Every semester in Japanese class, Yoshida-sensei encouraged our class to work as a group, in preparation for our time studying in Japan. However, I've discovered that the ultimate cooperative activity in Japan happens outside of the classroom, even off campus.
With our powers combined... we navigated Kyoto. Last weekend, my friends Cynthia, Craig and I went to Kyoto, to Kitano Tenji, for a flea market they have once a month on the 25th. My literature teacher gave me a small map Xerox with a couple of destinations on it for our reference, such as the train station where we arrived, the subway station, and the temple. Cynthia, on the other hand, had a color coded bus map of Kyoto. Between the three of us, we were able to read almost every kanji we stumbled upon, every map, and managed to only screw up once.
Lesson learned: traveling in Japan is a group activity. Don't try to do it on your own.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Virtues in Commonality
Reading Tanizaki's In Praise of Shadows for my Modern Japanese Literature class has been a precursor to many thoughts on nationality, difference and similarity. Tanizaki's essay, written to educate the Japanese my professor says, illustrates the virtue in acknowledging the differences between Eastern and Western cultures and embracing the two in a harmonious balance instead of choosing one over the other. As a result, there was a lot of discussion about the virtue in differences, which lead to my pondering the virtues in commonality.
I certainly subscribe to the belief that despite increasing globalization, all countries should put forth their best effort to maintain their national individuality through cultural preservation. Honestly, if I didn't, would I really be in Japan? Anyway, as I spend more time in another country with not only the Japanese, but also several individuals from other countries, it has occurred to me how much I love my own country despite all of her mistakes and faults. However, I also love other countries for the same reason, even if they're not as close to my heart, and while we're all unique and should hold on to that, there is a lot of comfort to be found in the similarities found alongside the differences.
Last week, on the fifteenth, it was my twenty-first birthday. Although twenty-one doesn't mean anything to any other country in the world, the excitement on everyone's faces, American, Japanese, British, or Alien, was the same. Hugs, smiles and presents were shared, pictures taken; the whole day was practically one big party.
Days like my birthday and the sports festival at Kansai Gaidai make me remember that at our barest foundations people really are all the same despite cultural differences and outward appearances. Some people are jerks, black, white or purple; some people are the kindest you'll ever meet, European, Asian, or Mars-ian.
My favorite American author, Mark Twain, was often ahead of his time and always looking forward. It thrills me to find yet another such author in Japan. Tanizaki's argument is about remembering the virtues of Japanese culture in the wake of Japanese exposure to Western culture, and despite that he was addressing the Japanese in his essay, his argument resonates with my stream of thought: find a balance between embracing the commonality in man and maintaining cultural diversity.
I certainly subscribe to the belief that despite increasing globalization, all countries should put forth their best effort to maintain their national individuality through cultural preservation. Honestly, if I didn't, would I really be in Japan? Anyway, as I spend more time in another country with not only the Japanese, but also several individuals from other countries, it has occurred to me how much I love my own country despite all of her mistakes and faults. However, I also love other countries for the same reason, even if they're not as close to my heart, and while we're all unique and should hold on to that, there is a lot of comfort to be found in the similarities found alongside the differences.
Last week, on the fifteenth, it was my twenty-first birthday. Although twenty-one doesn't mean anything to any other country in the world, the excitement on everyone's faces, American, Japanese, British, or Alien, was the same. Hugs, smiles and presents were shared, pictures taken; the whole day was practically one big party.
Days like my birthday and the sports festival at Kansai Gaidai make me remember that at our barest foundations people really are all the same despite cultural differences and outward appearances. Some people are jerks, black, white or purple; some people are the kindest you'll ever meet, European, Asian, or Mars-ian.
My favorite American author, Mark Twain, was often ahead of his time and always looking forward. It thrills me to find yet another such author in Japan. Tanizaki's argument is about remembering the virtues of Japanese culture in the wake of Japanese exposure to Western culture, and despite that he was addressing the Japanese in his essay, his argument resonates with my stream of thought: find a balance between embracing the commonality in man and maintaining cultural diversity.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Day of Rest
It's funny the things that translate cultures: Disney, 90's music and the love for singing them stupidly into a microphone. Yesterday, nearly everyone in Seminar House went for karaoke, to end a nearly 100% successful stream of placement review testing. I was a little paranoid the entire way there of offending the Japanese since twenty-some foreigners on a bus, all talking, tends to be quite a big of noise, not to mention two morons who explicitly ignored the warnings of the CIE staff and stood outside of a convenience store drinking their alcohol. Unfortunately, the mass is always penalized for the stupid actions of the few, and the Japanese we encountered probably rued the day they decided to use that bus. But can you do besides apologize formally, thank formally and give as many "don't hate me" smiles as possible?
A few Disney songs and an all male duet of Dilemma by Kanye West later, I managed to loosen up enough to de-stress from the first week of classes and have fun. I am paying for it today with a lack of voice, but I would still do it again in a heartbeat and I'm glad I've been able to experience that little niche in the Japanese culture.
Just like Bennington, however, the first day of my weekend has been spent thinking about homework while really doing something else. But I'll have a free day tomorrow as well to spend as much time on my literature reading and Japanese as I want.
A few Disney songs and an all male duet of Dilemma by Kanye West later, I managed to loosen up enough to de-stress from the first week of classes and have fun. I am paying for it today with a lack of voice, but I would still do it again in a heartbeat and I'm glad I've been able to experience that little niche in the Japanese culture.
Just like Bennington, however, the first day of my weekend has been spent thinking about homework while really doing something else. But I'll have a free day tomorrow as well to spend as much time on my literature reading and Japanese as I want.
Monday, September 5, 2011
The Coolest Kid in School For Two Days
I have derived the perfect formula for popularity: winning personality, red hair and a double room as a single.
One of the above is most certainly true, one is partially true, and the last has been passed into law in a place known as "My Delusions." You can guess which is which.
My roommate from France apparently decided at the last minute to get an apartment in the city with her boyfriend instead of living in Seminar House 1, so for two days (there were two more during the time she lived here) I had my double all to myself. But, since my first roommate has gone AWOL, CIE has decided to replace her with a new model, Meredith. She is recycled from a homestay here in Japan (brand new models are hard to find after the first week of school), and she comes fully equipped with an English speaking function, and potentially Japanese as well. We'll see how it works out.
I spent most of the afternoon the other day with my speaking partner, Shino, which reaffirmed my beliefs that Japanese is exhausting after a while, and that this color of red hair is spectacular. Shino introduced me to two of her friends, Sayaka and Ayana. They all think my hair and my name are very cute. Anyway, I tried my best to speak as much Japanese as I could, and focused reeeeeaaaally hard on understanding every word, but there was still some English speaking going on (both Sayaka and Shino are first-year English majors). Ayana did tell me I speak Japanese well, but I'm convinced that a dead hamster would trump my linguistic skills in Japanese.
My first spoken Japanese class went much better than trying to understand Shino, Sayaka and Ayana though. I understood about 85% of the Japanese my teacher used in class, and what I didn't know were only a couple vocabulary words here and there. I'm finally convinced that I'm in the right level of Japanese. Now I just need to study for Friday's review test so I can stay there.
One of the above is most certainly true, one is partially true, and the last has been passed into law in a place known as "My Delusions." You can guess which is which.
My roommate from France apparently decided at the last minute to get an apartment in the city with her boyfriend instead of living in Seminar House 1, so for two days (there were two more during the time she lived here) I had my double all to myself. But, since my first roommate has gone AWOL, CIE has decided to replace her with a new model, Meredith. She is recycled from a homestay here in Japan (brand new models are hard to find after the first week of school), and she comes fully equipped with an English speaking function, and potentially Japanese as well. We'll see how it works out.
I spent most of the afternoon the other day with my speaking partner, Shino, which reaffirmed my beliefs that Japanese is exhausting after a while, and that this color of red hair is spectacular. Shino introduced me to two of her friends, Sayaka and Ayana. They all think my hair and my name are very cute. Anyway, I tried my best to speak as much Japanese as I could, and focused reeeeeaaaally hard on understanding every word, but there was still some English speaking going on (both Sayaka and Shino are first-year English majors). Ayana did tell me I speak Japanese well, but I'm convinced that a dead hamster would trump my linguistic skills in Japanese.
My first spoken Japanese class went much better than trying to understand Shino, Sayaka and Ayana though. I understood about 85% of the Japanese my teacher used in class, and what I didn't know were only a couple vocabulary words here and there. I'm finally convinced that I'm in the right level of Japanese. Now I just need to study for Friday's review test so I can stay there.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
The Best Rainy Day Adventure Ever
For the US, it was Hurricane Irene. For Japan, it's Typhoon #12.
Cabin fever is the air in Seminar House 1. Today, the Kansai area was expecting heavy rain and winds as a result of typhoon #12 and we've all been advised to stay inside until the storm warnings are lifted. Unfortunately, this menace also cancelled the Kyoto tour that was scheduled as part of Orientation Week at Kansai Gaidai, so the international students have been virtually imprisoned inside of the Seminar Houses (the homestays haven't moved out yet) for the past two days.
But a college is still a college, even in Japan. Our RAs rented a few movies for the evenings in the lounge and one of the US students helped us pass the afternoon by teaching everyone basic steps in swing dance. Natsuki-san and Mirai-san honestly stole the show with their style of swing dancing.
And in one last note, Bennington's own Andrea Metivier gave an exemplary breakout performance in this summer's smash hit "Welcome to Kansai Gaidai."
Cabin fever is the air in Seminar House 1. Today, the Kansai area was expecting heavy rain and winds as a result of typhoon #12 and we've all been advised to stay inside until the storm warnings are lifted. Unfortunately, this menace also cancelled the Kyoto tour that was scheduled as part of Orientation Week at Kansai Gaidai, so the international students have been virtually imprisoned inside of the Seminar Houses (the homestays haven't moved out yet) for the past two days.
But a college is still a college, even in Japan. Our RAs rented a few movies for the evenings in the lounge and one of the US students helped us pass the afternoon by teaching everyone basic steps in swing dance. Natsuki-san and Mirai-san honestly stole the show with their style of swing dancing.
And in one last note, Bennington's own Andrea Metivier gave an exemplary breakout performance in this summer's smash hit "Welcome to Kansai Gaidai."
Thursday, September 1, 2011
What Writing Isn't?
Writing, in it's basest form, is a form of expression that is meant to be shared. After all, like the tree that falls without a sound, does a piece of writing really exist if no one is there to read it? Hopefully, this blog will become something that exists for posterity, hence the "clever" title.
To some of us, our home countries are the fabric of our entire universe. Those other places we hear about exist, but only on the news, and in the papers that interest too few these days. In my experience, Americans are especially guilty of this for a number of reasons. The one I like the best is something that I heard from another student here at Kansai Gaidai: she said that America is like a country filled with a bunch of little countries. Our world is already so diverse and complex in and of itself that it's rather easy to forget about the larger picture. The larger picture, however, is spectacular.
For weeks and weeks before leaving the States, everyone kept asking if I was excited to go to Japan and all I could say was "more nervous than excited." I was going to a completely new country with a limited amount of linguistic skill and it left butterflies in my stomach. Those butterflies suddenly drank a 5-hour energy the moment I showed up at the gate for my flight to Tokyo from LAX. Nearly every chair was full and it was potentially the smallest accumulation of Caucasians I had seen in my entire life. But even this didn't prepare me for the gate in Tokyo.
Imagine you're in a sizable lecture class. You're one of the first students to arrive on the first day of class. As the rest of the students show up, you are the first thing in the room their eyes are drawn to before they sit down. After ten minutes, you suddenly realize it's because you're different. Your entire life, you were counted normal; the 2.4 nuclear family kind of normal without a single stray thought out of the socially acceptable box, but now, it's as though you've grown horns and turned purple.
This is what it was like sitting in the Tokyo airport, waiting for my connection to Kansai International Airport. I was THE foreigner. Every time an announcement was made in English, I could swear I felt the entire room look at me, as though they were saying "You're the only one that needs this and we KNOW." You really don't appreciate the culture diversity of the US until you're in a place where there is nearly none.
The culture shock dramatically lessened once I walked to the North Exit at KIX and suddenly a small group of clearly weary, smelly international travelers greeted me (and I'm not kidding, most complained about being without showers). Suddenly, there was more than a handful of people just like me. Finland, Bulgaria, Canada, Lithuania: they were all just like me, give or take the American euphemisms.
Now, almost a week in, Seminar House 1 has become my new Sawtell (my dorm on Bennington's campus). Although we're from all over the world, quite literally, everyone here is becoming one big family. Our Japanese residents are excited to meet us, to share their culture with us, and to live among us; and we all reciprocate their feelings. It's a long way from my guarana-hyped butterflies of the LAX airport gate. It's actually comfortable, warm and already one of the best experiences of my life.
What else I've learned this week: Japanese banks have to be the strictest institutions in the world, little old ladies in Kyoto will run you over with their bicycles, bread in Japan comes most often in packs of six, bring an umbrella, some Japanese children love to yell "hello" and "bye bye" at you, and γηΆγγ is good at the hula.
To some of us, our home countries are the fabric of our entire universe. Those other places we hear about exist, but only on the news, and in the papers that interest too few these days. In my experience, Americans are especially guilty of this for a number of reasons. The one I like the best is something that I heard from another student here at Kansai Gaidai: she said that America is like a country filled with a bunch of little countries. Our world is already so diverse and complex in and of itself that it's rather easy to forget about the larger picture. The larger picture, however, is spectacular.
For weeks and weeks before leaving the States, everyone kept asking if I was excited to go to Japan and all I could say was "more nervous than excited." I was going to a completely new country with a limited amount of linguistic skill and it left butterflies in my stomach. Those butterflies suddenly drank a 5-hour energy the moment I showed up at the gate for my flight to Tokyo from LAX. Nearly every chair was full and it was potentially the smallest accumulation of Caucasians I had seen in my entire life. But even this didn't prepare me for the gate in Tokyo.
Imagine you're in a sizable lecture class. You're one of the first students to arrive on the first day of class. As the rest of the students show up, you are the first thing in the room their eyes are drawn to before they sit down. After ten minutes, you suddenly realize it's because you're different. Your entire life, you were counted normal; the 2.4 nuclear family kind of normal without a single stray thought out of the socially acceptable box, but now, it's as though you've grown horns and turned purple.
This is what it was like sitting in the Tokyo airport, waiting for my connection to Kansai International Airport. I was THE foreigner. Every time an announcement was made in English, I could swear I felt the entire room look at me, as though they were saying "You're the only one that needs this and we KNOW." You really don't appreciate the culture diversity of the US until you're in a place where there is nearly none.
The culture shock dramatically lessened once I walked to the North Exit at KIX and suddenly a small group of clearly weary, smelly international travelers greeted me (and I'm not kidding, most complained about being without showers). Suddenly, there was more than a handful of people just like me. Finland, Bulgaria, Canada, Lithuania: they were all just like me, give or take the American euphemisms.
Now, almost a week in, Seminar House 1 has become my new Sawtell (my dorm on Bennington's campus). Although we're from all over the world, quite literally, everyone here is becoming one big family. Our Japanese residents are excited to meet us, to share their culture with us, and to live among us; and we all reciprocate their feelings. It's a long way from my guarana-hyped butterflies of the LAX airport gate. It's actually comfortable, warm and already one of the best experiences of my life.
What else I've learned this week: Japanese banks have to be the strictest institutions in the world, little old ladies in Kyoto will run you over with their bicycles, bread in Japan comes most often in packs of six, bring an umbrella, some Japanese children love to yell "hello" and "bye bye" at you, and γηΆγγ is good at the hula.
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