Slowly learning

Last night I resumed classes with Master Zhou. To be honest, I really wasn’t in the mood; I’d had a gruelling week at work, and my energy levels were really low. Black clouds were hanging low, and I half-wished for the rain to come so I couldn’t train.

What a pity it would have been if my wish had been granted! It turned out to be one of the best training sessions yet. Perhaps it was because I was so mentally tired, and so unable to over-analyse what I was trying to do, but I actually seemed to make quite a lot of progress on getting the movements of the single palm change. There’s no doubt that the way ahead here will involve lots of painful practice; the change ends by sinking into a low twisting squat, with the weight on the back foot – but the heel of the back foot is raised off the ground. The muscles and tendons that bear the weight in the stance are pretty weak in my case; my balance needs some work as well. Still, I was pretty pleased with the progress I’m making, small and slow though it is.

Hehehe, speaking of practice, Master Zhou mentioned that when he was learning, he spent years of training martial arts all day, eating, and going to sleep; years of the same thing. It sounds very similar to how my friend Xiaoyan describes his 20 years of training at the Shaolin Temple! (I met Xiaoyan again in Beijing, by the way; I must write about that some other time).

On the topic of Shaolin, I was using too much force when I performed the strike at the end of the palm change; Master Zhou kept on picking upon that, saying no, that’s not the neijia way – be soft, don’t use overt force… and then proceeded to demonstrate how completely devastating the neijia way can be. Wow, he really knows how to apply bagua! Oh, and as another aside, the big bruise that developed on my arm after our previous session took two weeks to vanish. It went a striking black and yellow not long after I went to Beijing, started fading to purple and yellow, made a sudden comeback in bright red, and then gradually faded…. and that was when he was just doing a light demonstration…

Some insights:

• when turning during the palm change, the arms are in contact. The upper arm gently presses down ; the lower arm gently presses up, so that as the body rotates, the arms are grinding against each other. Is this why I often see this position called “grinding palms”? (I’ve never found the explanation that it’s because “it’s as if pushing a millstone” explanation to be very convincing).
• circle walking: I’ve usually been told that the inner foot moves forward in a straight line, and the outer foot turns inward in kou bu to drive the turning motion. Master Zhou says that this works for the “demonstration” forms of bagua, which use long steps, but is no good for application; in the form I’m learning, the steps are small, and both feet step in kou bu.
• An explanation for mud stepping! I’ve wondered about this before. Master Zhou’s explanation is simple – it stops too much pressure being put on the knees during practice from the stepping and turning…. (Of course, I need to put a very clear disclaimer here – Master Zhou and I have very little language in common and so I very possibly misunderstood him; even if I understood him properly, it’s very likely he wasn’t telling me everything! That goes for absolutely everything I write here about my training with him, too!)

Training with Master Liu

I was lucky to get a couple of hours of training with Master Liu Jing Ru (interview with Master Liu here) while I was in Beijing. I’d arranged it by email at quite short notice, communicating with his student Kong Cheng, who was incredibly helpful. Kong Cheng was also there during the training session, acting as translator and training partner.

When I first started studying bagua, back in 2004 (I almost wrote way back: so muchhas happened since then!) I bought a few of his VCDs, and studied them intently, but I didn’t know who he was or where he was based, so it was a pleasure to meet him at last! We worked on the applications of the base eight palms, and in a short time we covered a heck of a lot, and cleared up a lot of queries that I had. I really felt it was worthwhile, and if I ever move back to Beijing (which isn’t impossible), I would certainly want to study regularly with him. He has a number of regular foreign students, who were actually practising nearby during my lesson, but I wasn’t able to stay and watch after we’d finished.

I mentioned in an earlier post that I also had hoped to train with Madam Ge’s teacher, Sun Zhijun, but that didn’t work out. Kong Cheng actually offered to take me to meet Master Sun, but my schedule was so full I just didn’t have the time.

Kong Cheng, by the way, is the Assistant-President of the Beijing Wushu Association, and Assistant-President of the Beijing Baguazhang Association, and not a bad person to know if you’re looking for bagua movies…

54. Always feel gratitude

Always feel gratitude in your heart, and give unstintingly of your wealth, physical strength, mental effort, and wisdom.

Master Sheng Yen

Dong Hai Chuan’s grave

At Dong Hai Chuan’s grave

I’m back

Wow, that was a blast – ten really great days in my favourite city on earth. I took my iBook, but WordPress is blocked by China’s Great Firewall, so I couldn’t post or deal with comments. Lots happened; I met some great people and had some fun experiences. Some writeups and pictures will appear in due course. Now I just have to cope with returning to the mundane world…

53. Offer your service with a heart of gratitude

Offer your service with a heart of gratitude, as if repaying a kindness, then you won’t feel weary or tired.

Master Sheng Yen

Roundup

Drunken Sword again this evening. I spent a fair bit of time practicing my hands-free forward rolls. These are meant to be done with the right hand, holding the sabre, tucked under the left armpit; left hand up next to the right shoulder. My sabre is inflexible, and I’m always rather worried that if I get the roll wrong I’ll impale myself, so I’m not holding it when I roll at this point… I’ll probably get one of the ‘bendy’ swords after I get back from Beijing, It just feels wrong at this point to go into a forward roll without using my hands at all; I’m still very nervous. We’re practicing on the earth, which is sandy-to-gravel and takes off skin every time, but it’s better than the concrete… I think I’ll have bruises on my back from some heavy landings, though…

My teacher has been telling more stories of the long-bearded wandering monk he studied with, who came from the Northern Shaolin tradition. We – as in, my fellow-student Jono and I – queried whether it was this monk who also taught my teacher baguazhang, and it was… There’s more to be learned here, I think. We got diverted for a while into discussing the bagua form, and looking at its combat applications (which I was perfectly happy to do!) before our teacher said enough, back to the drunken form… This is just getting cooler and cooler…

Speaking of bruises, I have a big, black, bruise on my arm from where Master Zhou hit me on Friday night; he was demonstrating the difference between the punches of northern styles, and southern styles… These lessons are fascinating, but I have a nagging element of worry – like I mentioned after the first lesson, we can’t really communicate: he has no English, and my Mandarin is nowhere near adequate for this. As I said before, I’ve grown accustomed to this with my other teachers, but it’ seems to be a new experience for him, and I think he’s finding it hard going. To be fair, he really does want to teach, and to explain everything he knows, and it must be incredibly frustrating to have a student who just can’t understand what you’re trying to say.

I fly to Beijing on Thursday. I’m really, really, excited; it’s been a year and a bit since I came back from there to Singapore, and I just can’t wait to get back to meet my friends and revisit my old haunts. I’m trying to get a few baguazhang lessons arranged with Master Sun Zhijun and Master Liu Jingrun… not sure if this will work out, but it will be very cool if it does!

Madam Ge has just got back from Beijing, so we had class last night. I’d asked her to bring back more copies of Pride’s Deadly Fury if she could,and she came up with the goods: three copies, on DVD this time (previously I got a VCD version). I watched one today, very cool film One I want for myself; another for a gift; perhaps I’ll sell the third on eBay!

Volunteer(ed?)

Hehehe completely by chance, I see that Mushin has put me forward as a possible speaker for a SGWutan get-together! Sure, no problem, guys, it could be a good opportunity to finally put some faces to names 

How… peculiar…

Over the past year, I’ve gotten to know quite a few of the teachers and ordinary members of Chin Woo, and I’ve found them to be incredibly friendly and welcoming – really, really nice people.

Unfortunately, I can’t say the same of some of the people who don’t practice but hang around in the headquarters, who have consistently been the exact opposite. I didn’t blog about it at the time, but I had an unpleasant encounter with them a few weeks ago. I went along after their training had ended to meet friends who had gone back to the Association to get changed. When they came out, we chatted for a while and left. Later that evening I realized I had left my cap behind; it was a Tsinghua University cap which obviously can’t be replaced in Singapore, and which I’m quite attached to. Over the next few days, I went back a couple of times to try to get it back, and was met with an active lack of interest from the caretaker there who simply refused to help, and tried to even ignore my presence. He certainly wasn’t going to give me my cap back, even though it was in plain sight and I was clearly saying “that’s my hat, can I have it back?” in English, Mandarin, and gestures. The manager there was also rude when I tried to explain to him. In the end, I did get my cap back, but with no help whatsoever from either of them.

I mention this to give context to what happened this morning. I wrote a few weeks back that I planned to join the Association, as I’ve been encouraged to do many times over the last year by ordinary members. I asked one member to check out the prices for me. I was told that for foreigners it’s S$300/year; for Singaporeans and Permanent Residents it’s S$15/year, with a minimum of 3 years, so S$45. I’m a PR, so I would fall into the latter camp. I need to emphasize that the person who provided this information is a senior member of many years’ standing, who knew who the enquiry was for and what my status is, and who is unlikely to have got this wrong. That was two weeks ago.

Today, I popped in to finally join. In the office was the same manager who was rude to me before. I explained that I wanted to join, and was told $300. When I mentioned that I’m a PR, I was told, still $300. I pointed out I’d been told that PRs paid the same price as Singaporeans, and he said that the committee had passed a resolution that PRs should pay the same as foreigners. If that’s the case, it’s happened in the last two weeks. I wonder what the motivation for that was. Anyhow, I said that it’s a big difference, and maybe I wouldn’t join right now, he just gave a dismissive wave, and said “That’s your choice, I leave it to you, lah”.

So I didn’t join. I could afford it, even though it’s a big difference, but to be honest I just don’t feel like it any more. Why pay to join something when you’re not welcome? It doesn’t affect my lessons with Master Zhou at all, as those are on a private basis. I just feel it’s a real pity, as the ordinary members are such nice people, and Chin Woo has such an illustrious history it would be nice to be a small part of it. Well, never mind.