First Year in Japan: END. Homeless Fighting

I had recovered from my Mt. Fuji shenanigans over Spring Break and settled into Summer life. The Kyokushin crew was going out to celebrate Mori's birthday. We all went out and had dinner... and Mori ate something bad and fell ill. Some of the group split off to take him back home in a cab ( he was that bad), and then we continued partying. We all slept at Inoue's apartment. One of the Kyokushin guys kept saying "wow. look at Nash. In an apartment. Seems so weird. He's not wearing a Karate gi, he's just there, not breaking anything in half or training or fighting or eating anything. Never seen him like that. Weird." It was hot, so then we all borrowed shorts from Inoue to hang out in... except my thighs where many sizes too big. He dug around and tossed me something. "It's the only thing big enough for your thighs, and it's clean."
Pants to a Karate Gi...
The guy from before said "Ha!, I knew it, even at a party, he's wearing a Karate gi. Seems better now. Everything is natural now."


The following week was the All Kanto Kyokushin Tournament. A few of my friends where fighting so I went to cheer them on. They did well, and there was a party afterwards. Of course. Mori and I discussed inappropriate topics in between bouts of martial art conversation. He went to go introduce someone important to me. I said Hello, my name is Nash. " 'The assassin from America', I know who you are. I read Mori's blog." Then Mori proceeded to brag on me, about my extreme ascetic shugyo training and techniques and whatnot, but I reassured the man that Mori was just being polite.


At the following weekend's Saturday competition class I got to show off just how impressive I was, by getting my face cut open from some nice hard fighting. I missed blocking a move and took a question mark kick to the face. My right cheek was then slit open by the guy's toenail. After the match the teacher said "Nash... you're bleeding." Ridiculous, of course I'm not. I looked in the mirror, and the person looking back at me looked like he had been shot. Guess I was bleeding... I put a bandage on it.
That day after training was another nomikai(drinking party). It was nonstop fighting and parties it seemed. Everyone had a great time, but somewhere during the night the conversation shifted to me. "Man, Nash. You're so strong." said one of the teachers. "when you uppercut someone, we always expect to see something blow out of the person's back." Another teacher added "you know, when someone misses a move and gets hit in a fight, they usually look stupid, but for some reason it made you look cool." I guess if your going to get messed up in a fight you may as well come out looking cool. One person commented on the same situation "man, that looks like a long deep cut... are you going to need stitches?" No... I have a band aid on it.
For some reason everyone thought that was hilarious.  "ha. that's Nash" oh? The teacher from before said " You know, I remember when I saw you first come into the dojo. Right off of the street, with your jacket and bag, rough looking. I thought for sure you had come to do a dojo storm (dojo yaburi) and break our sign! ahahaha"  we all laughed. It's not like it was out of the question for me to do that....
Suzuki said " you know, Nash has a technique that makes his wrist unbendable". I corrected him and said it just made it VERY difficult to bend. Hearing this, someone shouted from the other side of the room "but can he arm-wrestle!?"
Another person then yelled from a different corner of the room "Arm wrestle the Sensei!" I thought that was silly, of course they wouldn't want to.
In the blink of an eye, the table was cleared. Sensei 1 was ready to go. Kyokushin people aren't afraid of a challenge. I wasn't about to back down from the opportunity either. Round 1, Nash. Round 2, Nash. I had beaten the teacher. Next was the strongest looking student. I think Arm wrestling was his hobby. He was maybe 20 years old, and buff. We went at it, and he was easily beaten. I heard a drunken Inoue yell "OOH God! I bet all my table's food on that match! you won... It's all yours." I didn't know there where bets going on, but I won the food, and my table ate like Norse kings.
Then THE sensei wanted to go. I wasn't about to turn him down, I had just crushed everyone else. I was on a roll. We locked hands in the starting position. I could feel the amazing strength none of the others possessed... I thought for sure I would lose; but you never know till you give it your best. "GO!" we went... no movement. we where deadlocked in strength. "I think that we are evenly matched" seems so. "No point in continuing" why? "It's a Tie."
Ties are for father's day! ( a joke that doesn't really translate by the way)
I was going to finish the match one way or the other. I remembered the kyokushin model for training is "technique, power, stamina". I quoted this to him, and said we would see who's stamina would last longest. Deadlock. 1 minute. 2 minutes. I slowly felt his strength drain away. With a kiai I gave it everything I had... and won! (It was just like the time we where out to eat and Mori instigated a headbutting contest. Not participating of course, but convincing all the people interested in that sort of thing that they couldn't beat me. They couldn't by the way, I won that too.) Suzuki asked " what kind of being are you!?" I said Didn't know.... Pass the wasabi please. I then won a wasabi eating contest.
I trounced everyone at the party that night. It seemed I was unstoppable... but I still had a bandage on my cheek from getting cut from a kick, so how unstoppable could I be? If something bleeds, you can stop it. I had to wear that bandage for a few days. I got it off just in time to head to the Summer training camp for Kyokushin.


Gasshuku is a Japanese word that can roughly be translated as "camp" or “training retreat”. It generally consists of everyone in a group or organization taking a trip together for a few days; during this time everyone gets to know each other better, you bond, and the focus is on the activity that the group performs.  For example, there are Gasshuku for baseball, archery, and so on, where you go and bond with your teammates, focusing solely on your activity, like baseball or archery. Most groups in Japan do this, and the Kyokushinkaikan is no exception.
The Kyokushin summer gasshuku was happening, so I went. The destination was the mountain and temple where Oyama Masutatsu performed his shugyo and stayed on the mountain alone for a year. This same spot is also the place where Oyama's grave/shrine is.
From Tokyo it's about a 5 hour bus ride, and that's exactly how we got there. Of course there where hundreds of people, so there was more than one bus. In fact, each dojo took their own. We passed the time by watching videos about kyokushin, giving self introductions, and sleeping.
We finally arrived after 5 hours, and checked into our rooms in the old ryokan(old Japanese inn) we where staying in on the mountain. The pressure difference from the altitude was immediately obvious, as the sealed packages of snacks people brought where exploding.
After lunch the training started. It was hot, and very humid. The first task was to go and clean Oyama's shrine. This included picking up trash, polishing the stone, and weeding the area. After that it was off to what we used as a dojo for technique training. After a few hours, it was time for a break. This meant we where free to enjoy the area on our own for a bit of time. I broke away and went deeper into the woods for some solitary training and exploration.
Dinner time. An amazing dinner of Unagi, one of my favorites. Unagi, an eel served with a sweetened sauce made partially from it's own bones, is said to bestow people with extra power and energy, so it was particularly appropriate for us. When dinner was finished, it was time for more training. Kata training. We all practiced kata for a few hours, and the training for the first day came to a close. One person was having trouble remembering his kata, and I asked if it would be rude to help him out. "Oh, Nash. Me and this guy forgot the rest of this form....could you tell me the next few moves?" his friend said "wait... isn't this guy a white belt?" he responded with "just look at him. Does he look like a white belt to you? This is Nash. He is a kata master. Just look at his hands, they are nothing but muscle and callus." his friend then said " you're right! so... you're not a white belt?" I told him that I was wearing one, so I must be one. Then I assured them I was no master of kata, but I did know the moves they forgot. "Oh wait! THAT'S Nash?! I heard about that guy. Mori told me about him. said he could do some incredible things."
"yeah, you should see him do some things in person!" I told them Mori was just telling stories. They were probably exaggerated at best, and then I showed them the kata they where working on. They seemed to appreciate it.
Everyone then headed to the onsen, or Japanese hot spring bath. It's just the thing after a hard day's training. I recommend it to everyone that can handle the almost scalding heat.
After I returned to my room, my friend looked at me and said "you're so strong, this is all easy for you; it's time to start your REAL training." I looked at him puzzled. "Liquor!" I wasn't in the mood, plus the altitude increased the effects of the alcohol. Many karate masters in Japan and Okinawa say that if you are strong with booze, then you can be strong with Karate, but if you can't handle your drinks, you can't handle your fights. I don't know that that's true, but that's the culture, and I didn't want to be seen as not trying hard. We headed back to the inn's training dojo late that night.
When I got back to the dojo, it had been transformed into a party room. There where many tables, signifying that everyone had been broken up into teams. There was a list indicating which team you had been randomly placed on. The teams then competed in a series of events and challenges for nice kyokushin related prizes. The events included bingo, trivia games, paper-rock-scizzors-hammer-helmet-battle, and any number of fun games. I wasn't any help on music trivia ( it was all Japanese), and the kata trivia was done to a count that's different from my own; but the whole things was still very fun.
It wouldn't be a Kyokushin party if it didn't keep going. After that party, it was time for another party, in a different room. This one was all about drinking. The only game there was was "who can drink a lot". It wasn't so much a game as a challenge. You got locked in a room with everyone, and you were expected to continue to drink until morning. This would be my first true drinking extravaganza. There were a multitude of drinks to choose from, and as long as you were drinking alcohol it didn't matter what you chose. Our resident Italian, Alesandro, brought some lemon flavored drink back from Italy and I decided I would choose that. The drinks flowed fast and hard as the hours wiled on. I wasn't familiar with drinking yet, so I didn't know how to pace myself. I also had no idea how the altitude would effect the alcohol absorption. While everyone else knew this thing was going to go until morning, and were taking sips to compensate, I was taking gulps. Several hours in I started to feel odd, and excused myself to the bathroom. My body was not obeying my commands for graceful movement. Before I knew it I was projectile vomiting everywhere. Inoue found me and asked if I was ok, I tried to explain I was probably fine... I couldn't really get the words out though, because the vomit wouldn't stop, and I couldn't stand. I was likely experiencing a form of high-altitude alcohol poisoning. It was about 3 in the morning now, and we were expected to be up at 4:45 for morning training. A teem of people picked me up and carried me to my room, and put me on my futon with a bucket in case I needed to vomit some more. I passed out holding the bucket.


I woke up at 4:30 in my futon with Mori and I holding each other. We were not wearing any clothes. I said “Hey! Where are my clothes?” “You puked all over them, so we took them off of you and put you to bed.” “Why are you here? You're futon isn't even in this room.” “You looked like you were going to die, so I stayed to keep an eye on you.” ...I asked “where are YOUR clothes?” “It was too hot, I don't sleep with clothes.” Fair enough. I got up and did my morning exercises and joined the normal training. This consisted of special breathing exercises in the early morning mountain air. Afterwords, we went to a special temple that few get to go to, and we sat through a service. We had the sicknesses from out spirits cleansed by the priests there. Next up was breakfast. Very nice, but many people where falling asleep while eating, or where too hungover to be interested. When breakfast was done, it was training time for the rest of the day. Once everyone saw me training they were shocked. “oh my god... you look fine!” I feel fine too. “HOW!?” I literally don't know, that was my first time doing something like that. I felt like death, went to bed, and now I feel fine. “You don't have a hangover?” nope. I was self conscious about having puked everywhere though. An event they never let me live down. The seal had been broken. I was now fully a hard partying Kyokushin man, and there was no going back. I never was able to drink a lemon alcohol again though. By the time we left the training camp we where all thoroughly exhausted, but much closer to each other for it. Everyone was unconscious on the bus ride back to Tokyo. Back to Tokyo meant back to school.


The school was hosting a speech contest for foreigners. Each class would choose their representative speaker, and then they would give a speech in the contest, in Japanese, while the rest of the class cheered them on. I had no intention of entering the contest, but the class required that you wright a speech to enter for a grade. Of course, the best speech would be chosen to compete, so I came up with a plan.

If I wrote a speech that was good enough for a grade, but all around terrible and unflattering, I wouldn't get picked to enter the contest. So, content in my genius plan, I wrote a speech that I was sure they didn't want to hear. I had just spent almost an entire year writing papers about how the Japanese people in Tokyo were letting down their ancestral stereotypes of honor and focus, so it shouldn't have come as a shock that I wrote about how people my age and younger in the city were ruining everything. I felt so smart... until I heard my classmates' speeches. Such titles as " I want a boyfriend", and " I like smoking and sleeping". I knew I would get picked for sure.

Sure enough, a couple of days after presenting our speeches, a teacher was waiting outside of class for me.

"Nash"

Yes.

"I have been wanting to talk to you."

...

"The rest of the teachers and I think you should be the representative for the class, and be in the speech contest."

I don't want to.

"Your speech was the best."

It's not very good.

"It's what we want"

what about someone else?

"Your the best public speaker by far."

There’s that one girl.. she was good...

And back and forth we went, until it was decided. I would be the representative for the class. That's basically what every discussion with your superiors is like in Japan. You just wind up doing the original thing they suggested regardless of how much better a different plan may be. Most of the time anyway. Not what I had in mind. In fact, the opposite. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise though, as I found out the rest of the class had to make a dance/cheer lasting one minute to cheer the speaker on. I would much rather speak and be the center of the happenings than be involved in that sort of thing. I didn't want a dance cheer for my speech, but that wasn't my choice either. The rest of the class had to design it.

The teacher asked the class "what sort of things does Nash like? what are some Nash-like things?" I imagine it was a tough question, since it was a new quarter, and none of my new classmates knew me... or so I thought. Someone yelled "Fighting". "OK, what else?" "...walking?..." "break dancing" Break dancing? I had made no indication that I liked break dancing, but as it turned out, I do like break dancing. Lucky guess. Anyone who knows me, knows that. I guess they just assumed everyone likes break dancing? The teacher then said " We need music for whatever we are going to do. What is some music that makes you think of Nash? Nash, what do you want?" I don't care... "OK, people start shouting out music." "Theme from rocky!" "Theme from Top Gun!" "highway to the danger zone?" "yeah!" 80's music? I didn't say I liked that stuff... but I do. Am I that easy to read? "Everybody was kung fu fighting!" NO! "ok.. Nash has vetoed that song..." The teacher said the students needed to think of something to do during their cheer. One guy suggested "let's get a big stack of something and have Nash chop it in half!" The teacher said "Nash isn't allowed to be in his own cheer, can anyone else chop a stack of something?" The room fell quite. The same guy then said "ok, so we get some fire..." "NO FIRE!" the teacher said, cutting him off. A girl asked "what should we wear?" The teacher, being a girl herself, was interested in this question as well. Another girl shouted "Jeans and white T-Shirts!" The teacher really liked this idea, enthusiastically adding "yeah! and the girls should wear really short jean skirts, and have their T-shirts tight, and cut really low. That will be a good representation for Nash." The girls in the class liked the idea.

A good representation for Nash!? What the hell? What image is floating in their heads of me? One that requires skimpy cloths, fighting, chopping things in half, fire, and early 80's music? It's like their image of me is any character that Sonny Chiba played in the 70's or 80's! The craziest thing though, is that it was dead on. What a wake up call!...I wondered “am I a stereotype of some kind?”


That was all I knew of the Cheer until the day of the contest. The contest came, and I was called to the podium to deliver my speech. Before I could speak, my class needed to do their cheer. Highway to the danger zone blared across the auditorium. My class ran out on stage and formed a semi-circle wearing jeans and white T-shirts. They then took a “horse riding” karate stance and threw punches in unison shouting "Na-Sh Na-Sh" to the rhythm of their fists. They then each lifted a large card with a letter written on each one. The message spelled out "Nash, do your best!". One of my classmates and now good friend and dorm mate, Chris, then jumped in the middle of the circle and began to break dance. While he was break dancing, my classmates where doing the wave with their message cards. Chris then paused for a second to put on a hachimaki (headband). Written across it was " Strongest in Japan". He then break danced harder then ever, while the other class mates flipped their cards over to reveal a new message. My speech’s title. "It's best to be aware of your own surroundings." Their cheer ended; now it was my turn. That was one hell of a Nash Cheer. I think they may have actually hit all the bullet points! That was one hell of an entrance for what was set to be such a downer speech.

My speech was written specifically so I would not get chosen, but I did. So I'd imagine it wasn't the greatest to hear. It was topical then, with a murderer recently having killed a bunch of people in Akihabara, but it seems with every passing moment the message of the speech becomes even more applicable. The message was basically “trust no one, rely only on yourself, never let anyone beat you.. become a number one man!”... which might have been the thesis of the Sonny Chiba movie trilogy “The Street Fighter”.... The speech, in literal English, was as follows:

“Everyone, now, the earth is dangerous. Of course, a long time ago the earth was also dangerous, but recently human beings have become weak. You all always walk around using your cell phones and mp3s, so you are not paying attention. If you use your cellphone while walking around, you can't see anything. If you use an mp3 player its difficult to hear the sounds of your environment. Because of this there are injuries. If you are careless, you could die. A world that is only easy and convenient, and reassuring can't be made. The government can't help you. It's best to look after your surroundings on your own. You can't rely on other people. If you always pay attention to your surrounding when you walk, you'll understand. please always think 'Is this place OK? Is it dangerous?' For example, Akihabara. Nobody thought there where murderers there, but there really where. Trust your own feelings, if you get a bad vibe, leave. Rely on your own feelings. Whenever you can, do whatever you can on your own. Everyone, right now the earth is dangerous, but if each person becomes strong, the world will become better. If your body is strong you can't get sick. If you are educated, problems become easy. If you have a strong heart you can protect your dreams and the things that are important to you. From now on, rely on nothing. With every fiber of our being, lets be independent!”

Not the greatest speech, especially to say to Japanese people, in Japan, but it does sound better in Japanese. I didn't win first place in the contest, but I did get 50000 yen, which at the time was about 500$!

Not bad for someone who didn't want to enter. I didn't know it at the time, but I was about to REALLY need that money for when I became homeless, which I also didn't know was coming. Maybe I should have been more aware of my own surroundings?


I was too busy dealing with school and training to really notice anything outside my bubble. New school term, new field trip destination. This one was pretty elaborate. First to the 8 great lakes region around Mt. Fuji, then to Mt. Fuji 5th station, and finally to Fujikyu Highlands- the amusement park near the base of Mt. Fuji. The park features many award winning roller coasters, and at the time I think it had the fastest accelerating coaster in the world. I went on it and was not fazed. It was over too fast, you didn't have time to process what was going on. It was fun to compare the experience of being in the area as a regular fun seeking student versus struggling through a training mission. Not as many theme park rides and ice creams when you are trying not to die.


Meanwhile, my friend Imasaka Yusuke was leaving to study abroad in the United States of America. His plan was to be out of Japan for about 1 year. In the grand Kyokushin tradition, we threw him a farewell party. Kyokushin Style. The day started with a 10 man kumite (fight) for yusuke. He fought hard, and by the end he couldn't really stand. Or breath that well, really. But he had a smile on his face. He thanked us all for the abundant low kicks. No problem buddy. After the fighting it was time for the Japan's favorite traditional pastime. The drinking party. The liquor was plentiful, and I can attest that the food was delicious. There was one kid there, Ryu, who for obvious reasons couldn't have alcohol since he was about 9 years old, but he will be a champion drinker when he grows up. That boy can slam a soda, hard. After everyone was sufficiently intoxicated, they all decided it would be a good idea to find things to stack up and break. Alchohol and Tameshiwari....OSU!
The dojo just happened to have quite a few cases of boards lying around, just asking to be broken. Zenjuro Mori, however drunk he may have been, is not dumb. People wanted to break things, and he had things to break... and those people where drunk. So he decided to sell those boards for 300 yen a piece. Of course, they could have bought them themselves fro about 50 yen a piece, but they didn't care; it was the heat of the moment. People took to drunkenly writing on their boards or drawing funny pictures. The child named Ryu drew pokemon, which was very, very popular with people in Japan between the ages of 4 and 60. Of course, I wouldn't recommend drunken breaking, and injuries weren't entirely absent from the situation. One funny incident involved my friend Inoue trying to ax kick a board. It didn't go as planned. He hurt his heel, fell down, and still didn't break the board. One guy (Habasuta) got so drunk he pooped his pants and then passed out. I even got in on the fun by drunkenly trying an Uechi-Ryu finger tip break. I succeed both in breaking the board and dislocating my middle and ring fingers. I put the middle knuckles back where they went and broke some more boards. Everyone had fun, and it was a nice send off for Yusuke. I promised to come see him if we ever wound up in the same country again at the same time. I didn't know then that I would wind up seeing him in multiple countries all over the world years later. I just told him to focus on his schooling and training, and then we parted ways.


It was always some excuse for a party. There was an all University meet and fight that came up since a new school year was starting. All the university clubs got together, met, fought, and then partied. Shortly after, Mori, left for New York, U.S.A. To fight in the All American Kyokushin Karate tournament. I was invited to go with him, and had planned on it, as the deal was so cheap it wouldn't have dented me financially. My plan while in America would have been to surprise people by visiting without telling them I was coming; however I then discovered I had school finales at the same time! It's always something with school! Usually I would just skip them, but this was a special case, and for many reasons, I was just unable to go to the states. Before Mori left, the dojo secretly made him a big flag to carry into the ring when he fought. We wrote cheers all over it in Japanese, English, and Italian. Everyone wanted me to wright something "cool" in English. So I did what I could. I wrote "Mori Zenjuro" under the Japanese that said the same, which was then under the Japanese for falcon of Josai, and I wrote "The Falcon Strikes!" on the side. I hoped whoever he fought would be able to read it.


A week or so later I walked into the dojo to see Mori sitting on the floor. He looked up at me and said " I lost". I looked at him for a second. Then he said "It's because you weren't there to cheer me on, I was so depressed." I knew he was just messing around, but I really wanted to be there! I had finals! "I know, I'm just giving you a hard time." I asked him how it was. He said he made it to the best 16 but was taken out by a man much larger than himself. A large Brazilian, about 100 kilos landed a spinning back kick to the solar plexus. " Felt like I was being chopped in half".
"got any injuries?" I asked.
"No. Only my pride"
Difficult?
"Different. I don't think I'll go back next year. I hate airplanes anyway"
I know. Was it enjoyable?
"A big party, and good sights to see. Yes. Enjoyable."
How was the English?
"You know I don't speak any English... I didn't really understand anything. I did get in the pamphlet though. I don't entirely understand it."
He presented his camera and showed me all the fun pictures he took, and the tournament pamphlet he had been featured in. I explained to him that they were super complimentary of him in the pamphlet.


As for the finals that got in my way, they weren't a total wash. While trying to viciously cram for my finals I decided I would do laundry at the same time to break up the monotony. I had been cramming for awhile. I hate forced book studies, but I didn't have much of a choice. If I didn't cram I wasn't going to pass, that much was certain. Even with the book Shugyo, there wasn't a guarantee it would work. I was loosing my mind, so I decided I would keep a steady stream of laundry so every 30 minutes or so I would have to turn it over. A moving body can clear a mind in times like that. It was 1 am. And my last load of laundry had just finished. I thought I was just going to get it and go to bed. Once in the basement of the dorm where the machines were, I was stopped by someone in the elevator.  His name was Ryo.  He asked if I ever work on the heavy bag in the dorm. I say yes. He asks what I'm doing. I say getting my laundry.
"I want to watch your karate on the heavy bag".
oh.
"Do you have the time?"
As hard as I tried to dissuade this guy I had never met, he really wanted to see me hit the heavy bag. And so we gravitated that way.
I don't like demonstrating things for people I don't know, or talking about martial arts to most people. I couldn't quite get his motives yet, so I was skeptical. "can you do the mawashi geri?" yes. It's one of the most basic things you can do. "can you show me?" Reluctantly I agreed. He seemed satisfied. Then, he showed me his. Ryo was a Muay Thai fighter. A Japanese born and raised in Thailand. until he was a around the age of 8, then traveled back and forth between Japan and Thailand. He had been learning Muay Thai the whole time, and was well above average. His English was also amazing. He had a genuine interest in my technique, and I in his. We wound up talking and demonstrating various techniques until about 3:30 in the morning. This was great for training, bad for school finals.
Ryo was a great Muay Thai fighter, and his speed was amazing. He then showed me a technique I had never seen before. It's a jumping climbing round house kick. It involves kicking the opponent, and with that kick climbing up the opponent and doing a roundhouse kick with the opposite leg. He taught me the kick, and I was quite pleased with it. It is similar to a hurricane kick, but with only the first half, and less rotation.
"Do you only care about karate?"
What do you mean?
"Do you like other fighting as well?"
yes.
"What about K-1?"
Yeah, I really like K-1. why?
"I think you could really do well in the K-1 Major Leagues. I'm Serious. Think about it..."
I did not have the intention of fighting in the K-1, but it was nice to know I had a fan, just in case. My dorm mate David didn't think I had a shot “I don't think so man. You don't have the ego or the attitude for that kind of entertainment business. It's less about skill and more about drawing a crowd by being as obnoxious as possible.” I figured he was right, but wondered if there was a way to develop some kind of persona like that in case the opportunity arose.


In the meantime, I was moving again. Staying in one place for too long means you accumulate things, which is of course why it is a good idea to keep moving. Which I had not done for something like 6 months. Which meant I had accumulated things. Way too many things. This made moving a pain. Literally. I had all my things literally strapped to my back like a mule. A really big house-moving mule. "You didn't use a moving truck to move!?" asked Suzuki. No. "All by yourself?" Yes. "That's like a 3 hour trip! You must have thought it would be pretty good training, huh?" Honestly, just like most things, I had no idea how far it was, or how heavy my things where, and just wound up drastically underestimating the situation. I winged it.
I moved out of the dorm in Yokohama, and into my own place by Sugamo, next to Ikebukuro on the Yamanote. My apartment was a share house style. At the time they were known derogatorily as "gaijin" houses. A place for foreigners. They are common with all kinds of people now though. You rent your own room in a house, but the kitchen and bath are common area's. For about 65000 yen a month, I got a huge room, with free water and electricity. Great for living in Tokyo. Actually, a good deal for pretty much anywhere. Oh, and a television in my room, and a refrigerator. I didn't watch television, but I did like background noise when I did homework. If I had a computer I could have "Free secure wireless Internet". The room was big enough to break-dance in, I had two huge windows and a balcony since I was upstairs. When I opened both windows it felt like I was outside, but didn't have to worry about rain. However, there were a few things that don't necessarily suit my personality. I like a place in the middle of nowhere, without a lot of people. Not a place in a quite town full of nothing but suspicious senior citizens. In fact, on one street, only going one way, there were THREE nursing homes. To say I stuck out among 1 meter tall, hunchback, 100 year old, bitter Japanese people is an understatement. The other thing, that didn't quite suite me was the company that also lived in the same house as me. I felt that this guy "Mat" I talked to and I got our living arrangements switched. He liked to party. His new place was in a quite place with few people. In a conversation with him, we where exchanging details about our respective places, and I almost killed him with my description.
M: "My place is pretty good, nice and quite"
N: My place is full of angry looking old people...
M: " I love old people"
N: Yeah,... I think we got our places mixed up. There's about 10 people living in my place, but I'm the only guy.
M: "What!? Oh my god!"
N: Yeah, when the landlord was showing me the place, these two teenage Chinese girls who are sharing a room came up to the landlord and said " the door to the bath is broken, it won't close. When we're in the bath, the door just stays open."
M: " Oh My GOD! You're kidding me!"
N: Then we passed the door to the roof, with a sign on it saying no entry. I asked the landlord why, because I wanted to work out on the roof. He said "you know college girls, they where always partying up there, and we where getting complaints from the neighbors, so we had to block it off."
M: "Jeezus man, arggh.... is there anything else I should know?"
N: My place is right next to the all girls highschool...
M: ".... I hate you...."
N: ... Me too...
M: "arrgh, my buddy just called me this morning, and he said the dorm I just moved out of is going co-ed in a couple weeks... this is all hitting me pretty hard..."
N: yeah, well, my place doesn't sound so great to me...


And it really didn't. Everyone else seemed to think it was rad though, Mori. "whaaa! I'm so jealous! Are there Russian girls? Canadians? tell me everything!...that settles it. The next party is at your place!" I said I didn't mind if the Kyokushin guys came over. "I don't care if you're there, I just want to see the girls.” Thanks Zenjuro. He then tried to start a vodka drinking contest between me and tall Italian guy, and I was barely able to conjure an excuse to get out of it.


After my move, Yanagida , the man in charge of the Waseda University Kyokushin Karate home page, came up to me and informed me he had put my "profile" up on the home page. He had been periodically just putting interesting people's profiles up. He didn't interview them, he just gathered whatever interesting facts he could and went from there. This made for some interesting profiles. He included lots of jokes as well, such as peoples "special skills", that make them seem almost useless. For example, I-chan, the girl whose profile was above mine had her special ability listed as being able to identify people by smell...


My profile was just as goofy, since he didn't have much info to go on:
“
Came From : Indiana?
Previous School: ?
Post: Tokyo Josai Shibu (Shinjuku Dojo)
Special Ability: English Conversation
Future Ambition: ?
Favorite Famous Person: ?
Favorite Phrase: ?
Character:
'The man who used to live in America that suddenly appeared in January. He posses a black belt in another school, and has accumulated training of maybe 10 years or more. You can tell by watching his movements and his sparring that he is no beginner. Also, even though it could be the dead of winter, this mighty hero appears with nothing more than one short sleeve white T-shirt and his white bag. Originally just a member of the Shinjuku dojo, under the recommendation of Zenjuro Mori that Nash is "Strong, and a cool guy" he has come to train with the Waseda University Kyokushin club as well. Even though he has only lived in Japan 1 year, his Japanese has really improved. Though he is not a main stage player, Nash functions behind the scenes. A backstage player, he is power in reserve.'”


I'm not sure if much of that is really complimentary. My special skill is English Conversation!? Boooooo.......


The address to the weird profile was:
http://kyokushin_waseda.at.infoseek.co.jp/member5.html
But I'm sure it's gone now.


Since I was on the Waseda homepage, and trained with the Waseda club as well, I was asked to help with functions when possible. I was informed by Inoue that there would be a Kyokushin Karate demo at Waseda University. He asked if I wanted to go. Of course, I wanted to go, but I had school I wouldn't be able to get out of easily, so I couldn't. A couple of days later he told me that it wound up getting canceled, and moved to a couple weeks away. On a day that I had no school. He asked again if I was interested in going. Yes. He seemed happy. A week later he asked if I was still able to go. Yes. Still seemed happy. The very next day he asked me if I would like to go. Yeah, of course I'll go cheer everyone on. I would love to see you guys put on a demo. "Great. We're going to need you to chop a big stack of roofing tiles in half. It'll look great if a foreigner does it." What!? "Practice tomorrow after training".
And so the next day after training we "practiced" for the demonstration. Inoue was kyokushin team captain at Waseda, and so had decided to put on the demo to attract new members. It was his job to construct said demo, of which he hadn't really thought everything out. He knew he wanted me to break a stack of roofing tiles, he wanted to break a concrete block, have Alesandro the really tall Italian guy do something, and have somebody do kata. Mori was at the practice, and was amazed and kind of amused Inoue hadn't thought anything through. Especially since the demonstration was practically the next day.
Mori: "Inoue you should break the tiles and have Nash break the block"
Inoue: "but I really want to break the block"
Mori: "but it looks better if a Japanese person breaks tiles. It's an Asian thing. You're small, so it will look impressive. Nash is bigger, so the audience would be dissapointed if he does anything less than break a concrete block. Besides, you couldn't break it anyway."
Inoue: "..."
Mori: "ok Nash, pretend the block is here, how are you going to break it?"
I walked up. Looked at where it would be, and "broke" it with a pantomime.
Mori: "No no no, man. You can't just break it. It has to be climactic. Build up suspense. Then just before you break it, yell something like "HYLRLRLRLYIIEAA!"
Is that yell going to make it cooler?
Mori: " of course, that yell makes everything cooler."
Got it.
Next we talked about kata. Inoue thought that I should run kata becouse "Nash's kata looks the best".
Mori: "hmm, we should have a girl do kata. Get Ichan to do it, we'll have Nash spar with tall Italian. When you guys spar, go slow and light, but don't block. People like to see people take hits. Don't block, it'll make things more interesting."
Whatever you say.
Inoue: " we should have a couple more people break things."
Mori: " we should use *this technique* and *this technique*. Who can do those things that is going to be in the demo?"
Inoue: " hmm, Nash. He's the only one. That can actually do it. We should have Nash do them."
Mori: "Damn! it's not the Nash Show! we can't have him do everything. Just have him fight and chop a block. We have to even things out. Make the other breaks simple things, so the others can do them."
We then practiced once (minus some members), and that was that. Before we left, Mori had one more piece of advice. "Nash, you've been training for a while, wear your black belt. If people see you wearing your white belt like you usually do, they'll assume you have to be as good as that just to start! We don't want to scare them."
Mori certainly knew his showmanship and how to work a crowd.


The demo day came and it turned out to not just be for us, but all Waseda martial arts were putting on demonstrations to try and attract new members. I got a look at a demo from some art called “Kudo, DaiDoJuku”. It just looked like MMA with a Judo uniform and a face shield. I thought the headbuts were cool, but I was more focused on the demo I was in. I didn't want to make my group look bad because I was distracted by some off-shoot style of my own art... I was sure I wouldn't cross paths much with that art in the future anyway...


Our demo went as "planned". Inoue Broke tiles, I broke a concrete block, everyone did their part and the audience seemed happy. The Waseda homepage updated with a video of our demo and a detailed write-up. The reporter even specifically mentioned me:
"However, then there is Nash. When you consider his martial arts history and his body seeming to be made of iron, this writer certainly believed he could pulverize a block. Now when the block was set, Nash assumed the sanchin stance like he usually does. He kept raising his focus, taking much longer than usual. This is Nash, but could this block be even on the border of his skills to where he could possibly fail? The tension was building, and right when the tension had reached its climax he yelled "Uoraa" and his iron hammer fist destroyed the block.
The block was pulverized beautifully. There was a calm and then a large applause. You could here various shouts of "oh my god" coming from large foreigners. This writer feels like by watching Nash at that moment he could have glimpsed the true karate."


That's one heck of a review. Nice comments, though I must say that the block was not "on the edge of my abilities",Mori just had me draw it out for entertainment purposes and tension building. Mission accomplished. Mori was quit the showman on top of being a great fighter. Two of his skills he used in tandem to again enter the All Japan tournament.


The 40th All Japan Kyokushin Karate Championships where held, and Mori competed, as well as kamada. Our dojo mate. Everyone from the dojo went to cheer them on, wearing red shirts depicting a falcon and a hawk with Mori and Kamada's names on each sleeve. The championships where a rough fight for both of them, and Kamada was eventually eliminated in the first couple hours. As Mori fought, everyone cheered so hard that they stripped their throats and lost their voices. As the day went on, overtime match, after overtime match was fought; and the results came down to weight. Mori kept winning as he had lost about 4 kilos, making him the winner by default. He made it to the best 8, but was eventually eliminated.
Their was a also a man fighting in the tournament from Bulgaria, Zahari Damiyanov. No one was with him except his girlfriend, or sister. Every time the fighter's name's where announced the crowd would erupt into cheers and applause, but every time this man's name was called the entire stadium was so quite you could hear the breathing of the people across the way. He had no one, and probably couldn't speak Japanese. After watching him fight, I realized he was really good, and strong. I read a part of his bio, and wouldn't you know, he's the same age as Mori and Myself. From then on, every time he was called to fight, and the stadium fell quite, I would cheer him on as hard as I could. He deserved fans, and he got one. Or two, counting the girl he was with. He made it all the way to second place. If he hadn't been so exhausted and beat up, I feel he could have used his technical ability to win.
A foreigner has never won the All Japan Tournament before. Since I came to Japan, I have heard one question over and over, and that day was no exception. "Nash, when are you going to enter the All Japan? I really think you could win." I don't know, year or two? A part of me is glad Bulgarian guy didn't win. Because if I ever got to enter I thought it would be cool to have been the first. I am glad that I cheered him on though, he deserved it. I had a feeling that given our ages and interests, our paths with probably officially cross at some point. As for entering the All Japan? When Mori fought in the All USA he showed me that there really weren't any Americans in the tournament. And I don't think an American has EVER won it...I've got an American passport at the very least; I thought maybe I'd go that way first. After the tournament, we celebrated Kamada, and Mori's best 8-, and went and had dinner and partied.


The organization was never content to rest and wanted to create as many simultaneous noteworthy students as possible. This meant increasing the new number of new recruits and getting everyone viable or entertaining to enter events. Mori was tasked with letting the world know his dojo didn't just have himself, but the whole place was stuffed with top tier weirdos ready to enter a challenge. He started to post 4 line fighter introductions on his blog in order to attract more people, and I finally got to sign up for a tournament. The all Kanto. He did one of his 4 line introductions for me:


ナッシュ
アメリカから空手の為に日本にやってきたアメリカ人。
剛柔流を10年やっていた彼の体はまるでターミネーター。
普段は心優しい男だが、空手の稽古になると野獣に変わる。
今大会では野性味溢れる戦いを見せてくれるだろう。


You could translate to this:


Nash
The man who came from America to Japan because of Karate.
Did Goju-ryu for something like 10 years, his body is just like the Terminator.
Usually a kind hearted man, when it's karate training he becomes a wild beast.
In the tournament this overflowing fighting spirit, this wildness, will probably show itself.


Wow, a wild beast? Is... Is that a compliment?


I was certainly starting to feel like a wild beast, but for all the reasons that don't help. The worst global recession in history had begun, and I was beginning to think there was a reason the Japanese government wanted to make sure you had 30,000$us in the bank for emergencies. What little money I had borrowed had devalued rapidly in practical terms and I was not doing well. Tokyo was the most expensive city in the world, I wasn't working, and my money was rapidly draining. With the power of basic math I figured I needed to start skrimping hard if I was going to stay in Japan, have a place to live, and accomplish my goals. In order to keep my apartment and make sure I had enough money to last the rest of the school term I had reduced my food intake to only a small meal or two per day, which I purchased at the 100yen store or at department store time service. This hit before the All Kanto tournament and it wasn't conducive for my preparation. I was still training, but I was exhausted and my body weight was rapidly decreasing. I was tired all the time, so any time I wasn't at training or school, I was lying down. I didn't know if the world was collapsing, but it felt like MY world was at least. I wasn't homeless, yet, but I lost significant weight and I was hungry. I did feel like a wild beast.


The day of the tournament we all met at the dojo at 8a.m. The All Kanto was in Ibaraki prefecture, and we'd rented a couple cars to carpool there. It would take us about 3 hours to get to the Ibaraki Budokan, so we had a lot of time to talk in the car. Before we got into our cars, someone produced the draw sheet for the tournament, and everyone was anxious to see what kind of opponent they had.
"hmm. Hatate, your opponent is approximately the same height and weight; should be interesting. Ale, you are taller than your opponent, you've got the reach advantage, but you are the same weight.  Nash...what are your measurements?"
178cm , 77kilos
"Haha, Nash...your opponent is about 2 meters tall and he's 130 kilos...good luck with that."
Everyone was shocked.
"What!? Is that guy Japanese?" "Forget that, man. Is this guy human!?" "According to the sheet, yes to both" "Jeez Nash, good luck man, what do you think?"
Sounds Interesting. A good experience, at least.
"Yeah, it wouldn't be Nash if it wasn't something crazy adventurous or outrageous. Just another day for you, eh Nash?"
I do seem to that effect on things...
After we got into the car and started our journey, that was the end of our tournament talk. You never would have guessed there was a tournament that day, as we talked about everything but.
The car we road in was closer to a self aware robot than it was to an automobile. The whole thing was operated by touch screen controls and satellite guidance. It wouldn't stop talking, or telling us which ways to go as it showed us different maps. I was glad I was in the seat farthest from the screens; I would have definitely broken them. I guess Mori was right. Maybe I am a relic of the past. I do not get along well with screen machines.
After a couple hours of traveling, we entered Ibaraki prefecture. Someone shouted "What!? No way! It's a blast from the past!" as I looked out of the window to see what the excitement was about, I saw a guy on a motorcycle. Followed by about 20 other guys on motorcycles. "It's a Motorcycle gang. The old school kind!" Yes. These guys had pompadours, thin mustaches, and wore bright leather cloths with the old imperial Japanese flags plastered all over them. They were swerving in and out of traffic, making loud noises, dragging their feet on the ground as they rode, and standing up on their bikes as they where driving. A general nuisance to most people, but something of an attraction for us. We started arguing over who would get to fight them if the opportunity arose. We decided everyone would get one or two and I would get the rest. Sounded good to me. They eventually sped away, and out of site, but it was nice to see them. A little while later a cop car came blasting past us, sirens blazing. We figured they where after the gang. We stopped at a convenience store before we got to the Budokan, so we could pick up some ice bags to use after the rounds to quell the swelling of our battered bodies. Who should we happen to come across, but our buddies from the motorcycle gang. They where causing a small ruckus at the side parking lot. So we did what anyone would do. Take pictures. They liked the attention. After a bit, they took off again. After that, it was off to the Budokan. The last 10 minutes where ridden in silence as we all sat preparing ourselves. Someone broke the silence. " why is everyone so quite? It's like there's a tournament today or something. This is what is seems like when there's only like 10 minutes to go or something before a tournament." Comedians...
We checked in and went to the tatami room to change, and wait. I took off my shirt, and my buddy said "woah, have you lost weigth!? you look..."
yeah, I've dropped a couple kilos.
"Why?"
Haven't eaten in awhile.
"Oh"
After changing, we all sat talking about what my opponent was going to look like. "I'm sure once we see him, we'll know.." Yeah. I think so.
The tatami floors where sprung for judo, so when someone walked on them, you could feel it. After we had finished talking about my opponent, we all felt something like a big movie dinosaur was walking near us. I looked up. No doubt about it. The room shaker was my opponent.
"Think you can beat him?"
Yes.
The dojo had sent a large group of fighters to the tournament, and we all talked about which one of us was going to be the champion. We where sure it was going to be one of us. They all decided I was probably going to win. I was flattered.
My time to fight finally came up. I was now facing off against this giant human shaped creature. He was slow, but when I hit him, it was like striking a big rubber ball. Never the less, I used speed and foot work, wailing on this guy for minutes at a time, and I won. Everyone fought there fights. We all advanced to the second phase for more fights.
I was up again. I could feel my stamina was gone before the match even started. I just didn't have enough in me, literally or figuratively. During the match it completely gave out. I lost by judges decision. Mori came up and asked "any injuries?"
None
"Ha, of course, you're the only one to come out of a tournament uninjured."
I lost, but at least I wasn't knocked out. The Shinjuku dojo used to say “Nash will never be knocked down or knocked out in a match!”. Judges decisions were another story though. My buddies weren't so 'lucky' though. One got knocked out. And another buddy, and another. We where all losing, and at the end of the day, none of us was champion. One of us came close, but in the final round he slipped and punched his opponent in the face, shattering his jaw, and getting disqualified in the process.
Though we all lost, our spirits remained high. Nothing to do, but train harder. That's the gift of surrounding yourself with good training partners and friends. It's hard to be down when random silliness is going on.
After the tournament we all went out to eat, and the dojo was footing the bill for the food. Hatate was amazed at the amount of food I was eating. He kept taking pictures,since he was a pro photographer at the time. Even though he took no photos of the tournament itself, he got some good shots of other things. Suzuki asked "Why are you eating so much more than usual?"
Been awhile since I had food.
"Ha, like an hour right?"
nah, like an actual while.
"Wait are you serious? I though you where joking earlier when you said that's why you lost weight. No wonder your stamina cut out like that today...should you even be fighting?"
I'll be ok. I explained what had been going on with me, and they were surprised I had agreed to fight in the tournament. On the way back I fell prey to my weakness of moving vehicles. I couldn't stay awake. The second the car started moving I fell asleep. That's the luxury of having eaten and then having the time to sit down. Too much of that will make you lazy, but I was defiantly enjoying it at the time. I was resting while I thought about how to train for better stamina while starving.


I would only need to last another two months, then the year would be fully over and my Japanese schooling with it. I could go back to the states and grab some food and money, and then come back ready to rock and roll. In the meantime, I continued wasting away pinching every yen I could. In retrospect I probably shouldn't have bought all those capsule toys... but I regret nothing!


It was now thanksgiving time in Japan. Thanksgiving there was celebrated on the Monday of the same week as Thanksgiving in America. Of course, the thanksgiving there was not to thank pilgrims for showing up to found a country that would turn into the kind of place they fled from in the first place, but to honor Japanese salary men and civil workers for working themselves into an early grave and other stress related illnesses. This meant a day off from school and work for everybody. At this point I needed all the rest I could get. Tokyo university was taking the opportunity to have a day of demo booths and tours full of food and culture. Of course, Zenjuro and some of the others where taking the opportunity to put on a Kyokushin Karate demonstration. I went to support, and also to browse the booths. Rocky the Muay Thai fighter was there, and he asked me if I had ever heard of the french foreign legion. I asked why. His reply was that he was thinking of joining, if his current plans fell through. "If things don't work out for you, I think it would be perfect for you. You should think about it too." I told him I would think about it, especially since he was the third unrelated person to tell me that in 6 months time. After everything was done, we all went out for all you can cook, all you can eat Okonomiyaki. "This is probably all you've eaten for awhile, you should eat as much as you can." I was way ahead of you on that one. A day filled with martial arts, friends, and food. Now that's a reason to give thanks.


December arrived. I had almost made it. Money had gotten pretty slim, and I had moved out of my apartment to get the security deposit back so I could have money to survive on for the next month or two. I would be heading out of Japan then, and I'd be able to regroup for my return. In the meantime I was hungry and homeless. I was alternating between sleeping in the dojo, couch surfing with who ever I could, and literally sleeping on the cold snowy December Tokyo streets. Vagrancy isn't a crime in Japan, so it was really just a matter of staying warm and staying sharp. I had visibly lost weight, down to the lowest in my life, before or since, 169lbs. The teachers at the school commented on my gauntness, and when I told them of my current situation, their reply was “make sure you get your homework done”. Sure. Thanks. In between trying to stay alive I'll make sure to practice my kanji and conjugations. At one of the Kyokushin parties Suzuki and Mori suggested I just call someone in the U.S.A. For money or help. I told them I didn't want to worry anyone, and I could bear the burden. “You are a true samurai! Suffering so others won't worry.” I don't know if that's how that works, but they admired my resolve. I did pop by the US embassy to see if they had any ideas, but after they determined the bananas in my bag from the 100yen store weren't pipe bombs and were just produce, their only suggestion was “go away”. Thanks guys. The dojo had hired me the months prior to give recovery massages to the fighters, so at least I had a little income under the table.


Even though I was homeless and in school suffering through the days, nothing would stop this inevitability: The sayonara 10 man Kumite. It is a kyokushin tradition. Whenever someone leaves for a period of time they have a sayonara 10 man fight. So, since my schooling was almost over and I was getting ready to head out, it looked like my fight was being planned. Except, according to old Mori Zenjuro, 10 people was not good enough. No, he wanted me to have an "All in". I asked him what that meant. He laughed. "10 people? Not for Nash. That's not Nash enough. You'll be fighting everyone that shows up."
How many are we expecting?
"I'm having it on the special end of the year cleaning day. Any one that can come, will. So...I don't know. 30? 50? Sounds about right."
...Osu!
And good old Mori wrote a clear invitation/reminder in his blog:


http://d.hatena.ne.jp/zenjuro/?of=5


さよならナッシュ
アメリカからの刺客こと『城西のサンタクロース』ナッシュが12月いっぱいでアメリカに帰国します！
12月26日(金)19時半よりナッシュのサヨナラ○○組手を行います。(来た人数により変更)その後、新宿道場大掃除を行います！
皆さん是非参加してナッシュも掃除しちゃいましょう！笑


It says:
"Sayonara Nash
The Assassin that came from America, Nash: The Santa Claus of Josai. When december reaches it's end, he'll be getting ready to return to America! Friday the 26 of December is Nash's XX man Sayonara Kumite, starts at 7:30. We're modifying the number of people he'll be fighting. After we are done, we will be having our year end dojo cleaning.
Everyone who comes to clean the dojo, by all means, clean Nash's clock as well. (grin)"


Thanks buddy. He made announcements during the classes leading up to it as well, stating that he would like as many people to give me memories as possible...and then said that by memories he meant welts. "everyone, please give Nash a thorough pounding".It sounded like it was going to be a good turnout. I was looking forward to it.


Later in December, prior to my gang beating, Zenjuro asked me if I knew about the Kyokushin Karate Zen Kanto Gakusei Renmei ( all kanto college student kyokushin league). I had heard of it. He told me that they where having a tournament, that he had pulled a lot of strings, and that I was fighting in that tournament. He was giving me this as a going away present. He knew me well. Inoue was the captain of the Waseda University branch of the league. When he found out, he was shocked. And worried. "Nash... please don't put anyone in the hospital...please." I told him I would do my best. Honestly though, in my condition it was likely me who needed to worry about getting sent to the hospital. Mori then took it upon himself to politely remind me I couldn't wear my white belt at the tournament. "It looks more like a really old brown belt, and it smells awful. Really awful. You've passed some tests... hears a ...what is this, blue? Wear this." Will do.


The day of the tournament came, and sometime between the two weeks from when I found out I was fighting , and the tournament day, people had changed their greeting for me. "OSU!" and "hey" had been replaced with "hey Nash, you look awful, you lost weight?". Not exactly something you want to hear 30 times in a day. It was true I didn't feel all that well though. Zenjuro came up to me holding a couple of food gel packets. "I got these for you. I know you haven't eaten, so use these for energy."
Next we all studied the draw sheet to find out who our opponents where. The sheet listed name, weight, height, rank in kyokushin, and school you where fighting for. I guess they did pull some strings, because it was only for schools in the Kanto area. Looking at the paper you could see everything written in kanji... and next to my name, in English, was the word "INDIANA" for a school name.(I was not officially an exchange student at Waseda University, just studying abroad, so they couldn't list Waseda as my school). Definitely a rules violation. Everyone's opponents where pretty much an even match up. Except for mine. A foreigner named Hendrick. I knew something was up with this guy. I caught a glimpse of him in the fight room. Thick muscle. White belt. I could tell he had studied martial arts before. That's the thing about kyokushin karate. You can't trust anyone's rank, because most people have defected from another style, or are studying it as a second art. As I was stretching, Hendrick and his group walked by. His teacher pointed to me and said "That's him. Nash. He's your opponent." To which Hendrick replied "What!? Him? THE Nash?! The monster? The wild animal!? WHY!?" They both greeted me and then walked off with Hendrick being instructed on how not to "end up broken". I don't know how they knew of me, since I had never met them before, but it was interesting anyway.
Time to fight
My first fight was against Hendrick. His attacks weren't so powerful, but his body was layered with muscle that prevented basic attacks from damaging him. Two can play that kind of game. Just as I was thinking that, I was punched in the face. No big deal, I rolled it off, but Hendrick was given a warning. Then came a bunch more punches to the face. Another warning. They weren't too strong, but I could tell whatever he had studied before, punching to the face was ok. That or his strategy was cheat until you get caught and then win with the advantage you cheated for. A common practice in fight sports. We continued fighting, then...I got punched in the face again. This one was different though. A hard bareknuckle rear punch cruched straight to my mouth. I didn't roll it off. It connected heavy. As I reeled back, Hendrick came in with a low kick to my left leg that hit solid and penetrated all the way through. I felt my knee dislocate. The fight was stopped to make sure I could still fight after the face punch. Note: I was already well into my crusade against headgear at this point in my life. I hate having to wear head gear in a fight, as it's a huge obstacle, and doesn't seem to protect, as the only thing covered is the ear, and numerous studies have shown it causes more problems than it solves... but the student union had everyone wear them for insurance reasons. A lot of good it was doing. "Any blood?" Asked one referee while I popped my knee in. "No" "Ok, another warning...FIGHT" Immediately after the "no blood" call was made, my mouth exploded with blood. The call had already been made, so now my bleeding was a moot point. It was too late to do anything , except fill my mouth with the taste of copper. That punch had scrambled me, cutting my already weakened stamina. The dislocated knee was starting to hurt and swell. The match went to a draw. Overtime. We fought again, my leg little by little becoming useless. Draw. Overtime. I now regained my stamina and dominated Hendrick in the third round for the win. He looked very depressed that he had given it his all and still lost. I was told by my friends that if that punch had hit a human being, it would have broken their teeth. I definitely could see that. If my jaw had not been clenched I'm sure it would have broken more than my skin. After the fight It was reveled that Hendrick was a Brazilian who had studied Kobujutsu extensively. I knew it. Zenjuro said " If he had fought anyone else in the tournament, he would have killed them. Good thing you got to him first."
Yeah, good thing... Except my leg was continually worsening. My next fight was with a guy from the dojo I trained at. I won easily.
Next up was one of Rocky's former schoolmates. "I want to cheer you on, but it's the same school, so I'll wish you luck now. Also, my friend wants to know what you eat to get a body with bones like metal, and super strength?" I told him rice, fish, chicken, and fruits and vegetables. "That's what I told him, but he didn't believe me!" We both laughed, and then I explained that I wasn't so strong without any food. Also, by this time I could only kick with my left leg, and weakly, because if I tried to kick with the right leg I couldn't support my own weight. Good thing I landed a good ax kick to the top of my opponents head, giving me the opportunity to come in for the win... in overtime.
I finally made it to the finals, I was fighting for champion. I couldn't stand. The kick I had received in the first round had finally come to this. I had bare knuckled my way through a whole day's worth of opponents on a dislocated swollen leg to get to the finals, but I wasn't much use by the end. I did my best to hide it, but it wasn't happening. I couldn't kick or support my weight. I fought anyway. I couldn't do anything, but the guy didn't have what it took to finish me, and I lost in the overtime to a judges decision.
Second Place.
Probably the most difficult second place I ever got. Not what I had hoped for, first place was the obvious goal, and the person who beat me was not strong or skilled. But even the fiercest beast can eventually be beaten if you cripple it first. “Constant dripping wears away stone.” A lesson learned. One person commented that I wasn't as spry or strong as I usually am. Zenjuro's reply summed it up." His body is exhausted. He's running on nothing." Inoue came up and congratulated me on second. Then added " And don't you throw that trophy away! I know you. I'm the one that took it to get it engraved. Keep it and take it to America! It's your sovereign from us."
After words, the waseda gang all went out for dinner. We wound up actually eating all of the Chinese restaurant's rice and they had to close for the night. I guess they weren't ready for 17 hungry kyokushin fighters and a hungry Nash. To say I ate allot would be an understatement. Thanks for footing the bill Suzuki! Before we parted ways, Mori reminded everyone to come to my Sayonara kumite and encouraged me to "hurry and not heal by then, so everyone can have fun kicking your leg." I didn't think it would be an issue.


The end of the calender year meant that year end festivities were in full swing. For most Japanese groups this meant a “BounenKai” an end of the year party designed to get so drunk you forget all the bad things that happened the previous year. The kyokushn group one-upped this by adding a “breaking things party” to the mix.
The tameshiwariKai saw many people breaking objects ,or trying to, for the first time. As the name implies, tameshiwari (test breaking) is a good way to gauge how your technique and power are developing. Of course I wouldn't say it is the most important part of karate, but I would say that it is indispensable, and that if you aren't doing it, you should start (under supervision, of course). Most people broke boards, but Mori kicked a concrete block, and a baseball bat. When everyone was done destroying things, it was time to destroy our livers with the BounenKai. Though most translate it as "end of the year party" is is actually written with the characters for " forget + year + gathering(party)". Therefore it is a gathering at the end of the year to forget the previous years troubles. How? By drinking alcohol. Lots. And lots. Of alcohol. There was a ton of food at this event and I ate a good deal, which was encouraged by my friends, since I now weighed in at 74.5 kilos, or about 165lbs. I was blown away by the simple fact that Domino's pizza delivered a bunch of food and their potatoes where in the shape of smiley faces. Amazing! I wondered if they were like this outside of Japan?
As I made my rounds among everyone, they commented to me and among each other how sad they where that I was leaving. One guy commented that it didn't seem right for me to be leaving because I was "so Japanese". To which Saito replied " you didn't know? Nash IS Japanese." I guess we both didn't know. Then Zenjuro jumped in to correct the situation. "He's not Japanese! you can tell by looking. . . he's HALF Japanese! like Akiyama." Of course Akiyama is full Japanese and he had a good long drunken argument with Zenjuro about it. And lost. Congratulations Akiyama! you're now only half Japanese. Zenjuro then went around the party drunkenly ambushing people with a baseball bat. I'm the only one that managed to deflect and counterattack his advance. "woah, you're the only one to do that. If this was a real fight, I would be dead."
As the night wore on, I decided to leave at around 1 to catch the last train, because I had business in the morning. By now my friends had consumed much too much alcohol, and when I started to leave, they all started hugging me, crying, telling me I didn't have to leave Japan. Telling me they didn't want me to go. It was a very emotional moment, but I assured them I wasn't leaving yet, and I would see them in a couple of days.
It was typical that I left to make the train, and didn't make it. The last stop was half way to where I was going. I decided I would walk the rest of the way. The weather decided is would be the coldest night of the year. I eventually cut my losses and just slept in the streets until the trains started back up. At least I was full of food. That's the type of thing that makes for good memories after the fact.


Since seemingly every group and organization in Japan has a bounenkai, and most people belong to more than one group, most must go to more than one end of the year party. By New Years, the amount of people too hungover to do anything is quite large. Which brings me to the Waseda University Kyokushin Karate club's Bounenkai. That morning was my school's exiting( graduation) ceremony. I had no idea whether or not I passed my final finals, and I was leaning pretty far towards "not". But it turns out I did pass. And got a "spirit" award and prize. I was really hoping it was money, but it was just an expensive pen. The Japanese really like expensive pens. I really like things I can exchange for food, like money. After the graduation, the student's who graduated all had lunch with their teachers, and the teachers paid. We went to a really expensive gourmet all you can eat place. That restaurant never knew what hit them after I got through with them.
As the teachers sat amazed at how much I could eat, one commented that I shouldn't try to do the impossible. Another then replied that I had no idea what impossible even meant. They laughed, and got to talking about various things related to me, and before I knew it, they where all begging me to tell some of my stories. I tried to refuse; but, eventually it just degraded into "Story Time With Nash”. It seemed kind of weird to be telling some of those stories to my teachers, but they loved it and insisted I write a book. I said maybe, but wouldn't a manga like "Karate Baka Ichidai”, “Kenji” or "Geki Ha" be cooler? A few hours after that huge party it was time for the Waseda Kyokushin BounenKai (which was just a day or two after Shinjuku Dojo's bounenkai). We all went to an Izakaya and the party flowed from there. We took turns making fun of each other, and Mori Zenjuro had fun telling his raunchy jokes. After we had our fill playing there, the party moved to a nice karaoke place, with live Jellyfish in the walls! As the time moved on, and excessive alcohol's effects set in, some people went back to the dojo to pass out since the trains had long since stopped running. Most stayed singing and drinking at karaoke until around 6 in the morning. Then we all bid farewell and went home. Everyone was glad the next day was a holiday, because most people just slept through it. Next training session, two days later, there was still people sick from drinking too much that night. I think their mission of "forget the year's troubles" was a success. Of course they might have forgotten a few extra things as well....


I was now officially finished with my schooling in Japan, and the year was at an end. My Sayonara Kumite finally came. As promised, whoever showed up, I would fight. Only 20 people showed up, so I had a sayonara 20 man Kumite. It was great. Of course, since I had shrunk to about 74 kilos due to lack of resources, my body was not happy. "hows the leg?" asked Mori.
.... good...
"ha, long pause. I thought so. If you don't eat, you don't heal. I'm kicking that leg for sure." We both laughed. However, I knew that if I got hit there it would be big trouble.
The first ten people where no trouble, but then came number 11. She just so happened to be a girl. Mori whispered to me to go light. “Use her to catch your breath and recover. No need to knock her out, just beat her by decision.” No problem. She had other plans though. The second the match started she let out a yell and landed a heavy kick right on the part of my knee that didn't need it. As it dislocated again for the second time in two weeks I immediately let out a sound that startled everyone, including myself. It hurt that bad. Maybe engaging in multi-man bare knuckle dock down fights basically nonstop for a few weeks while homeless and hungry wasn't the best idea. Just like that, my ability to walk was gone, but I kept fighting anyway. Only 9 more people to go. 9 more males that want to knock me out. I learned a valuable lesson that day: there are no genders in a fight, Only opponents. Gauge your moves on skill and ability, not on what someone looks like.
I made it through and Mori Zenjuro was my final opponent. Truthfully, by that point in time it was no fight. It was a beating. One that I wasn't giving. But I survived.
Then the celebrations started. We partied to celebrate my conquest, my leaving, the end of the year, and whatever else we could think of. Everyone brought me some going away presents, and made a nice sign board for me. It was really nice of everyone, and very emotional. Everyone signed my board and wrote little messages on it. "The Beast Of Josai Will Never Be Downed On Tatami!" That was the only thing written in English on my going away presents from everyone at Shinjuku Dojo. I liked it. Just because I don't get knocked out or go down doesn't mean I don't lose though. If you wanted to see a crippled "beast" get beat on for practice, you could have watched my final "fight" with Mori. I couldn't even stand... but it is true I still didn't go down. In all fairness though, he was going very easy on me. No leg kicks, no head kicks, just liquefying my insides for a few minutes. The 19 other guys did spend time lighting up that crippled leg though. I told them to just wait until I came back with some food in me! immediately following our party it was time for Osouji ( great cleaning). The big cleaning of the dojo done after the last training session before new years. We deep cleaned that dojo. Midway through cleaning I started to feel extremely nauseous and dizzy, skin clammy and cold. I think I was going into shock from my knee injury since my endorphins from the fight were wearing off. They asked if I wanted to go to the hospital and for maybe the first time in my life I considered it. I actually decided I should probably go... then I remembered that since I had become homeless I stopped paying my national health insurance bill, so I didn't have insurance or money for the hospital. So much for medical care. They say if you're going to be dumb you have to be tough, so I got some ice packs and had a lay down for half an hour and didn't wind up with immediately noticeable permanent damage. When I got my self together I helped with the year end dojo cleaning. Afterwards we went back to partying of course.


Mori found some holiday costumes and hilarity ensued. The kids at the dojo always called me “Mr. Santa” because of my old world war II navy bag, and now I could actually dress up as Santa. Mori dressed up as a reindeer. After all that we went out to dinner at a nice restaurant. This would be the restaurant I ate at for my final training session at the dojo before I left. Ironically and unknown to Suzuki who picked the place out, it was also the place I ate the first time I came to the dojo. My host father took me there on the way. Ichigo ichie.
The dinner started at around 11:30 at night, and it ran long, so periodically people would have to leave because they had to go to work early. When this happened, the person would say their good byes to me since it was that time of the year for people to be returning to their hometowns for new years, so I would not see them again the few days left in the year. It would be a very emotional situation with heart felt words and such, because no one was sure if I was ever going to be able to come back to Japan once I left. Eventually Zenjuro had to go, and we knew we would part ways, but neither of us was going to be too emotional. I could see it in his eyes though, some tears, and we said short samurai good byes. Or rather, see-you-laters. Later on Zenjuro called Suzuki's cell phone, who was still at the restaurant, so that we could talk. I went to the back of the restaurant, and heart felt-emotion filled words were exchanged in a way that face to face conversation in front of the rest of our friends made difficult.
Of course with as late as it was the trains were stopped, and we had no where to go, so at around 3 am we left the restaurant. Now down to just 5 people. I asked what everyone wanted to do. They said that since I was now homeless and had been drifting around, I might as well party the rest of the night away. I agreed, especially because drifting is difficult to do when you can't walk. My leg was basically just decoration at that point. To Karaoke! We went, we sang, we drank, and at 6 am we left. With the trains now running, we all said our final good byes. I reminded them they weren't final and I would be back as soon as possible, and I went back drifting my own way, now with presents to lug around.


I drifted to a town I had never been to. I went there so that I could stay with an ex school mate of mine for a day or two. I was given the "ok" while we were still in school, and even told the dates that would be best for me to pop by and crash. Great. I was glad to have a base, since it was not so easy to move with my left leg like it was. Since they gave me those specific dates to stay over, I was shocked to find that they aren't even in Japan when I arrived at their place. I decided I would take a "walk" around for a few, few hours. On doing so I let my head drift down to the ground. When it came back up to normal height, I was eye to eye with a dragon. A large Komodo dragon. After a startle I realized it was behind glass. Right next to it was a HUGE snake. Easily 3 meters long. This, I discovered, was an "exotic pet store". I went inside, and the horrors I witnessed did not please me. There was all manner of creatures in that store. Albino turtles which looked very sickly, monkeys, lemurs, rare snakes and lizards, and ON THE FLOOR, just sitting there, where two giant tortoises. They where alive, but just barely it seemed. I walked over to another isle to find a THIRD giant tortois. I thought this was unacceptable. I have never cared for pet stores. I don't like what they do to animals, or the conditions they are kept. Life and freedom are more important than that. Reminding myself that giving the clerk who worked there , who probably just needed a part time job, a cavity search with my shoe would lead to more legal trouble than I could handle right then, I left.


My school mate did eventually get into town ,they read their flight itinerary wrong, and I was able to sleep at their place. Finally New Year's eve had arrived, and with it my New Year's eve ritual. Every Year on New Year's eve I begin training in the night, and train into the new year. I have done this every year since the new year's of 00/01 and it feels great every time. That year's training only lasted about 2 hours and was very invigorating. It was all I could handle with my leg anyway. The sky was clear, the stars where bright, and the feint sound of new years celebrations could be heard in the distance. The temples and shrines where full of new year's well wishers, so I was left to train in a park. It did have plants, and space to move, so it was ok by me. After wards came the spirit cleansing super cold shower, and my new year had officially begun. Some say that what you are doing when the new year changes over is the direction your new year will head, so I always try to get it off on a good start.


It looked like January 1, New Years day, was going to be the day I returned to the United States. Of course, getting a low priority-last second-stand by ticket, I couldn't be sure if I was going or not. As far as I could tell though, this was going to be it. Knowing I had an 18 hour flight ahead of me, I decided I would stay awake for a couple of days, doing new years' things and what not, that way I would sleep right through the flight.

January 1- The first trains started running at 5:30 in the morning, and I got on and started heading toward Narita Airport. I allotted myself a couple hours of "getting lost" time, but I didn't get lost and so arrived very early. As I wandered the airport, I noticed a stark contrast to what was o.k. in Japanese airports, and what would not be o.k. in an American one.

I saw many older Japanese men dressed in traditional cloths, one holding a large wooden mallet. They were surrounded by the winner of the "Miss Japan" beauty pageant and the two runner ups. All three were dressed in beautiful kimono. I knew what was happening. It was traditional sake-cask breaking time. I had heard they would use the mallet to open the sake cask and give the sake away until it was gone. Sure enough, that's what happened. I didn't want any. I had been up for days, and if I drank that sake I would have immediately fallen asleep. I tried to avoid them by going to the book store.

I returned to the main hub about 40 minutes later, thinking the crowd would have cleared out. Instead I was greeted by hundreds and hundreds of drunk people. The head men from the airport company were drunk. All the passengers waiting in the airport were drunk. The people running the kiosks were drunk. Everyone was very drunk and very happy... and it was 8 in the morning. At least the security guards weren't drunk, but that seemed about it. I watched as the head old men from the airport company chased people down with square wooden cups of sake and forced it on them. I tried to go unnoticed. No such luck. Company man spotted me and headed over. "Happy New Year! Drink It!" he could barely say due to intoxication. No thank you. I can't handle it now. "It's FREE!" he yelled, never losing his smile. I don't think..."Delicious! Here!" He tried handing me the cup without his whole body waving like he was standing in the ocean, but it didn't work. I didn't take the cup, and his body swayed back and forth against his will. "HERE!" No thanks!

And back and forth we went for a while, until finally he said "the cup is special... you want just an empty cup?"...yes please. And so we walked over to Miss Japan to get a cup. "Oh, you want some sake?" she sweetly asked. No, just a cup. "It's really good..." No. And then her and I went back and forth until the man spoke up-"No, he just wants an empty cup."

"Just a cup?" She looked at me with a look of disgust like I had just eaten somebody's vomit. Now, normally a tipsy Miss Japan pushing booze on me would be just fine, but I wasn't in the mood. I had a plan for this flight. She handed the man a full cup. He had been holding an empty dry one this whole time. He poured the liquor from the full cup to the empty one, and gave me the newly emptied wet one. Why he didn't just give me the dry one from the start I don't know. I also don't know why we went over to talk to Miss Japan in the first place, other than this man was very drunk, and I'm sure it made perfect sense to him at the time. An airport full of booze pushers, models, and drunk people. This type of shenanigans would ever be tolerated in an American airport at that time. Too bad.


Those Americans, it's always something. For example, let's say one was living in Japan and had become a permanent resident. They would be given a permanent residency ID card. This card is technically property of the Japanese government, so must be returned to them when you've been declared not living there anymore. Like say if your schooling was over and you were going back to America for an indeterminate amount of time. You would have to surrender it during an inspection at the airport and you definitely don't want to be one of those Americans who says that it was lost just to try and keep it as a souvenir. I assure you, you will look like an idiot and have some explaining to do when they search you and find it hidden under the sole of your shoe...

At this point, I was fairly pleased with myself for arriving at the airport with a couple hours to spare. Even with my customs fiasco I still had plenty of time to spare. I usually get forced into rushing somehow. I proceeded to find my gate and wait on some chairs and watch the world televisions. A couple hours went by. 10 minutes to go. Guess I'll walk through the check in now, I thought. So I headed over...Only to find the place I thought I was, was not the place I actually was. I crossed through the "check-in #1" to find I needed to take about 2km of tunnels to get to where I needed to be. After a few meters, I then got to check-in #2. As I was passing through, I heard over the intercom " Mr.....Nash. Please report to flight #~ to U.S.A....Mr. Nash please report for flight to U.S.A..." Wow, I thought. What are the odds that someone with the same name as me would be on the same flight as me? Then it hit me. I was going to miss my flight.

I made it through check-in #2, and turned the corner; there, I saw a worried looking stewardess holding a sign with my name and flight on it. I was so late, they had time to make me a sign. So much for being a couple hours early. "Are...you...mr.....Nash..?" She said in broken English. I speak Japanese. "Oh good! We have to run!" And we did. We ran, and as we where running she checked my passport and ticket, all while being very nice and making good conversation. After about 2/3 the distance, another stewardess was waiting, and the first one handed me off to the second. Like a relay race, except I was the baton. We hopped on a cart because my swollen non-bending knee was slowing us down. We made it to the plane door, and because I had been inspected while running, they just shoved me in. The faces of the passengers that greeted me had some of the grumpiest facial expressions I had ever seen. Turns out the whole plane had been waiting for me to get there. They had been holding the flight for one person...me. I don't think something like that would have happened in America either.

Now I was finally on the flight. I had stayed up days and avoided free sake from a super model just to be able to sleep through this...and I couldn't sleep! I didn't really care though. The seats were comfortable, and because I had signed up for the "healthy food" choice, I was constantly being brought food. The stewardesses where always in the back making me fresh sandwiches and cutting up fruit and steaming vegetables for me. Everyone else got disgusting looking T.V. diners, and only three of them. Meanwhile, I had a constant stream of fresh food being supplied to me. The other passenger's hatred for me grew with each hour. My delicious food and comfy chair on the airplane that waited for me kept me from caring though. Since I couldn't sleep, I passed the time listening to the radio, and losing to a computer at chess. Soon, I had landed at the Chicago airport; what a different place it was compared to Japan. Everyone was rude, mean, and fat. I wanted to go back to Japan immediately. A lady bumped into me and I accidentally apologized in Japanese. Also, I was getting hungry, but I had already passed through customs inspection, and there wasn't a money changer beyond it. Nobody wanted yen at the Chicago airport. Of course, my flight leaving Chicago was delayed due to snow and wind. When it finally did arrive, it looked like a little crop plane that was getting ready to fall apart.

As the plane started to touch down at my destination, I thought that I might have accidentally gone to the wrong city, which I supposed would have been where I would stay for a while, since I was out of money. It turned out they had just more or less remolded the entire city since the last time I was there. New stadium, new airport, the works. I had been traveling for 18 hours, and arrived 3 hours before I left. I was experiencing all kinds of culture shock, and these things weren't helping.

To make matters worse, I still had a promise to keep. One of my friends had me promise that they would be the first person I saw , at their house, when I got back. Except, if that was the case, I couldn't get a ride from anyone either. So I walked. I walked for hours in the blistering cold to fulfill that promise, and they didn't seem to really care. Upon arrival I was told I looked terrible( I HAD been up for days) and that was about it. I was also informed that the next day we would all be going to take a trip to Chicago. Two friends, me, and one of their new boyfriends headed up to Chicago for a day trip; and besides the wind and lack of sunlight, it seemed like everyone had fun. We went to the aquarium and to Chinatown, my favorite place in Chicago. After we returned, I began the difficult process of overcoming reverse culture shock, trying to visit the friends including ones I met in Japan that were now in the states like George and Yusuke, and getting myself back together to return to Japan. I had plenty of unfinished business, including having been quested to return up Mt. Fuji with my friend's ashes.

I had to prepare.
-NASH