sticks in the street (2)

OK, so it was more the sidewalk than the street, but we often spilled into the bus/taxi lane - and passersby rarely batted an eye, having gotten accustomed to the late night crash and smack of sticks. Members of the stick group tend to do only one thing, no outside practice, and they do it every night. So some of the younger members made quite rapid progress in just 3 months. My 3 weeks did not, alas, result in such rapid progress.
Still having internet trouble (do not accept wireless network updates which are not compatible with your wireless system and which apparently cannot be un-updated...). Meanwhile, more pictures.

back in Tokyo (2)

Unpacking after a long trip or stay is always a joy for me. This time it was especially good. I came back from Beijing loaded to the gills, heavy on the clothes and books. It was all the sweeter because I made it back with two very special presents for myself: a pair of staves and a pair of yuan yang yue. I wasn't too worried about the staves. True, they stood out in their bag at over five feet long but they are, after all, made of wood and are thus not banned from being brought into Japan.
I was much more worried about the 鸳鸯钺 or yue. They are not specifically banned, but I was worried. I have tangled with the people in Tokyo's Narita Airport before and had my tai ji jian (straight sword) confiscated for three months. That sword had been a gift from Chinese friends at the wushu school in 1998. The old Japanese rules said that no steel swords could be brought into the country. My sword was promptly spotted and a magnet was produced and, lo and behold, the magnet stuck = the blade was made of steel = the sword was confiscated (I later brought it into Japan on a different flight, long story).
The logic escapes me. 99% of tai ji swords are not - in the present world - capable of cutting much of anything. They are often wielded by practitioners of an advanced age seeking some vague health benefit from tai ji without having any knowledge or sense of what a sword is used for or the danger of a live blade. I do possess a live blade or shinken which I have used in iaido since before passing 4-dan. A magnet won't stick to it but trust me, it cuts easily and well. And I can, with proper paperwork showing ownership, take it in and out of Japan without incident.
The new rules omit the reference to steel but still ban the bringing of "swords" into Japan. Here is where things get grey. Look at the picture - yue are clearly not swords, but they do have potential cutting edges (9 on the style I use, fewer on others). Mine are not sharpened (though Liu Laoshi's pair, on which I learned from day one, were...) but they could certainly poke an eye out, as the saying goes. And mine are made of steel. Of course there is no problem with possessing them in Japan; I can easily buy a pair, but at about 500 % of the price I paid in Beijing. The question is whether it would be a problem to bring them into Japan.
I bought them as a gamble, deciding to risk confiscation for the price. And the risk paid off - I got through without incident. I had been right in hoping that the long bag with two staves would draw attention, that said attention, once settled, would get me through the door with everything intact. And here we are.
It was actually in China that I had trouble - due to legitimate security concerns, not only was security tight at every venue, but there were also bag searches at most large subway stations. So after I bought the yue, I sailed nonchalantly into a subway station and boom! Spotted on the x-ray machine right away, they caused quite a stir. "You wait a minute" are words that always make me nervous and which always signal a long wait. I was running through every negotiating possibility in my mind when yet another police officer approached, told me to write down my name, hotel room, and passport number in a notebook. And that was that.
To and through the airport with no problem. Cleared at Japanese customs and on my way! The loss of the yue would have been disappointing but I had steeled my heart for possible confiscation. The loss of the staves, however, would have been crushing - I don't know how to use them as well as the yue, but they were a gift from the sticks-in-the-street group, had been personally engraved, and so on. So I got everything home without incident and can start practicing and reviewing. Only one problem -anybody want to work on some knuckle-busting paired staff routines with me?

Kung Fu Fightin' in the Street

August 19, 20, and earlier

Almost every night on the way back from training with Liu Laoshi at the opposite end of town, I get off the subway at Haidian HuangZhuang station and walk back toward the gigantic Friendship Hotel. There is a group of people practicing martial arts on the sidewalk nearby and I have gradually built a good relation with them.

They start practice late, about 930 PM, and go seven days a week year-round. Let me remind you that Beijing summers are long, hot, and humid, and that Beijing winters are long, cold, and cold. The group does halt practice in the case of heavy rain, but nothing else holds them back.

There are about ten people there on any given night, mostly regulars (all ages and genders) with a few passersby, like myself. It is pretty crazy – they don’t stop practicing when people approach on the sidewalk. Most people give them (us, I can say by now) a wide berth. Last night I heard the 小心 caution for the first time – whether it was to those practicing or those walking past, I am not sure.

Last night a staff went flying and narrowly missed a pedestrian. He was quite shocked. The staff-twirler, unperturbed, joked that it was a new Olympic sport, a variation on the javelin.

The group practices with staves about 5 feet long every night, though they also have empty hands routines and dadao in their repertoire, among others. The staves can be practiced solo or in a fast-moving partner set called duida 对打.

The first few nights, I borrowed a staff to work on some of my own routines: shuushi no kon sho from kobudo and some spear work (basics, and then plum flower spear 梅花枪). The staves this group uses are slightly heavier and thicker at one end, so the balance works better for the spear work I am accustomed to, though it is strange doing spear work with such a short weapon.

They asked me about working on their staff form, but I declined, thinking my time for training is too short, I should focus on reviewing what Liu Laoshi is teaching me, etc. Last night I stopped by to investigate kuai ban, the wooden clappers my friend Mr. Liu (no relation) teaches (he also instructs staff there).

Reading this blog, you might get the impression that I am a bit over-focused on martial arts practice and have no other interests in my life. You might be right. But recently, I have felt the need to expand my horizons because it seems there are very few interesting things I can do. In particular, I have absolutely no ability to sing or dance. But the kuaiban (kuaibar in Beijing) are a simple percussion instrument that even I might be able to handle.

I was coming home from an excellent session with Liu Laoshi (xingyi quan and bagua zhang) and had no intention of wielding a staff. I clacked out a few rhythms on the kuaibar and then Mr. Liu motioned me over. Oh boy, here we go. Just review of the partner drill we did last night, right? Yes yes yes.

Well, it started with that. Then, sneaky devil, he showed me how that is just one section of the longer form, and how seamlessly it fits in. Just a few moves before it, OK? And a few after, OK?

Gosh, the foreigner learns really fast. Give him some more, comes the voice of the javelin tosser. Oh boy indeed. We finish practicing at 12:30 and all laugh at the time. They have run me through the entire partner routine and drilled me many times. My hands survived with only a couple sore knuckles from whacks with the staff.

So I ended up spending ten minutes on kuai bar and over two hours on the staff routine (shi jia gun, 式架棍, also 势架棍, native to Beijing). And I will be going again tonight, most nights of my remaining time in Beijing, since Liu Laoshi and I had our final night practice last night.

Once I start something, I can’t give it up – thus my practice of, shall we say, more than one or two martial arts. Each time, I say to myself that THIS will be the last new things I pick up; I really have to better consolidate everything I have now. And then something happens, an opportunity presents itself, and bang, there I go again.

I reminded the group that I was currently studying martial arts with a teacher in Beijing and that practicing together with them at the same time might not be diplomatic. The jovial staff-thrower told me not to worry: Liu Laoshi teaches wu shu (武术), or martial arts; their group practices yi shu (艺术), or traditional (artistic??) arts, so there is no problem.

A fine distinction, perhaps, but it works for me, especially since the damage is now done. It will be rough getting up early for work after these post-midnight finishes, but believe me, every practice will be worth it. More to come on this group and on kuai bar.