Korea: the Beginning

I've talked a good deal about Chorus D. We're a recreational singing group. We pride ourselves on relaxed, fun singing, with less emphasis placed on the notes than on enjoying the experience. Still, as a Japanese group, we have officers, chosen each year around August. Our group head is named Sajikibara. We also have a treasurer, a secretary, and various other roles. (More on my role in a few months.) As the head of the group, Sajikibara is in charge of organizing our concerts.

Occasionally, after wrapping up rehearsal, he'll ask us to stay behind for a few minutes so he can make announcements. They're usually about upcoming singing opportunities. We all sit in a circle on the floor, and he presents the details. This takes between ten and fifteen minutes. He gives the presentation in formal Japanese, a completely different tone from our usual proceedings. He isn't as formal as possible, but it gives the presentation the feel of a company board meeting.

At the end, he asks us what we think about it. Invariably, nobody says a word at first. After a moment of pause, someone will share their thoughts. It's almost as though it's an obligatory hesitation: almost everyone eventually remarks on it, but nobody wants to jump right in, and everyone seems reluctant to be first.

The anthropologist in me finds this fascinating. The American in me--having to sit on a wooden floor for moments of interminable silence at 9:30 on a school night after rehearsal--finds it infuriating. Some people simply say nothing, even when the group is presented with a yes-or-no does-this-sound-okay question. I've noticed that, often, prolonged silence indicates that somebody disagrees with something, but is reluctant to vocalize it.

Anyway, about a month ago, Sajikibara asked us to stick around for a meeting. He told us he'd been contacted by somebody in the city government, who had in turn been contacted by someone in Pusan, Korea. Pusan, the second biggest city in South Korea, was preparing for its annual International Choral Festival.

They wanted us to be a part of it.

We would be one of forty groups at the festival, representing a total of fourteen countries. Only one other group was coming from Japan, and they were from Tokyo. Our dinky little ten-person amateur chorus was being invited on an all-expenses-paid-except-the-ferry four-day visit to Pusan, South Korea. This marked the closest I've ever seen the group come to responding immediately when Bara finished his presentation.

Everyone was thrilled by the idea. A few people apologized because they couldn't go on account of work, family, etc. Almost everyone had to get their passport.