language skills helped carry me through reasonably well.

My sensei is a true bohemian and has that slightly eccentric flare I personally associate with masters of traditional crafts and art forms – a trait I’ve come to find very endearing, though it certainly threw me at first. She has a very flowery way of speaking that utilizes an impressive range of keigo (formal speech) and Kyoto-ben (the local dialect) which, while I had no trouble understanding linguistically often surprised me in usage. For example, though I am the student and much younger, she often uses formal speech towards me, that is to say, the sort of language I would be expected to use towards her. However, I quickly came to realize this is more a reflection of her personality than misinformation on my part in regard to the way formal language is used in a real-life context.

The sequence of aisatsu (salutations) took a while for me to grasp. One might think, ‘how many salutations can one possibly use?’ but Japanese salutations are not limited to words of greeting. Also included are acknowledgements of the previous meeting, a request for guidance in the day’s lesson, a promise to work hard, and any number of repetitions and reiterations thereof based on my sensei’s responses (which, in accordance with her speech style, were rather numerous). Another repetitive sequence also concludes the lesson.

Also of interest was the occasional use of the greeting ‘good morning’ despite the fact that my lessons have always taken place in late afternoon. This is something not usually taught in Japanese textbooks, and is apparently not even common knowledge among Japanese until about college age, but the greeting ‘good morning’ can be used the first time you see someone in certain contexts (at part time jobs, in the world of the arts, etc.) regardless of time-of-day.

Of course, I also learned quite a few pieces of music, including two of Japan’s most well known songs, and had the opportunity to perform on numerous occasions, but what remains with me was the time I spent with my sensei and the extreme care and kindness she showed me. It was my first time interacting with a Japanese person of her age and occupation, and I believe it gave me valuable insight into the inner workings of Japanese relationships on the whole, despite her undeniable uniqueness. I will remember the time I spent under her tutelage quite fondly and, with any luck, will have the opportunity to make use of what I have learned in the near future.

My second CIP I began only this past semester, but while it was also music-related, it gave me a very different insight into Japanese society, and Japanese college life in particular. Natasha helped introduce me to the KyoDai Gasshodan (Kyoto University Choir) and from day one they welcomed me as a real member. Because our school schedule operates on a different calendar from that of Japanese universities, it is understandably difficult for us to truly experience campus life here the way we would in the US. I never really felt like a student at Doushisha (or Kyoto Daigaku) until I had the chance to sing with them. For the first time I thought “so this is what it must be like to be a ‘regular’ student.” That feeling of belonging was invaluable, and I will  treasure the time I spent with them and the memories we made. I know how difficult it can be to get involved in a campus club or circle, but if you can make it work, it’s more than worth it.

Meg Beneville: Kyoto Cooking Circle

Meg Beneville: Kyoto Cooking Circle

For my CIP, I decided to take a Japanese cooking class. I’ve attended classes at the Kyoto Cooking Circle of Wings Kyoto and really enjoyed learning how to make many different Japanese dishes and interacting with the teachers and other students. The classes are very gaijin-friendly, and I’ve met people from all over the world, including Australia, Korea, and Spain. Many of them aren’t exchange students but are teachers or expats living in or near Kyoto. The Japanese people attending the classes all seem to have an interest in learning foreign languages or meeting people from different countries. They are very welcoming and we usually talk while we cook. I always get to practice my Japanese, and because we receive the recipes in both Japanese and English, I can compare the two and often figure out what different ingredients are in Japanese based on their English translation. I’m looking forward to trying out some of my new recipes when I get back to the States.

One thing that I’ve observed while attending cooking classes is that even though some of the other foreigners have lived in Japan for years, that doesn’t necessarily mean they can speak Japanese. I was really surprised to hear one woman who had lived in Kyoto for over 5 years struggle with very basic phrases. This is not a judgment on other people, but rather something I’m very sympathetic towards, as I can imagine that moving to Japan without a formal way to study the language must be very difficult. It made me think about how lucky I am to be at a time in my life where I can come to Japan for the specific purpose of learning Japanese, and that I could do so at KCJS, where I am receiving such high quality language instruction. I’ve realized that there is a huge difference between living in Japan as a study abroad student learning about the language and culture, and what it’s like to live in Japan as an adult who ended up in Japan and is just trying to live daily life.

Unfortunately, Kyoto Cooking Circle only meets once a month. My original plan was to take several different cooking classes, but I was surprised to find that Kyoto Cooking Circle in the exception in that it is very affordable. Other classes I looked at were as much as 5000 yen per class, which was completely out of my price range. Because of this, I need to supplement my CIP activity with something else. So far, I’ve helped out with an English lesson for Japanese children, which was a lot of fun. I’m also looking forward to attending some KIX in the next few weeks.

Kristen Lee: Manga Museum Volunteer

I really enjoyed volunteering at the Manga Museum. The atmosphere of the museum is welcoming and comfortable. People of all ages sit by the bookshelves along the walls or outside on the huge lawn to read manga. The other Japanese volunteers are also very nice. Uramune-san, the person who is in charge of us, has been especially friendly and patient in helping us to establish a routine at the museum.

I think this may be the first time the museum has had KCJS students in the front part of the museum interacting with Japanese and foreign visitors. Our only job was to give English tours, so we often just stood by the front desk with the greeters until a visitor came who wanted a tour. We usually went on Sundays, but even though more Japanese visitors come to the museum on weekends, there seem to be fewer foreign visitors. I think that because foreign visitors are usually tourists, it does not matter to them whether they go to the museum on the weekend or a weekday. However, the museum was very flexible in allowing us to come whenever it fit our schedules as long as they are notified in advance.

I did not know exactly what to expect about volunteering at the museum, but I did think it would be easier to talk to the other volunteers about topics unrelated to the museum and get to know them better; however, they are very busy with their own tasks, so it is hard to ask them about irrelevant topics. Although the workers are always nice and patient in answering my questions about the museum, they do not usually initiate conversations with us. We also take our break at a different time from other volunteers. If there are other people in the break room, they are usually napping or using their cell phones, so we rarely get a chance to interact with them outside of the more formal work setting. Although the work setting of the museum may have been a factor, I think because Melanie and I always stuck together during our volunteering time also made us more unapproachable for the other Japanese volunteers to come and talk with us.

It is interesting to see how the Japanese volunteers interact with each other in the semi-formal work setting of the Manga Museum. For example, whenever another museum worker passes by, both people say「おつかれさまです」to each other. Museum workers also speak in formal Japanese to visitors. When a visitor leaves the museum, any worker near the exit bows and thanks them for coming. These ritualized greetings and switch in formality between fellow workers and visitors are very interesting to observe. The other workers even included us in their greetings, which made me feel more a part of the museum.