Another
evening spent in the enjoyable, if somewhat controversial, company of martial
arts practitioners at the local Jeet Kun Do School. For this particular group
of Wushu experts, the training itself is often interrupted by long interludes
of sipping tea from tiny cups seated around the heavy wooden trunk alluded to
last week. The conversation is mostly related to technique, exactly how to
inflict the most damage possible with a given punch or kick, or everyday life
in China. As such, it is a source for much material for this blog, although the
conversations can get a tad surrealistic at times.
The
Chinese seem to love a fight. So much of the culture here is related to, or
directly involves, martial arts. In matters on the macro scale, the Chinese
military have not shown themselves to be particular competent in any area,
their greatest victories coming when they are fighting each other, as in the
Chinese Revolution. The modern day People’s Liberation Army seem to be in the
business of liberating people in much the same way as the Americans liberated
Iraq in 2003 or the Russians liberated Poland in 1940. Their most notable
victory in the last fifty years came when they briefly entered Vietnam in 1979
whilst the main Vietnamese forces were away in Cambodia. When these threatened
to return, the PLA quickly changed strategy and advanced in a generally
backward direction to the safety of China. For all their historical limitations
militarily, on the smaller scale, as in hand-to-hand combat, the Chinese fighting
man represents a formidable foe.
The attitudes contained within the Wushu
(martial arts) lifestyle are, in a sense, almost a national metaphor. The ways
to success are often seen in militaristic, martial or very directly competitive
terms within this society. Far from being a particularly co-operative or
socialist society, the underlying culture is one of constant struggle against others
who are seen in terms of being fellow competitors.
Even
a short trip down a metropolitan Chinese road will aptly demonstrate this
point. Co-operation is the very last notion to cross the mind of the average
driver here. It is very much dog-eat-dog and too bad if you cannot keep up. An
interesting statistic will serve to illustrate this point. A person in charge
of a motor vehicle in China has, per capita, something like eight times the
likelihood of becoming a fatality on these roads as on the roads in the US
(which, in itself, is hardly the least competitive society on the planet). Of
course, there are many other factors involved in that statistic, but the vast
majority of the accidents here are down to ‘driver error’, a pleasant enough
euphemism for ‘driving like a lunatic’.
During
this current stay in China, I have had many fascinating interaction with some
very interesting, and even occasionally charismatic, martial arts
practitioners, from those practicing the gentler skills of tai chi to the
representatives of the local school whose skills are far more practical in
nature. Personally, I am getting a tad long in the tooth (and carrying a few
too many injuries) to train too seriously with these folk, but I have enjoyed
learning to use nunchucks, a strangely fascinating and absorbing activity the
learning of which requires a great deal of concentration, perseverance and the
willingness to take the odd bruise here and there as the fast flailing handles
forever shoot-off in random directions each time I lose control of a sequence.
The
sheer variety of skills and techniques studied and employed here in China is enough
to boggle the mind of the Western observer. In my short time here, I have
seen people training with swords, short-swords, long-swords, cutlasses,
daggers, spears, both short and long, staffs, sticks, nunchucks, flails and
fans and observed them using various techniques to stab, jab, slash, cut,
skewer, pin, impale, flail, smash and generally do untold amounts of damage to
their opponent. Happily, all the violence I have witnessed using implements has
been of the practice variety, although I have seen several injuries even within
that context (I have my own bruises from the nunchucks to illustrate my point
all too painfully….).
The
more direct weaponless techniques allow for tightly controlled contests to take
place. Last weekend, I witnessed my first ever Taekwondo tournament. Originally
a Korean martial art form, Taekwondo has been happily adopted by the Chinese
who now have hundreds of thousands of active participants in the sport. The
contests are conducted mostly with the use of kicks, scoring kicks being made
to the central anatomy and the head of the opponent who wears thick pads around
his/her ribs and a helmet incorporating some protection for the face and skull.
These protective measures are very necessary as the power of the kicks from a
properly trained practitioner is impressive indeed. When training with these
guys, the sheer weighty thud of a well placed kick into the heavy punch bags is
enough to send a shiver down my spine. One would definitely not want to be in
the way of such an attack, even if wearing protective pads…
The
wushu specialists at the school I attend are fairly liberal and eclectic in
their approach to martial arts – almost any technique is countenanced if it is
likely to have the desired effect. At times, one can watch them practicing
punches, slaps, backhand slaps, elbows – both horizontal and vertical, knees
(usually applied to a particularly vulnerable area..), kicks to the ankles,
legs, stomach and head and even butting for street fights.
Oddly,
each and every one of them seems a relatively gentle, even genteel, soul when
not fighting. We sit around the intricately worked trunk and consume the
tiniest of tiny cups of green tea. The cup is forever replenished as long as
you drink it. The host, whoever that is on any particular evening, has the duty
of ensuring that your cup is never empty. Each cup is but a couple of sips, but
the teas are often delicious, each practitioner taking it in turn to supply his
own particular tea. Each of these gentlemen has enough knowledge of martial
arts techniques to do considerable damage if they so desire, but each seems to
be the perfect gentlemen in such surroundings. It is my good fortune to have
met and learnt so much from these gentlemen whilst in China.
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