The Great Pilgrimage
As I am admiring the courage and enthusiasm of newer students at summer camp, I cannot help reminiscing about the experience of my first aikido seminar at Emmanuel College in Boston in 1994. The late Kanai Sensei and Chiba Sensei taught along side Yamada Sensei. Going to this seminar was like a pilgrimage for me.
Having never been at a practice with so many people, I was too scared to even get on the mat when Chiba Sensei taught the first class. He flicked his ukes back and forth like Bam Bam on Flintstones. When his uke finally got too wiped out to even crawl up, he waved him away and signaled for a new one. The cycle went on for quite a while until Sensei stopped and uttered "Dozo." For once, I feel so fortunate that my aikido sucks and thus it is highly unlikely for Sensei to call me up as uke.
During his class, Kanai Sensei appeared suddenly by my side. He grabbed my gi belt, pointed at my name on it and asked me how to say it. In shock, I replied, "Sensei, that is my name." "I know it is your name! How do you say it?" Sensei looked at me with his twinkly big, round eyes. "Um, Sensei, it is a Chinese name." "I know it is a Chinese name! How do you say it?" Sensei was getting a little impatient. As soon as I told him my name in Cantonese, Sensei disappeared like a whirlwind. About five minutes later, someone yelled my name out loud from the other end of the vast mat. It was Kanai Sensei! I cannot remember exactly what he did. I only remember being held down by his finger tips into an ultra squatting position. Sensei went on and on with his explanation about the move he was showing. Meanwhile, my legs were trembling more and more vigorously. Students sat around us gave me a deeply sympathetic look. I could read "I am so sorry for you" in their eyes. They looked at me and then looked at Sensei, and then looked at me again, and then looked at Sensei again . . . I was sweating bullets and my leg muscles were burning like they were on fire. Finally, Kanai Sensei looked down at me and said, "Oh, right. You may go now." He lifted his fingers from my hand, and I fell down like a broken sac of potatoes.
At the same seminar, I did koshinage (hip throw) for the very first time. My partner was an ex-boxer. He walked me through the technique so that I could throw him. It was such a memorable experience: The big guy said he weighed over 250 lbs. Yet, when I was doing the throw with him, he was light like a feather! It took me years to figure koshinage out and relive that moment. I do not remember this big guy's name or his face. Yet, I will never forget the patience and kindness that he spared me.
At this corner of the mat, there was also a small African man wearing a blue hakama. A group of us, newbies, took turns to bow to him for practice. We held on to him like a lifesaver. We just would not let him go. Finally, he looked around at us and said, "Hey, you are taking advantage of me!!!" We, the newbies, grinned not-so-apologetically as a group. The wonderful thing was that this sweet sempai did not abandon us. He stayed at that corner with us, and let us exploit him for the rest of the class.
Some people go to a seminar to improve themselves. Some people go to a seminar to prove themselves. And then, there are some who would take the hands of the weaker ones as they are improving themselves so that we can all move forward together. Thank you Big Boxer Guy and my African Sempai in Blue Hakama. Wherever you are, I am forever grateful. You are a real inspiration to me.
Having never been at a practice with so many people, I was too scared to even get on the mat when Chiba Sensei taught the first class. He flicked his ukes back and forth like Bam Bam on Flintstones. When his uke finally got too wiped out to even crawl up, he waved him away and signaled for a new one. The cycle went on for quite a while until Sensei stopped and uttered "Dozo." For once, I feel so fortunate that my aikido sucks and thus it is highly unlikely for Sensei to call me up as uke.
During his class, Kanai Sensei appeared suddenly by my side. He grabbed my gi belt, pointed at my name on it and asked me how to say it. In shock, I replied, "Sensei, that is my name." "I know it is your name! How do you say it?" Sensei looked at me with his twinkly big, round eyes. "Um, Sensei, it is a Chinese name." "I know it is a Chinese name! How do you say it?" Sensei was getting a little impatient. As soon as I told him my name in Cantonese, Sensei disappeared like a whirlwind. About five minutes later, someone yelled my name out loud from the other end of the vast mat. It was Kanai Sensei! I cannot remember exactly what he did. I only remember being held down by his finger tips into an ultra squatting position. Sensei went on and on with his explanation about the move he was showing. Meanwhile, my legs were trembling more and more vigorously. Students sat around us gave me a deeply sympathetic look. I could read "I am so sorry for you" in their eyes. They looked at me and then looked at Sensei, and then looked at me again, and then looked at Sensei again . . . I was sweating bullets and my leg muscles were burning like they were on fire. Finally, Kanai Sensei looked down at me and said, "Oh, right. You may go now." He lifted his fingers from my hand, and I fell down like a broken sac of potatoes.
At the same seminar, I did koshinage (hip throw) for the very first time. My partner was an ex-boxer. He walked me through the technique so that I could throw him. It was such a memorable experience: The big guy said he weighed over 250 lbs. Yet, when I was doing the throw with him, he was light like a feather! It took me years to figure koshinage out and relive that moment. I do not remember this big guy's name or his face. Yet, I will never forget the patience and kindness that he spared me.
At this corner of the mat, there was also a small African man wearing a blue hakama. A group of us, newbies, took turns to bow to him for practice. We held on to him like a lifesaver. We just would not let him go. Finally, he looked around at us and said, "Hey, you are taking advantage of me!!!" We, the newbies, grinned not-so-apologetically as a group. The wonderful thing was that this sweet sempai did not abandon us. He stayed at that corner with us, and let us exploit him for the rest of the class.
Some people go to a seminar to improve themselves. Some people go to a seminar to prove themselves. And then, there are some who would take the hands of the weaker ones as they are improving themselves so that we can all move forward together. Thank you Big Boxer Guy and my African Sempai in Blue Hakama. Wherever you are, I am forever grateful. You are a real inspiration to me.
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