Finding a dojo

I remember the pot-bellied ceramic Buddha blissfully contemplating, the dark wooden sign with golden characters above the entrance, the giant black gecko on the wall licking its glistening eyes, and the well-worn lacquered wooden tables and the vague smell of some aromatic smoke. It was the early 1990s in Cape Town, outside was the inner city and in came the sound of traffic. This joint was a window into a vast new world. Out came the food, and I was handed to wooden sticks. My father attempted to show me how to use them, but struggled to do so himself. I used them like tongs, broken tongs that is. This was probably my first encounter with Asia, with a new culture from far far away, and I was fascinated - drawn to the strange flavors and the exotic aesthetic. This was my first taste of Asia. Left with a desire to explore Asia and to experience its cultures, this feeling has remained with me ever since.

Another childhood encounter with the East was The Karate Kid (1984) on VHS. For so many people of my generation who find themselves drawn to Asia, this film played a pivotal role in stoking the fires that would temper our passion for the East. No matter how cliché references to Mr Miyagi may seem, he was an important figure in film that exposed me to Asian culture. Asia was a mystery, a place far away, a culture with its own unique wisdom and its own unique paths, a place with exotic food and of course the home of martial arts. For me Asia is still this place, even as I look out the window here in Zhongguancun and fail to see the Western Hills through all this humidity and smog. There are days when I sit on a small fold out chair on a dusty pavement having some chuanr (kebabs) surrounded by a few inebriated chaps, when I think back to how this journey started. I know that it was that old Japanese man with the ponytail that guided me here.

Fast forward. I recently watched these films again. It had been a while since I had been to any sort of martial arts classes or done any training. I knew it was missing in my life, and so I used dazhongdianping (popular Chinese app for finding restaurants and places of interest), and quickly saw that the city has loads of dojos. Most teach full contact karate – also called kyokushin. My current sensei told me that in China most people learn karate to fight, instead of some more traditional aspects such as kata. Makes sense. Kyokushin turns your body into steel, and gives you the ability to take a beating as well as hand them out. A hard style for a hard city I guess.

I have huge respect for kyokushin practitioner Judd Reid, an aussie now living in Thailand, who completed the 100 man kumite back in 2011. If ever you want to know of a test that is only for a select few, it is this one. Fighting 100 black belts, one by one, and still standing at the end – then you have what it takes and more. Then you can call yourself a badass. Allowed.

Having always been more drawn to traditional karate, I have decided to learn goju ryu, one of the major Okinawan styles. The style, like the culture of the island it calls home, was shaped by its proximity to China. Higaonna Kanryo, one of Chojun Miyagi’s (founder of goju ryu) teachers, travelled to Fuzhou in 1873 to deepen his knowledge of martial arts and went on to study with various Chinese masters. It is easy to see these southern kung fu roots in goju ryu. Sanchin, the most important kata of goju ryu, was one such import. Sanchin kata is not very Hollywood, yet it is very real. A firm stance, slow purposeful moves, deep breathing and an incredible rigour of body and mind. Stand firm, withstand every blow or shove, keep going. While practicing this kata at home I cannot help but feel this is not just a kata, but an attitude, a spirit, to live your life by.

I looked on amazon.cn, taobao and JD, struggling to get hold of a real karate-gi (uniform). I decided to stop messing around and ordered one from Japan, heavy cotton canvas that will last, and hopefully my determination will too. The suit arrived after two weeks, and as expected it was great quality and a perfect fit. This is my new skin, my robes for this journey into karate, a path I had almost forgotten. Bring it on.

For me putting on the white karate gi is almost a spiritual practice. The suit to me symbolizes an attempt to purify the mind, the heart and to turn my body into steel. At this point my aim is no longer to be the best, to win any competitions or even to perform in front of anyone. My aim is to train my being, on all levels, to challenge myself daily and to grow. I want to develop and never stop moving forward no matter what obstacles I encounter. This is my 100 man kumite, and I may be knocked down but I will always keep standing up again.

A pot-bellied colleague walks past me, my screen is covered in characters no longer exotic, the company’s core values hang on the wall, as I sit here at my desk working on another editing job. My reasons for being in Asia have not changed fundamentally. I remain as curious as back in that restaurant in Cape Town, I still feel as drawn to the culture if not more so. Since the recent government meetings here in Beijing the urban landscape seems filled with the official slogan 不忘初心/bu wang chu xin (never forget why you started), and I plan to do just that.