Training Session on Tuesday, 21 August, 2007

Yet another session I fail to follow up with (so much for zanshin...), but I should post it anyway.

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Schedule for session on Tuesday, 21 August 2007

Ah, quite a bit happened today. It turned out to be one of my better sessions (as in, I’m somewhat satisfied in my performance today), and was quite fun. In addition, we had the company of the youngest ikkyu rank holder that I've seen so far, a 13-year old boy from Shizuoka Prefecture in Japan. But before that, on to the training schedule!

Beginner’s Class

• Learned formal position for standing

oFeet planted firmly, with heels touching together, pointing out at a 45 degree angle.

• Reviewed footwork

• Reviewed big swing in suburi

• Reviewed men suburi

• Reviewed jumping suburi

• Note to self, I noticed that I’m starting to use a bit less power when doing suburi...but struggling to use only the left hand’s power when doing big swings. It’s definitely true that the higher you go, the more you need to go over the basics (and considering that I haven’t gotten very high, it’s all the more important :D). Otherwise, I’m a bit more able to relax, although keeping my stomach tight seems a bit harder these days.

Senior’s Class

• Normal warm-up exercise

• Korean-style jumping suburi

• A new exercise, courtesy of Do-Hun-senpai and done directly after warm-up when everybody’s still in a big circle. One person starts jumping suburi with kiai, while everybody else does it in silence. Once the person who started has done 20, the next person continues and does another twenty, while the person who did it before does the jumping suburi silently as everybody else does. The process goes on until the last person is reached. Intense? Yes. The point of this is to strengthen both body and mind, as not only will your arms lose some feeling after a while and your feet feel like lead blocks, your thoughts will be tormented by the temptation to just stop and quit. Which, unfortunately, I gave into. Er, several times. Yup. Still, we’ll probably be doing it again in the near future, so it’ll be good to be prepared for that.

• It’s definitely best to keep a steady swinging and breathing rhythm. I used up most of my energy doing my kiai bit at the start and began to falter after the first 80 or so. Also, relaxing the shoulders and having a balanced jump would probably help a lot in the long run. Kudos to Clement and Kevin, the only guys in our generation that could go through all the way. Extreme.

• Kirikaeshi, with and without blocking

• Men strikes

• Men-kote strikes

• Small men-kote strikes

• Something new for me. Still haven’t quite gotten the hang of distance and timing for small cuts, as I’m used to making a single cut per long stamp. Need more practice, but otherwise ok.

• Small men strikes with harai

• Another new technique. Harai is done by warding off the opponent’s shinai, so that it’s not aiming at the centre and gives the opportunity for a small men strike. Not sure exactly how much off-centre the opponent’s kensen should be, but I found that the ikkyu boy only needed to tap my shinai slightly off-centre to get in with a small men strike.

Watching the ikkyu senpai (ech...I should've really written names down) practice was quite interesting. His style is different to ours, though still using the same chudan stance. Kind of like Do-Hun-senpai's style, but less fierce. Interestingly, I see his movements as short bursts of speed; he seems to bounce slightly forwards on the balls of his feet when in chudan and suddenly spring to deliver a blow. I also had the honor of being his motodachi for the harai-waza. Compared to the way he delivered his strikes, I'd look extremely clumsy and wasteful in terms of energy. He doesn't knock the shinai away; rather, he taps it aside for a split second and goes in on the same step. Perhaps that's what I'm supposed to be doing? Still, I'm certainly in no position to say whether it's right or wrong...it was just different to what I'm used to seeing.

That’s about all we did for this session, which doesn’t seem as rigorous as last Tuesday’s (which, incidentally, I haven’t written down yet) but still pretty challenging. Had a jigeiko with Leo-senpai, which ended prematurely with me tripping unceremoniously on my own hakama. Funnily enough, I still had plenty of energy left over (or maybe I was hyper at that time) to goof around with Joyce. However, despite me still having enough energy (whereas I should’ve been downright exhausted if I gave it my all during keiko), I felt pretty satisfied with my own performance. I think I’ve been able to relax my shoulders a bit better, and also stop thinking too much doing a jigeiko. All in all, quite a few lessons learned.

My Bogu and I

Looking back on a previous post about bogu, it’s funny how very little time has passed between the first time I struggled to put my bogu on properly to now, where it has become something of a routine. After all, I only started wearing it in mid-July, and I can still remember how terrifying it was suddenly being put in the ranks of people who all knew how to do it properly. Suffice to say, it wasn’t exactly love at first sight with my bogu.

That Saturday afternoon, I felt completely out of place and clumsy. Even in unpacking I was unsure. Where do I put my men? Which way do the kote face? Why is my men slipping on down on top of my kote? Before anything had happened, I already had that sinking feeling that precedes a major screw-up (much like when I realise my 2000-word essay is due in two nights). Everything was wrong. Then the mensuke order came. I tried desperately several times to put on my tenugui, and by the time I finally got the thing to stay on my head (albeit looking like a complete mess doing so) everybody else, including those of my generation who had been using bogu for a bit longer, was standing up. I tried putting on my men calmly, but it wouldn’t work. People were standing before me now, ready for kirikaeshi. At that moment, any calm I possessed left me and I frantically tried to tie my men up quickly. Predictably, I failed. It was only through the intervention of James-senpai that I could finally get it to stay on my head. I remember how ashamed I felt that someone else was tying up my men for me, how I was unable to do anything but sit there and wait silently. The thought that was going through my head was that I was a burden on my senpai, and I let that affect the rest of my day.

For the entire length of my first time in bogu, I was disoriented, tense, and hesitant. Every blow that connected to my armor seemed painful. Being the last person in bogu also meant that I didn’t hear the instructions, so my kirikaeshi was all over the place. I didn’t lift my shinai enough, I couldn’t concentrate on anything, and Marleen-sensei informed me after the session that my blows were too powerful. At the time, I couldn’t understand, as I was already feeling discouraged and utterly ashamed before she said it. That only made me feel even worse. It was only the first time with bogu on, and I felt terrible. How could I possibly go on like this, having to depend on other people to help me put my own armour on? That feeling swirled on as I packed my bogu in silence and walked on home. Awatea tried cheering me up on the way home (as my way home passes his Hall of Residence), but I was too full of self-pity and regret to really cheer up. I couldn’t sleep, and wondering why suddenly kendo became scary and hard (conveniently forgetting that kendo was somewhat scary and hard when I only started four months before).

But there was an important lesson that came out of that, something that I hadn’t learnt up till then. Practice does make perfect. Or at least close to it. For far too long I had slacked off and relied to being able to suddenly remember how to do things at the last minute. It was something that had so far worked in my academic life, but it was shown to be ineffective in real life. That night, I resolved that I would practice putting on my bogu until I got the hang of it and stopped being an embarrassment to myself. And that I actually did. For the first time in my life, I found something that I could take pride in getting better at. Well, apart from cooking and living on my own, but those are entirely different stories. For the rest of the week, I devoted my spare time to practice putting on my bogu. Much of it I re-learned from videos and manuals online, as the materials I originally had couldn't show me precisely what to do. By the next session, I had progressed significantly, from barely being able to put on my armour to being able to at least keep it on for more than fifteen minutes without worrying. I was still slow, but I had gained some confidence. As a result I was much better prepared to take on the day’s keiko. I actually felt proud. It's probably a small thing for most of the others to whom it was a routine, but for me it felt like I had finally done something worthwhile for my time spent.

About a week later, after I had posted the Tuesday session (July 31^st, 2007) reflection on the blog (see below), Robin-senpai (Parrington, that is) came up to me and asked me about how I felt about putting on my bogu. He had read the entry, and wanted to give me a bit of his own thoughts on the subject. He told me that it didn’t matter how quickly everyone else put on their bogu, and that I didn’t have to worry about being slow. After all, even the best senpai were beginners once, beginners who also more or less struggled to put on their own armour. What mattered was that I did so properly, even if it meant being a little slower than everybody else. Eventually, I’d be able to do so quickly and efficiently enough to keep up with the rest. That helped put things into perspective; I wasn’t the only person in the club who couldn’t put on my own armour. There would be new beginners, and in time I may be in Robin’s position, helping a kohai realise that just being able to put on bogu by yourself was an achievement, no matter how slow or difficult it may seem at the start.

If someone were to ask me now whether wearing bogu is easier now that I’ve had some experience, I’d say that it’s still not. It’s still as uncomfortable and awkward as it was a month ago, and there are times when I feel wearing it is such a hassle. Plus, doing keiko in it is still as tiring and dehydrating as it was before. But compared to my first time, I’m a lot more used to my armour now, more aware of little details I couldn’t quite grasp before. Where before it required my entire do hang off on one string to make me realise a loop was undone, I can recognize that a string is slightly loose just by the general feel of how the do feels within seconds. I learned how to make knots that will stop the kote strings from coming undone every five minutes in a keiko. It’s as if the more I wear it, the more it becomes a part of me, just as my shinai became an extension of my body after four months of feeling awkward and strange to swing.

So, just as with my kendo in general, putting on the bogu hasn’t gotten any easier. If anything, wearing the bogu now means that the challenges will only get harder and harder as I proceed along the long road of the sword. But I've seen that one thing is for sure; if I practice long and hard enough, then one day I may improve my skill...and perhaps myself in the process.

Cheers to that thought.

Winter Camp

Ah, gomennasai, I know that this is extremely late in coming. Actually, it's been sitting in the draft section since Tuesday, but I kept adding stuff in. Enjoy.

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Waikato Kendo Winter Camp 2007


nearly two full days of kendo. It was amazing. Just being in the same hall and practicing with so many others (far more than the club has, at any rate), listening to the sharp cracks of shinai in unison with the battlecries of more than sixty people. And in the middle of it all, before the banners of the Federation and the club, Inoue-sensei sat serenely, watching the young hopefuls battle others and themselves. At least, that's how I remember it. Please do excuse me if I seem to glorify it a tad much.

On a less dramatized note, the Winter Camp took place last weekend, from 9 am to 5 pm on Saturday and from 8 am to 3 pm on Sunday. Over sixty participants from clubs throughout the country (around 10) joined the Camp, which was hosted by none other than the Waikato Kendo Club. The highlight of the camp was a visit by Inoue-sensei, an 80-year old hachidan from Japan who is today considered to be a 'living treasure' due to his advanced knowledge and understanding of all things kendo. The following post is a reflection on what I personally found to be of importance, both internally and externally, from that weekend.

Mindset
This doesn't exactly fall into the 'camp' category, but I thought it would be pretty useful if I wrote it down for future reference. On the Friday before the camp, the New Zealand national kendo team practiced at the Uni's Rec Center basketball hall from 08.30 to around 16.00. I came in around noon to watch how they trained. After their warm-up session (which seemed tough enough as it was, lasting for more than at least two hours), they began to do jigeiko. At this stage, Inoue-sensei came up to watch over the combatants. After the first few rounds, he stood up and began to talk about having the right mindset when going into battle. Here's what I caught on to:

• Always be prepared, even before battle. If you enter the battlefield without taking note of your opponent and your surroundings, you will already have disadvantaged yourself.
• Start analyzing your opponent and make plans of attack as you step into the arena. Note how they walk, hold their shinai, gaze/stare/look, etc. Do this even when bowing or sonkyo, both starting and finishing.
• Note to self: this may mean I'll need contact lenses if I'm going to keep practicing for at least another year.
  
• If you go into battle without having a plan of attack, you will be hesitant and as a result your kendo will not be good.
• I'm not quite sure about how he meant it, but the way I interpret it is that if I go into a battle without a clean plan of what to hit and when to hit, I'll attack wildly and I'll hesitate a lot (which does ring true for when I do jigeiko).
  
• Have a 'battle-face' ready.
• It was something about going into battle with the appropriate facial expression to allow for the mindset to kick in. Inoue-sensei referred to the semi-legendary swordsman Miyamoto Musashi having a battle-face which was somewhere between a deep frown and a thoughtful expression. So, frowning deep enough to create a small furrow above the bridge of your nose, by completely focusing on the opponent. Actually, I might have this the other way around, as, logically, if you focused your eyes on the opponent intensely, you'd eventually go into a semi-frown. Might have to check with Sam-sensei or Marleen-sensei for a better explanation.
  
• Always have it in your mind that the encounter will be a life-or-death situation.
• How exactly we're supposed to achieve that feeling is still beyond me, but I think it's something you get after enough fights. Hopefully.

Again, I'm not saying that these are exactly what Inoue-sensei said that Friday, just what I understood and interpreted.

During the camp, I also got some more personal lessons on mindset. Here are the ones that gave me a lasting impression.

• Commitment.
• It wasn't really a specific lesson that we were all taught, but more of something that I pondered on throughout the length of the entire camp. I remember that it was after a tough suburi session on the first day (see the kiai section for more of that) that Bennet-sensei of the Christchurch dojo (who was supervising the drill) called us together and began to talk about commitment. Whoever didn't want to take it anymore was welcome to pack up and go home. I have to admit, I felt a little shaken at that point. The choice was either to stick it through, pain and all, or go home, in front of at least 50 other kendoka, and not be able to show my face for quite a while. Unless, of course, I had an asthma attack or something, which would validate my reason for leaving. So I stayed, although maybe for the wrong reason. As the days went by (as well as a particularly long night), I had more chances to think about where my commitments lie. Lots of doubts, especially during tough keiko sessions. I still haven't come to a conclusion yet, but I got this in my mind; kendo isn't all about fun and games. It can be fun, but it requires patience, perseverance, and a willingness to get throughly exhausted.
• No regrets.
• This is probably the one experience I can still recall properly throughout the whole session. I was standing in line during a jigeiko session with the sensei on the Sunday afternoon. There were five people waiting before me, so I had a good chance to look at how the sensei I would face (Ken-sensei, from Japan) fought. That's when an image popped in my mind. It was like one of those epic war movies, where you have the champion of one side cutting the ranks of nameless footsoldiers with barely any effort. As I got closer, I realised that there was no way that I'd be able to defeat him. Knowing that, I began to relax slightly. I put it in my mind that even if I couldn't 'kill' him, I'd die doing the best I could in trying to do so. So when my turn came up, I felt virtually nothing. I was breathing a lot better than when I usually do jigeiko, and I was able to complete most of my strikes properly. He gave me a sound beating (five men and kote strikes before I can even lift my shinai, and that was in the beginning!), as expected, but I left the jigeiko feeling happy and satisfied with how I performed. I was well and truly spent, but it felt like I honestly accomplished something meaningful (rather than make a half-hearted attempt and lie to myself that I did something). I don't think I can thank him enough for opening my eyes to that feeling; I'm hoping to one day be able to use it on a regular basis.
  
• Self-confidence.
• It felt a little intimidating to be in the company of so many other kendoka, most of them better than myself. Especially when we trained in pairs. I think I annoyed some people for doing a poor job being motodachi. Or the time I accidentally whacked a certain someone over the head with my bokken during nihon kendo kata, which was a rather distressing event (but useful, as it taught me not to let my kensen drop when swinging). Eventually it occurred to me that rather than try to catch up with the levels of all the others, which would be futile, I might as well do the best I can at my level.Heck, even at one stage Inoue-sensei must have been a beginner too. Better to work longer on a steady base than go up high only fall back down because of weak foundations (eh?).
  

Kiai

Probably the aspect of kendo that Inoue-sensei emphasized the most. All through the weekend, he talked about how important kiai was in kendo. It wasn't only the breath and the voice, it was the measure of the soul and how much you were willing to give in the fight.

• Keep kiai loud and clear, and don't stop it on a lower note.
• Best example: one-breath suburi. The first real (i.e. non-kata) training we did on the Saturday was constant empty cuts, with various styles of cutting (see techniques section for explanation). The difference was that we would do it in pairs, and compete to see who could last longer on a single breath while constantly using kiai. We weren't allowed to let our kiai drop, and had to know our limit. Now that I've tried it out in a jigeiko setting, it makes a little more sense too this newbie mind. If I drop my kiai after a single strike, I relax slightly and think that I have some space to gather myself for a next attack. I'll probably miss the strike and get hit (several times, actually) before being able to go for another, not to mention having to wind myself up for another attack (which would take time and extra energy). On the other hand, if I keep my kiai, I'm forcing myself to stay conscious and therefore a bit more able to rebound with another attack. Still, it's no use if I keep screaming and run out of breath halfway through...
  
• Kiai for the benefit of others.
• This lesson came from Bennet-sensei. He talked about the importance of kiai not only for those in combat, but also for those watching. Everyone in the dojo is training, whether directly or indirectly. Those not training or waiting for a turn have the responsibility of cheering on the people they are watching. This support is meant to help the fighting spirit of the trainee up so that he/she is continually encouraged to push the limit and concentrate on perfecting his/her kendo. Or, at least that's what I think Bennet-sensei was talking about. Whatever the goal, it's good to maintain solidarity among fellow kendoka, especially those of the same club. Fighto!

New Techniques

Funnily enough, this is the one section that I didn't make too many notes on. So here's a short list of new training sets we went through...

• One-breath suburi.
• As mentioned before, doing suburi for an amount of swings with only one breath (which means one continual breath, no pauses inbetween). Enforces concentration on breath control and arm movements. Two main variations:
• x [insert suburi type] forwards, y backwards (e.g. 4 jogeburi forwards, 5 back)
• [insert suburi type] until your breath runs out. Can have further variation such as:
• Jumping suburi
• Jumping suburi with one swing per step (instead of back - forward/strike - back, back/strike -forward/strike - back/strike)
• 'Switchfoot' suburi (position of kamae switches every strike via a hop, but still in kamae)
  
• Note: If my terms are a bit (yeah, right) confusing, try them out. Might work better that way.
• One breath kirikaeshi.
• I think some of the others have already pointed out this one. Normal kirikaeshi, but on one breath from tai-atari.
  
• A variant of this was doing it in rounds, where the motodachi begins kirikaeshi once the person doing it first runs out of breath. The first person thus becomes motodachi, and does the same routine. This can go on for several rounds until both are completely exhausted. To help both motodachi (as both become motodachi in cycles) react better once the partner runs out of breath, two additional people can help on either side, pushing the motodachi forwards to keep the cycle going.
• One breath continuous stamping strikes.
• Similar to the stamping strike (fumikomi-ashi?) exercise we do, which is doing a number (or an unlimited number) of strikes with stamping from one end of the gym to the other. Only difference is that all the strikes from one end are in one breath. Watching the more experienced senpai do it was particularly exciting; one looked almost as if he were running half an inch off the ground, but his stamps still came at the same time as his kiai and tennauchi.He also got a recognition from Inoue-sensei.
  
• I found out something I didn't realise about my fumikomi from Wells-sensei. He told me that my swings were too fast for my feet, thus I finish my strikes off before the stamp. Currently trying to remedy that.
• The 'Devil's Own' Keiko.
• Not sure about the real name for this, 'Devil' keiko is just what I termed it. It was given by Bennet-sensei, and lives up to its name. It goes like this:
• Start off with jigeiko,
• Continue into five sets of men-kote strikes,
• Go straight into kakari-keiko,
• Finish off with a round of kirikaeshi,
• Rinse and repeat the above steps until a) the instructor signals stop or b) you drop from sheer exhaustion.
• I kid you not, it can get tough. It probably only goes on for five to ten minutes at the most, but it'll feel like an eternity when you're doing it. Highly recommended to strengthen stamina and willpower, as you might well be wishing to faint after the first few rounds. Fun for the whole kendoka family. Nonetheless, it really made me realise how important it is to relax my shoulders, control my breathing and be especially attentive as a motodachi.
  

Kata & Philosophy

And now, for something completely different. As most of us will probably know, Inoue-sensei is renowned for his philosophical insight on the meaning of kendo kata, and has published a book on the matter. Therefore, it we were extremely fortunate to be able to learn this from the man himself, without having to buy the book. Although buying the book would've been technically cheaper, it would never have amounted to the value of being able to see Inoue-sensei show us precisely what he means. In short, it made all the difference in performing the first three kata. The gist of it was that kata 1 to 3 are not simple simulated encounters between 'good' and 'evil', but rather steps of enlightenment for the kendoka (I posted my thoughts based on this in the previous post). That I knew. But what I didn't know was the meaning behind each stance taken. Thus, here's a short list which I managed to take on the Sunday.

• Jodan no kamae
• Both hidari jodan (uchidachi) and migi jodan (shidachi) have the same essence; exposing one's self to danger as the stance does not allow for the user to recover quickly enough after a failed attack. Therefore, both uchidachi and shidachi must move with resolve, accepting that each may die in the encounter for their respective belief. In addition to that, neither party should feel any hostility towards the other. Uchidachi fights because he/she must, as does shidachi. Shidachi, on the other hand, does not rejoice over the 'death' of the uchidachi, and must therefore move back in reflection of his act once he has struck. After all, killing is killing, even if it is in self-defence.
• Chudan no kamae
  
• I forgot to write down about chudan, but Inoue-sensei said something about chudan no kamae having a 'true' name, which reflects on why it is used to disable the opponent in nihonme kendo kata.
• Gedan no kamae
  
• Another one I failed to write down, though I'm not sure whether Inoue-sensei said anything in particular about this stance.
  
• Hasso no kamae
  
• According to Inoue-sensei, the hasso stance (sword drawn back upright, where the tsuba is level with the mouth) originates from Buddhism, representing the eight levels of enlightenment a person must go through to become...er...enlightened. It should be of note that the kata it is used in is separate to the first three, where it begins to look more on more technical matters. The uchidachi (who uses hasso) must feel a sense of dedication and willingness to teach shidachi all he/she can in this one encounter. The analogy used was that uchidachi in yonhonme kendo kata must act like the sun, giving its rays equally to all beings on earth. Not sure how that has to do with the kata itself, but that's what I wrote down.
  
• My personal take on it is that the uchidachi 'releases' the knowledge to shidachi, represented by 'holding in' the knowledge (at the start of the kata and after the first attack) and 'releasing' that knowledge in the direction of the shidachi (represented by the two attacks). Just my two cents.
  
• Wakigamae
  
• Completely opposite to hasso no kamae's somewhat closed stance, wakigamae sees shidachi pulling the sword all the back to the point where the kensen is pointing down at the ground behind him/her. This is symbolic of shidachi being the student in yonhonme kendo kata, ready and wide open to receive what uchidachi will teach. The body is completely exposed, and therefore shidachi's life is at stake. If shidachi receives the 'knowledge' (in the form of the attacks) incorrectly, there will be no second chances. Again, there has to be that resolution from both sides for the kata to make any sense.

Just to finish off, here are a few more things of personal importance (feel free to skip this if you want, these are just personal rambles).

• In retrospect sleeping in the gym mirrored my mindset in doing kendo. Sure, I was pretty eager to do so. A few hours later, I began to realize that it wasn't going to be as easy as I imagined. Halfway through the night, I got restless and cold (I was stupid enough to only bring a sleeping bag and a light jacket), and began questioning why I volunteered in the first place. All the while I kept thinking of how easy it would be to just walk out of the doors and go home for the night. But on the other hand, I knew that I had promised and that it was a responsibility I asked for. Eventually, I found out that the gym's heating system was working (although I'll probably go to hell for wasting that much energy to heat myself up :D) and that five chairs can make a pretty good substitute for a bed. I even managed to sleep properly for five hours before being woken up by security. The point I'm trying to make is that me volunteering to stay overnight is very much like the beginning of kendo; it's all fun and new. Then, the floors start to get cold and uncomfortable, just like kendo seeming to become more of a chore once I'm used to it. The doors represent my commitment, of whether I'll stay true to what I said I would do (which is stay in kendo for at least a year) or quit and walk away. At the moment, these are the things that are going through my head whenever I do kendo. It's still fun, but there is also the sense of duty and sacrifice (e.g. getting exhausted and doing things I'm not too fond of), and I do question whether I'm really serious in continuing my kendo studies. The chairs and heating represent what I hope; the moments of enlightenment and sense of acheivements that will reinforce my will and help me to stay in the club longer. Maybe I'm just looking too much into my own predicament, but I know that my night in the gym really made me think seriously.
• There were four times during the first day's kata training where I ended being without a partner. It wasn't that I didn't look for a partner, it just seems that everytime I find one, I/they get shifted so that I'm left facing an empty spot on the opposite side. I was beginning to feel a little discouraged by this, but tried to do it as best as I could. Luckily the nanadan sensei came up twice to assist me. I can't remember his name, but I will remember him. The way he did his kata was firm and confident, and by doing so it helped me find my own confidence and resolve to perform as best as I could. It was as if he was teaching me without words, leading me only with his spirit and his eyes. I can still remember the third kata, where his movements as shidachi truly made me retreat and feel fear. One second I lunge at him, the next I'm three steps back with his kensen between my eyes. Never have I felt that intense when doing a kata, not even when I'm about to get hit. Again, he's someone to whom I can't give enough thanks. He taught me how to 'feel' when I'm doing kata, and I'm most grateful for that lesson. Cheers to you, sensei, wherever you may be.
  

All in all, I learned quite a lot from the kendo camp. Many thanks and congratulations to Sam-sensei and Marleen-sensei, who made it happen and made sure that everything went smoothly (with an extra to Marleen-sensei, who sacrificed her training on both days to make sure everything was going well in the background). Many thanks also to all the other members who joined, for all the solidarity we shared that weekend. Special thanks to the guys and girls who made sure the food was distributed correctly to everyone (bless your kind hearts). Here's to a successful winter camp, and to another in the near future! *cheering*

[End]

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Is it just me, or did that last paragraph sound like an award acceptance speech? Yeesh.

Well, that's my report on the 2007 Winter Kendo Camp. Many apologies if I got too liberal with specific terms or rambled on too much (speaking of which, I just realized this report is about 7 pages on MS Word, which is far more than I'd write for a normal essay :D). Good night everyone, and see you all tomorrow!

Training Session on Saturday, 4 August 2007

Yes, yes, I know it's overdue. This one's been through several drafts, and the one I'm posting is the best I could come up with. Gommennasai, all. Expect last Tuesday's to come up tomorrow night or so.
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Schedule for session on Saturday, 4 August 2007

Senior Class

• Reviewed kata 1 and 2
• Learned kata 3
• Uchidachi and shidachi start by lowering their kensen to knee height (enemy's knee, that is).
  
• Take three steps in, into the 'danger zone' (no pun intended). Both raise kensen up slowly to chudan no kamae.
  
• Uchidachi takes a slide/step forward, thrusting the bokuto horizontally (yaa!) to stab shidachi's heart (think of it sliding in, between shidachi's ribs).
  
• Shidachi steps back in response, and pulls the bokuto back slightly to deflect the thrust. Using the groove of his/her bokuto, shidachi directs the stab away.
• Shidachi counters (toh!) by moving forward in chudan-no-kamae. Uchidachi takes a step back and makes an clockwise circular movement with the kensen to tap the side of the shidachi's bokuto.
• Step back (non-sliding step) with RIGHT foot.
  
• Shidachi moves forwards another step. Uchidachi does as above, but makes an anticlockwise movement.
• Step back (non-sliding step) with LEFT foot.
• Shidachi takes three steps forwards, pushing Uchidachi back. Shidachi raises kensen gradually from chudan so that by the end of the third step it is level with Uchidachi's forehead.
• Shidachi: Move forward strongly. Foot sequence is RIGHT,LEFT, RIGHT. Non-sliding at this point.
• Uchidachi: Drop kensen to yamei (rest) position to show surrender. Foot sequence is LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT. No sliding.
• Shidachi halts for a split-second, then goes back five steps to center, gradually lowering kensen to chudan-no-kamae. Uchidachi moves after shidachi's second step, gradually raising kensen to chudan.
• Shidachi: Foot sequence is: LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT.
• Uchidachi: Foot sequence is: RIGHT, LEFT, RIGHT.
  

Personal Thoughts:

On the philosophical scale, I liked how Sam-sensei explained the psychological and moral side of kata. And the way he puts it is coincidentally in tune with what I've been learning (from the parents, books, religion) about self defence; the ultimate goal of learning martial arts is so that you don't need to use the deadly techniques to stop people from doing unjust actions. Here's my summary, with bits of personal interpretation, of the first three kata.

• Kata no. 1 - the most basic form of self defense - hit back. The shidachi delivers a counter-blow that, if connected, will slice the uchidachi's head in half. While it may be necessary to stop an opponent (provided the opponent in question is unjust and will jeopardize the lives of others) by killing him/her, the shidachi is also technically guilty of taking another person's life regardless of justification. Which leads shidachi to regret and reflect, moving on to...
• Kata no. 2 - same story, different outcome. Uchidachi goes in for shidachi's wrists, shidachi dodges and cuts off uchidachi's wrist in retaliation. This time, shidachi is wise enough not to take his/her opponent's life, and chooses to disable instead. However, the implication of this is that shidachi makes uchidachi invalid, possibly ruining uchidachi's life (which could potentially be changed otherwise). Again, shidachi must move on and reflect on how to acheive the ultimate defence; that is, how to stop the next oppressor sans bloodshed. Years (or hours?) later, a third encounter happens...
• Kata no. 3 - this time, shidachi has learned the folly of the first two encounters; the first ended with the death of the opponent, the second with maiming. Now shidachi assumes a more alert, but relaxed, stance, actually letting his opponent get close enough for a thrust to the heart. Blocking that, shidachi moves forwards, constantly threating uchidachi but never raising the sword. Eventually, uchidachi realises that the cause is lost, and that there is no other way but surrender. Whether or not uchidachi would stab shidachi in the back once the latter walks away is irrelevant, though ideally we'd hope to see both parties back off in honorable fashion. The point is, at this stage shidachi is able to convince uchidachi of the errors of his/her way, without unnecessary bloodshed. Shidachi should be thankful of not having blood on his/her hands, uchidachi should count blessings and be glad to escape with his/her life.

Interestingly enough, this was an argument my parents once gave me when I asked about whether or not my religion allows for killing in self-defence. Their question to me was, "why kill, if you can avoid trouble altogether". Again, it parallels with my new knowledge of kata. Killing in self-defence is permissible, but should be avoided when possible; disabling the enemy is better, but may have repercussions later on (e.g. vengeance, creating a dependency in the invalid opponent); thus, the best way is to win is to avoid striking altogether (whether through diplomacy or displaying the business end of a sword) and avoid trouble from the start.

Just as a small note, Sun Tzu also said that the best kind of victory is the bloodless kind, for both sides.

Phew. Talk about a rant. Sorry if it all seems irrelevant, just wanted to get that off my chest. Arigatou gozaimashita!

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Training Session Tuesday 31 July, 2007

First entry's always the messiest...and possibly the most reluctantly patched-up. So here's my take on last Tuesday.

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Today’s Schedule

Beginner Class

• Reviewed chudan no kamae.
• Reviewed footwork.
• Reviewed jogeburi.
• Reviewed men strikes.
• Reviewed kote strikes.

Senior Class

• Warm-up
• Put on kote, trained kirikaeshi
• Note:

Motodachi receives 9 strikes; 4 backwards and 5 forwards. Footwork for motodachi is like walking during kata – hold shinai parallel to body, left side first (right men strike always first).

• Put on men and kote, trained more kirikaeshi.

• Reviewed fumikomi (stamping with a strike)

• Learned “leaping” (not sure what it’s called; basically a long skip forward after fumikomi)

• Learned “leaping” back (for kirikaeshi)

• Did kirikaeshi with “leap”

• Did single men strikes with stamping

• Learned kirikaeshi with extra step in – need to learn real Japanese name.

• “Anti-motodachi” (excuse the liberties taken) steps in once, motodachi steps back once in response. AM steps in again, M lowers guard. AM strikes, kiai is men. For the whole process until the strike, AM does seimei (yaaaaaaaaa.....-men) continuously.

• Learned kote kirikaeshi – again, must see official name

• Sidestep, wait for M to expose RIGHT kote (not left – they’re supposed to hit and be able to escape to the right of M), strike at angle to prevent coming back to chudan with risk of giving M an accidental tsuki (throat jab).

Afterthoughts

Two people told me tonight that I seem to be improving lately. Which is rather strange, considering that I barely practice at home due to lack of time, space, and (I’ll be honest here) motivation. Maybe it has to do with me thinking about kendo all the time? Unless I’m studying or utterly engrossed in blogging/chatting/doodling, my mind keeps going on to the last kendo session and replaying what I did back then. I do make mental notes about where I didn’t do so well and think about what everybody else seems to be doing easily. Like regret, but more constructive.

Or it may be that I just find kendo as something I immensely enjoy doing. It’s like the icing on the cake for good days, and both a wakeup slap and a pick-me-upper for those less than happy days (e.g. boring labs, lack of sleep, essay deadlines...). So I try to give it my all, kiai like I mean it, and let everything off my shoulders for the next 4-5 hours. And I try not to think about anything else during training, which may (or may not) help my attention span. Whatever it is, I’m happy that my strikes are not wild blows, though the presentation leaves much to be desired. That’ll be for another session, hopefully.

Also, I’m putting on my bogu about 1.5 times as fast as I did last week, so it’s giving me more confidence when doing kirikaeshi (my performance last week was a total letdown, hence extra training at home in putting on the bogu). Barely half as quick as the senpai seem to be able to do it, but it's a decent start so far.

So overall, good practice, good fun. Had a little muckaround at the end with some of the boys, though Sensei would probably disapprove of such behaviour. Great fun.

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