While I was working as a lecturer in a Chinese university, basketball was incredibly popular amongst the students. Many of us foreigners assumed that this was due to the success of Yao Ming in the US. However, I’ve just found a piece of archive film that shows basketball was popular even in 1937… and at the end, are they skating on Houhai?
More interesting to readers here will be the first couple of minutes, in which we are earnestly told that “traditional sports still hold some interest“. All I’m going to say is… what on earth is that guy using??? Watch, and you’ll see what I mean.
This is my friend Winser Zhao, performing an 83-movement Chen-style taijiquan set. I’m told it’s a fairly rare variant of the Chen style. Winser’s a great bloke, really into traditional Chinese culture. He teaches taijiquan, traditional calligraphy, and Mandarin. He also runs China Travel 2.0: if anyone is travelling to China, drop him a line – he organises cheap travel, local experiences, that sort of thing.
Going back a couple of years, I posted about trailers I’d seen for a documentary called Amongst White Clouds. It tied up with the books I’d been reading then by Red Pine, about Chinese hermits. Coincidentally, I’ve been re-reading his books recently, just as one of my old MBA fellow-students posted a link on Facebook to this site. Amongst White Clouds has been put online in segments. I haven’t had time to watch it yet, but hopefully I’ll get around to doing so soon. It reminds me of a post on ‘Hollow Men’ that I’ve been meaning to write for at least a year! Anyway, I have no idea what the copyright situation is with these clips, so I’d better hurry to watch them in case they get taken down!
Well, my fingers are healing up, which is good; the dressing was getting a bit stinky, so I took it off and replaced it with normal sticking plasters, which seem to be just as effective. My Chinese students have been very concerned, and offering health advice, which I find very touching. Hurrah for Confucian values! I’m reminded again about the aspect of China that I’ve always loved – especially as none of my colleagues have felt the need to ask what happened… Meh. Frankly, I’m finding UK culture a major anticlimax. I keep telling myself that there must be more to it, but it’s well-hidden if that’s the case.
Still, don’t get me started on that, or I’ll never find time to talk about anything else!
S. is coming to the UK! That’s something to be excited about. She’ll be in London on business in a few weeks, so I’ve booked some leave to go up to the Smoke, and we’ll chill out and catch up. Got to get in shape before then to look my best (I haven’t exercised for a couple of weeks and the weight has piled on again. I was about to work out tonight, before some crappy bad luck intervened. Carlos calls me lucky, but I say I’m as lucky as the average man or woman; it’s just that both my good and bad luck are more extreme that other people’s! Anyway, that’s a story that will wait for another time).
I’ll be in London across a weekend so, Jiang, this also might be my chance to pitch up at a systema class there. (I’ll let you know once the details are a bit firmer). Furthermore, I’ve discovered that there’s a woman in Westminster who runs Cossack dance classes; I’ll try to contact her to see if private classes are possible Yay yay yay! Hahahahaha…
There was no taiji/bagua class this week as Eli is in Norway, so nothing to report there.
I made it down to Carmarthen last night for the systema class, which was excellent, as usual. I was so tired that I was yawning all the way through class, but there we are.
Key points… We worked on a lot of exercises that were new to me. One was pairing up; one partner lies flat on the floor, while the other does pressups, fists on the first guy’s body. The partner doing pressups gradually moves around the other’s body, fists on shin, thigh, abdomen, ribcage, shoulder, and so on… A very interesting exercise, especially as my partner weighed around 120kg. Not that it hurt; fair play, he did ‘knee’ pressups so that he didn’t put his full weight on me. Also, I couldn’t stop laughing, which kind of put him off! I can’t explain it; it was kind of a ‘ticklish’ response, ie an interrupted defence response, I suppose.
After a number of exercises, we finished up with punching drills. These were also in pairs, just trying to punch using only the weight of the arm. I thought I would be great at this, since I completely get the concept. Instead, I was pathetic. Basically, I find it really hard to hit someone who’s just standing there, so my punches were constantly going in at the wrong angle and just skimming the surface… No power at all! It’s nothing to be ashamed of, and I don’t think I would have the same problem if I really wanted to hurt someone, but still… It just goes to show that my conscious mind is not completely in control of my actions!
Which leads me to meditation; I’ve managed to sit a few times this week, and went again today to the lunchtime meditation session at work. The regular teacher can’t be there next week, so I’ll kind of be in charge (though not actually leading the meditation, only putting a CD on, but hey! Got to start somewhere!). Anyway, so, I’m out of practice, but having started again I feel once more the ‘thrill’ of good meditation, which encourages me to try harder. I was looking again at Plum Village’s website this week, and I noticed that the upper age limit for joining them is 50; I’m sure that’s changed, as I was certain they said 45 last time I looked. So, that’s still an option! I’ll be moving house again within the month; as I look around at all my things, that will have to be boxed up yet again, I feel like just throwing them in the street. Why do we collect so many objects, and invest so much emotional attachment to them? Better by far to do without!
I’ve also be working on my yiquan zhan zhuang, getting back deeper into it, and combining it with vipassana. Not finding it easy, but always reminded at just how great it is for building awareness of the body as a unit. I always feel better afterwards…
I’m making slow progress again with the Shanxi whipstaff form, after a long break. I’ve reviewed what I worked on before, and have learned a couple more moves. Slowly does it, though, and I’m still only getting towards the end of the first quarter of the sequence. It is a really nice form, though.
End-of-the-world stuff: the news today from Bahrain scares the hell out of me (read the whole article). Well, this week, I bought an ‘orchard’ – ie, five saplings of various fruit and nut varieties to plant in my parents’ garden… and I’m looking carefully through the seed catalogues for veg to plant now that spring is coming…
Right then, back to the nominal topics of this blog.
It’s Monday night and I have a long list of things that I should be doing, but frankly I’m too tired. For the first time in ages, instead, I sat for a session of vipassana: not too successfully, I fear – the monkey mind is very strong at the moment! Never mind, keep going…
This weekend there was a change in the air; everyone could taste the Spring coming. Last Thursday morning, I left for work before dawn; before getting into the car, I took a moment to stand silent, listening to the birdsong build up. The air was very still and full of qi; it made me clap my hands and shout HA for the joy of breathing. As I had a bit of a time margin before I needed to be in the office, I stopped the car as I drove over the moorland towards the city limits, and parked on the side of the road. I’ve often meant to do this, but never actually did it. On this occasion, there was a heavy mist, fragrant with the smell of brine from the nearby sea. In the pre-dawn gloom there was nothing of the views that are there on clear days, but the sense of stillness and space was calming. Soon, it’ll be the end of winter; time for me to buy some hill-walking boots!
Since I last blogged about martial arts, Earle Montaigue has passed on. I gave my condolences to Eli, but of course I don’t know him well, and I never had the chance to meet Earle. I’m saddened by that. I suppose the best anecdote I can give is that I bought a copy of his dim mak book in Singapore. When I moved to Beijing, I lent it to a Shaolin-trained martial artist who was studying dian xue of the Yang taiji style; his comment was that “it wasn’t the real thing”… but he never gave it back, despite being asked!
The last couple of weeks have been super-busy at work, combined with more than a little insomnia. I’ve made it to Eli’s classes; bagua followed by taiji. I’m really getting into this. It’s great to study the two together, which is something I’ve never done before, and I’m really getting my bagua vibe back! Plus it is just great to finally have an English-speaking teacher. I’m getting very excited about neijia again
On the other hand, I’ve missed the last two systema classes; I’ve been too tired, and basically didn’t trust myself to drive there and back without falling asleep at the wheel (oh, and I needed to work late at the office…). I should be able to make it this week though. There’s also an all-day seminar coming up at the end of this month; I plan to go to that, so I’ll finally get to meet Mark in person!
As for the title of this post… Having had a great time in the last class with Eli, I asked him whether he’d ever seen wulin zhi. It turns out that he hasn’t, so I’ll lend him my copy when I go tomorrow. That has motivated me to watch it again myself; it’s playing as I type (the famous scene with the pole circle is on right now!). As always, I love it – and yet, I feel saddened.
Those of you who know me IRL know why I left Asia, and I still think I did the right thing. And yet… and yet… I keep on being reminded why I originally quit Wales, and why I didn’t think I would return – until suddenly I had to. Hardly anyone has asked me what my life was like in Singapore and China; what I valued, and what I did with my time, or who I knew and why I valued them. It seems to be assumed that it was just a phase, and now I’ve returned to ‘normal’ life.
Not so, though. As I sit here watching wulin zhi, I’m reminded of how much I have internalized the values of wu de. To quote from that link, wu de stands for:
Ren: benvolence and mutual love
Yi: righteousness, justice, judging with the heart, having friendly feelings
Li: respect, rules of conduct, politeness
Zhi: knowledge, reason, education and learing
Xin: trust, sincerity and openness, to truly believe in something, and also to keep one’s promises, be stable and engaged in things
Yong: courage and braveness
I think of some of my teachers, especially of the older generation: Yao Cheng Rong, Zhou Yue Wen, Sun Ru Xian… These are men; men to be admired, men to be respected, men to be emulated. It’s important to me that though I never approached anything like their level, I was at least taken seriously. I find none to match them here; indeed, even today, I found some of the values that they and I hold were mocked by a colleague. Don’t get me wrong; there are other values. In my home town, I more and more feel a part of the community; it’s no small thing to be greeted from all directions by people old and young, from all walks of life, when you walk into a pub. But, and but… when the darkness falls here, Asia calls me.
I won’t be getting on a plane anytime soon, unless it’s for a holiday. Nevertheless, it’s a good thing to be reminded of wu de, and that the values of the jianghu, the values of wulin are more virtuous, and more admirable, than those of the little people I sometimes have to deal with here.
Let’s start with a short anecdote about synchronicity. The other day I went to the Yashow Market on Gongti Beilu. This used to be one of the main places for selling fake designer clothing, although the lawyers have pretty much shut that down; these days, its focus is on cheap clothes, silks, and tailoring. I was there for the latter. I spent some time going around the various tailors, looking for materials and good prices. Eventually I found somewhere I was happy with, and started negotiating a price for a package of suits and jackets. I got offered a price that I actually thought was pretty reasonable – and yet, there’s always the suspicion that as a foreigner you’re paying over the odds. I found myself wishing that I’d brought a Chinese friend along; in fact, I was thinking of a friend and ex-colleague who now lives in Singapore, but who was always a great fixer and excellent at getting the best price.
Imagine my surprise when, as I stood there mulling over the price on offer, that same friend walked into the tailor shop! I didn’t know she was coming back to Beijing for a couple of weeks; she thought I had already left (when we last spoke, I was planning to leave mid-September on the Trans-Siberian railway, but my illness and reports of radioactive smoke changed all that). She had come to buy shirts for her husband, and apparently has used this tailor for years, though I never knew that. But what are the odds of her walking into that tailor’s, just at the moment that I was wishing she was there? (The price I’d been given turned out to be a pretty good one, although she advised me to press for a couple of shirts to be thrown in as well).
Heh. Well, on to other matters. I was cycling home last night, approaching a T-junction, where I needed to make a right turn (we drive on the right in China, if you don’t know). As I approached the corner, a car came around it – not just on my side of the road, but actually in the cycle lane. There wasn’t enough space left to swing out around it, and my brakes are fairly soft (even though it’s a brand new bike, long story). This is it, I thought, this bastard’s going to hit me straight on. I was saved because the driver stopped abruptly; not to avoid hitting me – I don’t think he’d even noticed me – but because he was parking. (Beijing drivers consider “cycle lane” to be a synonym for “free parking”). This left me enough space to get around him, though even so I scraped along the side of the car. Of course, I was terrified, which rapidly turned to anger. This morning when I woke up, I was still furious, and even now I still have a tension in my chest and jaw. I mention this because it demonstrates vividly the principle I learned from the meditation retreats I’ve been on – strong emotions have physical symptoms; these symptoms are stored in the body even after the conscious mind has moved on. They accumulate, and influence our future behaviour unconsciously. Meditation can clear them out, though… I do need to get a meditation routine settled after I get back to Wales…
Autumn is arriving in Beijing, and the last few days have brought cool weather and rain. The latter seems to have made the pedestrians even less aware of their surroundings.. I was cycling up to the university and on one trip two separate people stepped out into the cycle lane right in front of me, without looking first. Because of the weather I was wearing a rain cape, which completely muffles my bell. Instead, I had to shout, a wordless ‘hoy’ of warning. For whatever reason, these were perfect, coming directly from the dantian, and setting the whole ribcage vibrating. On both occasions, the pedestrian stopped dead, and a collision was avoided. What I found interesting was the difference between the kiai and the bell. I think I’ve mentioned previously that because this situation happens so often, I bought a very loud bell. When I ring it to alert a pedestrian that they’ve just walked in front of a fast-moving bicycle, it clearly focuses their attention; they look around rapidly and step back out of the way. The kiai, in contrast, seems to stun them – both of the guys who stepped in front of my simply froze; their eyes went out of focus, and they didn’t turn their heads as I went around them. There must be a reason for this, but I don’t know it.
(I realize that this is a lot of bicycle stories for one post! In case you are wondering, it’s not just me – I’ve compared notes with a lot of other cyclists, and each of us has a fund of horror stories about cars and pedestrians….)
Because of the weather, I wore my cowboy boots for the first time since the spring. I’ve been wearing Vibram Five Fingers shoes pretty much exclusively all summer, and I’ve gotten very used to that ‘natural’ walking posture. Putting on the boots, I really had difficulty adapting back to the posture needed to walk with heels. It’s the same when I wear ‘normal’ trainers as well. I feel really unstable and off-balance. It’s very disconcerting, and makes me conscious of how un-natural everyday shoes are….
The cold turned into a really nasty infection of chest and ears, and laid me up in bed for week… and kept me at half-speed for another week… and even now, after three weeks and two courses of antibiotics, I still have a dry cough and persistent ‘elevator ear’ with occasional stabbing pains. I’ve now been put on a TCM course that involves some liquorice-flavoured potion, and pills that smell just like black mould. Yuk!
As a result, I haven’t been to training at all; Yao Lao Shi probably thinks I’ve already left China. I’ll try to get there this weekend for a couple of sessions.
Other than that, well, I’m down to the last things. I’m still sorting out things at work so that my leaving doesn’t leave them high and dry. Most of my things have shipped. Sadly, I can’t take curved swords back, so I’ve had to find a temporary home for my sabres and shashkas. Once I get to Wales, I need to join a martial arts club that has insurance – after which, I CAN bring them in…
What else… the usual leaving-China kind of activities: going to the Yashow market to get suits made, buying gifts, apartment-clearing, etc etc. I’ve cycled along Chang’ An Avenue a few times recently, past the Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square… beautiful… it’s driven it home that it’ll be a wrench to leave – there’s not much like that in Wales! In fact, I’m going to have to watch out for that; it’ll be a major culture shock to move from Beijing (an imperial city for a thousand years) and Singapore (cosmopolitan, multi-ethnic entrepot port) to a small, rain-drenched peninsula on the far end of Europe… Looking back, though, I won’t regret anything.
In fact, I’m ready to leave. The time is right, I think. I’ve been told it by fortune-tellers, and it also feels right in my gut. Big change is coming, I am convinced. WIth the IMF warning of mass unrest, peak oil/water/food all threatening, trade wars on the horizon…. it’s time to get back to my phyles and learning green wizardry… (I’m thinking of training in blacksmithing – and maybe swordsmithing – in my spare time once I get back….)
As for martial arts, that’s going to be interesting. I’ve been thinking about this a lot over the past few weeks, and especially about a really interesting conversation I had with Pern Yiau while I was in Singapore.
I’ll have to write about this more after I’m back and settled. I’ve been looking for something, and not quite found it; this isn’t surprising, since both I and the world have changed a great deal over the last eight years, and inevitably, that’s affected what’s ‘right’ for me.
In brief, I’ve had this lingering feeling that there must be something out there that boosts the full range of human potential – that develops health, and creativity, and fighting ability, and mental development, and community… Pretty ambitious, eh?
Thing is though, I keep coming back to look at systema… I’ve mentioned before that the first time I ever saw it, a YouTube clip of Vladimir Vasiliev, I immediately thought “Wow, that’s what I’ve always been looking for” – the movements, wave energy, group work… yeah, I want that. The breathing exercises, and mental/philosophical approach? Yeah… There’s the link with Cossack dancing, shown in the “Go Warrior” clips on YouTube, likewise the Siberian Cossack clips that show how it can be integrated with community dance and singing… There’s the clear overlap with theatre and the improvisation exercises of Stanislavski and Chekhov… There’s a range of human experience involved here that I really don’t see in other martial arts – by which I don’t mean in any way to denigrate any other art, but *this* really seems to tick the boxes of everything I’m looking for. In Wales, I can train systema – and thank you, Jiang, for the link to your school in London; I see that they run Saturday classes, and I can get there easily by train… so see you there? Plus, as Carlos mentioned, it’s cheap to fly to Moscow from the UK… All of this very much softens the leaving of Asia.
(I’ve found a lot of good material about systema on this Ukrainian site; some of the FAQs about the theory and philosophy of systema make a whole lot of sense).
Eight days from now, I’ll be back on Welsh soil. I already have a car sorted out. I’ve narrowed down my search for somewhere to live to three houses in a village by the sea. The wheel has turned full circle, and a new cycle begins…
A few weekends ago, before I went travelling, I went to Ditan Park to catch up with people from Small Steps Neijia. While I was trying to find them, I discovered that there was a big shuaijiao competition taking place. It was very cool – lots of old guys sitting in chairs and commenting knowledgeably on events, lots of keen youths waiting to compete, and a large crowd of fascinated observers! Unfortunately, I didn’t have the time to stay and watch for long, but here’s a short clip of what I saw. One of the nice things about Beijing is randomly stumbling across this kind of thing!
(I haven’t exercised for a couple of weeks and the weight has piled on again. I was about to work out tonight, before some crappy bad luck intervened. Carlos calls me lucky, but I say I’m as lucky as the average man or woman; it’s just that both my good and bad luck are more extreme that other people’s! Anyway, that’s a story that will wait for another time). 