GＷの日本語プログラムへようこそ
Welcome to the Japanese Program at GW
We would like to welcome the new first-year students in Japanese language. Ours is a program that strives to broaden your horizons and open your mind to a new and different culture. Currently we offer language courses at all levels—from basic to ad-vanced—as well as humanities courses such as Japa-nese Literature in Translation (Fall and Spring) and Japanese Culture Through Film (Spring). We hope you find the language challenging and the program inviting.
This is the eighth year of 「日本語にゅーす」 the Japanese Language Program newsletter. We strive to provide you with information of recent and upcoming events. Students are also a large part of this newsletter and we encourage them to participate in this collective endeavor—as Elizabeth Butler, Jon Gaspar and Ben Robbins have in this issue. If you have any comments or experiences you would like to share with your fellow students concerning Japanese language learning, please contact your professor about your ideas. We look forward to hearing from you.
今年もがんばりましょう
おにぎりまん
日本で勉強してみたい？
Thinking of studying in Japan?
On Friday, October 17, the Japanese program sponsored a study abroad information meeting for underclassmen interested in going to Japan for their junior year abroad. Students—Melissa Blackmon, Elizabeth Butler, Jocelyn Campanaro, Virginia Chan, Roy Harrison, Jon Hill, Ben Robbins—who studied in Japan spoke.
Melissa went to Tokyo through the IES program and stressed the cultural value of the program. While Hanami sensei has questioned the language instruction of this program, Melissa insists that it was a good program for her. She said she was able to live in Japan as the Japanese do and gained invaluable insights into their everyday lives.
Jon Hill regaled us with his visit to China, but it’s too risqué to print here, so you’ll have to ask him personally—he is currently taking Readings in Modern Japanese (Japn107), so you can stalk him there. But he did stay with a family whose son gave him the impression that the Japanese are not as conservative as he thought: the son had a pellet gun—actually, over here this might be con-sidered very conservative.
Ben recounted his adventure in a small town when he was traveling on his own. He had not made a hotel reservation and struck up a conversation with a random youth he saw, and found, to his relief, that this youth had a grandmother who knew some-one who knew someone else who knew a Japanese inn… or something like that.
Roy reminded us of the up and down relation- ships with host families, although ultimately he keeps in touch with his host family even now. And then there was Virginia: She liked to shop at Loft in Shibuya, Tokyo.
NOTE: Some of the info went out late to second-year J-students and many were unable to make the session. Our deepest apologies. But feel free to come and talk to Profs. Hamano or Hanami in there office for additional information. And I’m sure some of the speakers would be more than happy to talk to you if you approached them.
おにぎりまん
Notes from Abroad
Japanese major, Elizabeth Butler, studied abroad at Kyoto University last year. Lucky for us, she kept an online journal to jot down her thoughts. She has written on a number of different things, but her entries on Zen Buddhism are interesting to say the least. The following is one entry.Rain on the Roof
As I rode on the train to get here, I was filled with childish nervousness. I jumped, squirmed, twitched, eyes flickering. I tried in vain to concentrate on my book. Why was I going to a zen temple after all? I'll bike there, I thought at first. But, mountains cut only by rivers and train tracks would have presented a little challenge. In-stead, the train passed through beautiful gorges, masked by a thick sheet of mist and rain.
It poured on the roof of the zendo (zazen hall) last night, just as it had poured all day, soaking my bag. The wind lifted my umbrella, threatened to turn it inside out, pounded a dismal beat during the fifteen minute walk from the Umahori station to Hosenji. As I sat cross-legged that night, I fancied the rain on the roof beating a welcoming song for me.
I tried to concentrate. I can't count as advised. It just doesn't help me. Instead, I decided to chant "ima", now, in my head. Slow and steady—one syllable in, one out. A reminder and an answer to my first question: why am I here?
I realize, I am constantly multi-tasking. While doing one thing, I think of something else. Then, when I arrive at that task, my mind is already thinking ahead. I am never here, never now. Zen asks you to leave the future and the past out of the mind. After a while, you stop fighting through the past, working through memories, thinking about good and bad, and you stop worrying about the future, where you'll be in two years, where you'll be in two days, two second.
You stop fighting that and realize your bum is not going to move from that pillow in the next two seconds, so you might as well live those two bum-on-pillow seconds as exactly what they are, as you and the mind, the body, the zendo, the rain, as you should live all time being exactly what you are do-ing, a connection of mind and body, a flow, a mu. Meditation is constant -- constantly in the present. Wouldn't that be nice.
Many beliefs and religious structures like this, I find just add on to one's insecurities, taking power away from us and giving it to some unseen being. Some of the beliefs in zen Buddhism, however, seem of value: peace, acceptance, awareness. If only it weren't for the structure that inevitably develops with belief the institute of thought. I wish that religions and beliefs were nameless, ideas constantly present, but never captured and contained within walls, books, sutras, mantras, and creeds. "Thou shalt not" is too prevalent a phrase in any established religion. If we we did not need to quantify and unify innately human beliefs, did not feel the need to regulate our neighbors, a friendly check of their manners and morals, then we would not need the pillars of re-ligion. So, I will take little bits of this, I think, as I do from many religions and philosophies. Maybe this has more to offer than most.
I like the idea of radiating tranquility and compassion. I radiate nothing except maybe jittery misgiving, nerv-ous about my next appointment, move, breath.
Breathe.
"Zazen practice is the direst expression of our true nature. Strictly speaking for a human being, there is not other practice; there is no other way of life than this way of life."
To read more of Lizzy’s blogs, go to: buttssushiworld.homestead.com/zenjournals.html.
Advice from Abroad
Japanese major, Jon Gaspar, is studying abroad at Nanzan University. He also has a weblog on Xanga.com. On it he writes his thoughts and experiences while over there. The other day, he made a comment that might be of interest to those of you thinking of going to Japan to study.Wednesday, November 05, 2003
Attention please. The study abroad know it all is in. To all students potentially studying abroad, it is wise to consider doing one of two things.
- Before you leave your country of residence, it would be best to purchase an electronic dictionary.
- After you arrive in your country of residence, if it is a technologically advanced society, purchase an electronic dictionary there. No, seriously, do it.
"Why?" you ask. Well, unless you want to spend a lot of time leafing through a dictionary that doesn't have the same word capacity as a small hand held computer, you should take the advice. I bit the bullet and went this weekend. When it comes to Japanese electronic dictionaries (henceforth to be referred to as a denshijisho) one must be certain that there is a jump button. Then any kanji that show up on screen can be easily turned into easily readable hiragana. I was not so mad as to purchase the most expensive denshijisho avalable, but the middle range one I got certainly has enough good qualities to make it worthwhile, most notably a decent number of available words. The study abroad know it all is finished. Unless you are in a situation where you are deciding between buying food or a denshijisho, you won't regret the purchase, but all bets are off if you get a crappy one. Which you won't, if you get one with a jump button.
現代 枕の草子
In Japanese Literature in Translation (Japn 111), one of the class assignments was to compose an entry in the style of Sei Shonagon, a woman writer of the Heian period. Her Pillow Book is a collection of essays, observations and lists of likes and dislikes. The entry below is a contemporary version by one of the students.The Affairs of Kogan Plaza:
Musings in the Style of Sei Shonagon
by Benjamin Robbins, Japanese minor
It is quite interesting when one has the occasion to spend time at GW’s Kogan Plaza. There are benches on which students sit, talking to each other about their days and making plans for when they will meet again. It is fascinating to listen to these bits of conversations, and to try to get to know these other students from what can be overheard.
Within a few minutes of entering the Plaza, I in-evitably recognize another student, and we converse about recent happenings in our lives (usually ex-changing stories of mutual interest). It is best when these conversations take place on a warm, sunny day, as it is most agreeable to be outside at those times. I suppose that a light wind and bright sunlight are hin-drances to getting to class on time.
Time spent in Kogan Plaza is most pleasant with a cup of coffee. There is a vendor adjacent to the square that sells coffee (although not of great qual-ity). Often I go there, and talk to the man selling cof-fee if we both have a minute to spare. “I’ll have a medium coffee, with milk please.” He responds, “Coming right up.” The promptness and pleasure with which he prepares the coffee usually leads me to tip him generously.
Kogan Plaza becomes serene as night approaches and the sky darkens. The throngs of students that in-habit it during the day return to their dorms. It is the best time to sit and think; the quiet permits me to in-trospect, and provides a good end to the day. I sup-pose others would agree with me about nightfall.
