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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.
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?).
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!
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.
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.
- 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.
[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!
3 comments:
Excellent overview of the camp! ^^ ~ glad to see you enoyed it and took so much out of it~~~
I feel we should put the "'Devil's Own' Keiko" into regular training someday.
Looking forward to your future rambles XD
R.Huang
Hi Omar,
Nice work (but really loooooong!). :)
Would you mind providing me a Word (or Text) file that I can foward it to our club's blog:
http://wkc-news.blogspot.com/
Thanks, Sam
Dear Omar,
I read most of your writings, I am so impressed. You did very good note taking. I am so proud of to have you in our Dojo.
Thank you very much to all your hard work and ...
Marleen ^-^
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