monkeys (1)

Monkeys (part one)

June 7, 2008 and August, 2008

A year ago? Two years back? Yearly special training (gasshuku) with OO University’s Gong Fu group in the countryside.

The second night, I woke up early, very early, maybe 5 AM, to the sound of scratching on the roof. This was not the sound of a branch scraping the roof in the wind. Something was moving across the roof. I got up and saw that one of the students was also awake. We saw a monkey outside on the second floor balcony and were drawn irresistibly to the window.

Outside we saw a pack, an army of monkeys, all moving down the hill and across to our right. There seemed to be no end to them. They kept coming and coming in a spread-out swarm, sometimes hopping across the rooftops of nearby second homes but mostly scrambling along the ground.

All ages and sizes. They didn’t seem to be in a particular hurry but they were definitely moving together toward a destination. Glimpses of wildlife are rare in Japan. We weren’t really that deep in the countryside, either, so this was all the more surprising.

A few more moments and they were gone, continuing their pre-dawn exodus, moving on down the mountainside.

A strange and magical chance, watching them as the two of us stood side by side at the window. Magic – there is none of it in modern (post-modern) Japan. Everything runs smoothly and with precision. There are few surprises, and everything seems familiar.

In contrast, it seems that much magic and mystery remain in China though here, too, they are being swept away. One of my favorite books ever is Mark Salzman’s Iron and Silk, which draws me back again and again. He was in China at the perfect time, just after it began re-opening to the outside world. Moreover, he had all the right introductions and good language ability.

I am filled with new motivation each time I read the book – but also feel a tinge of regret, at being stuck in a Japan empty of magic and having spent too long here not getting deeply connected with the best teachers of Japanese arts.

Why I didn’t make these connections is a long story for another time, but much of the fault lies with me, not landing in Japan with a clear plan and determination to go straight to the best. 13 years in Japan, and I am now looking back at how very differently I could/ should have done things.

Midway through my years in Japan, I spent most of a year in China, one of the best periods of my life. I sampled mystery and magic at that time, but returned to Japan before having tasted deeply.

Maybe I doomed myself from the start, coming to Asia with the naïve idea of grasping the language and martial arts of not one but two countries. There is a proverb about trying to catch two rabbits and missing them both, and it has dogged me since my arrival.

Now I train on occasion with these kids from the university who are exactly half my age. I float on the fringes, in principle part of the group but in fact an outsider in every way. No matter – I am after more training time with Mr. T, not seeking acceptance from kids younger than my stepson.

I am quite fortunate to have been invited to take part in special trainings with this group. I have gotten intense scrutiny from Mr. T and exposure to chuojiao fanzi quan and ba ji quan in addition to my regular work with ba gua zhang and xing yi quan.

I have joined their monthly special practices for a couple years now, usually an 8-hour outdoor marathon. Each practice has been excellent, but my strongest memory may be sharing that moment, watching those monkeys making their way among the houses and cars of sleeping humans, on their way to who knows where. Did they have a clear plan for where they were going? Will they look back and reflect on missed opportunities?