Kung Fu-Sushi Chef-Hair Stylist & Training with Jet Li’s Former Master
During my few years of solid uchi-deshi after Alaska, everything I did was for martial arts training. I even took a girl to her prom, but was super late to the dinner because I was fighting in a Karate tournament; the dinner was all but over by the time I got there. I haven't changed much since then...
My teacher even convinced me to enroll in University, to study Kinesiology to better understand my art. I was spending my entire days in training, even more intently than when I was in high school, and those days were like this: get up at 4:30 for morning exercises, usually for about an hour and a half, then walk a couple miles to school. After school walk the couple miles back. Then grab my training bag and walk for a couple hours to the dojo. Train with my teacher from 5pm until 10pm, then walk the couple hours back. In bed at midnight to start the process over again the next day. Now that I was in college my training had broadened to the academic aspects of the art, which requires more intensity.
Since training was my sole focal point, everyday brought me something silly and pugilistic, like a Jackie Chan TV show about martial teens. Sometimes you're just trying to study for finals but you wind up running into a guy you don't know practicing Muay Thai at 1am and you spend the whole morning/night exchanging techniques with him. That was the gist of my everyday. Here's a few more examples:
For the longest time, I was having a very difficult time getting a decent hair cut, which was one of the contributing reasons for my cessation of such things, but before that I was still struggling. Then, the mother of one of the children my teacher worked with suggested I go to her hair stylist. A man. Who was not homosexual, she repeatedly reassured me. I repeatedly reassured her that I didn't care if he was or not. As long as he could give me a decent haircut. She said he was very good, but he had another job, and the hours he was available where different from most. I said I didn't care, and if the man was her friend, I would trust him. I just wanted my hair cut as soon as possible. Hopefully in the next day or so. She took out her phone, and called the man, right there at 9 o'clock at night. There was some mandarin Chinese spoken, and then she handed me the phone. The guy asked me when I wanted my hair cut, and I replied with "as soon as possible". He asked me if 11 would be all right, So I said sure, what day? Tonight. That's right. This man was going to leave his second job for the day and go back to his first job at 11 o'clock at night to cut and style someone's hair. He was a hair stylist by day, and a sushi chef/ hibachi griller at night. I told him it was too much trouble and I didn't want to impose. We bickered back and forth for a bit, and I wound up going that night.
I don't know what that place's hours where because when I got there, there where people getting their hair cut. At 11o'clock at night. On a Thursday. Multiple people!
So then the man comes in. Dressed very stylishly. He could have easily have made the cover of GQ magazine. He was Chinese, but had the features of a Japanese, he could have easily have been one of those over-styled movie yakuza.
He sat me in the hair cutting chair and asked me what I wanted done. A hair cut. "what kind?" You're the professional, whatever you think looks good.
The places I had got my hair cut at before where mostly barber shops. You come in. They turn on the electric razor. Your hair goes away. What's left looks terrible.
This man produced a utility belt of knives, bladed combs, and scissors, and strapped it on like Rambo and Batman where calling him to form a super group. He flipped these things in and out of the belt, spun them around, and cut my hair. FAST. It was like getting your hair cut by Chow Yun Fat.
When it was all said and done, my hair looked good, and he gave me a special price because I knew his friend.
A few months go by, and I need a new hair cut. I call him up and again, 11 that night.
This time however, there is no one in the place. Just the two of us. During conversations he finds out I am a martial artist. At around midnight he finishes cutting my hair and reveals that he too, is a martial artist. Also, this very young looking man , who looked to be in his early 20's, turned out to be in his late 40's. He explains to me he studies Chinese gung fu, a system whose name he did not say, and Bagua Zhang. He also speaks Mandarin, Cantonese, English, Japanese and some Spanish. He then proceeds to go to the middle of the room, take a stance, and demonstrates some complicated technique. He then motions for me to do it.
I stumble through and he compliments me on my ability to quickly pick things up. He then demonstrates a leg exercise, a modification of the 'pistol' one legged squat. He motions for me to do it, and is shocked when I actually do.
He then proceeded to teach me techniques and enlighten me on some Chinese ways to gather chi. We discussed the finer points of the martial arts until well past 2 in the morning.
In our conversation he noted that I must have a very good instructor, that I should listen to my grandfather, and that I had the spirit of a true martial artist.
His parting words will stay with me:
" You where raised as part of a dying breed. You're one of the last. You know the truth of the world that most people don't know, or don't want to know. It is your obligation to find a way to enlighten them. To show them the truth."
Those are bold words, and ones I’ve thought about frequently ever since. Is it my duty to be a “liberator of spirits”?
I pondered things like this all the time, from one silly martial run in to the next. As I was pondering, I kept up with my University work, which just so happened to included a couple of semesters of Chinese language study. Since I'm always on the hunt for opportunities to improve my martial art, I decided to ask my teacher if she knew any Chinese martial artists. "In America?" Yes, I said. "I know them back in China..." This response seemed to be a dead end, until she said "well, I knew one person, but he's in China right now..." I felt an opportunity approach, but decided I should back off for now. A few months later, I inquired about this person she knew who was in china. "Oh, I spoke to him yesterday by telephone. He'll be back in a week." Great, I thought. What sort of martial arts does he practice? "I don't know about that kind of thing... he does a lot of different things. I will ask, if you like what he does, I will introduce you."
A week later she got back with me. "Old wushu, and new wushu. Do you know Jet Li?" Yes. "My friend is one of Jet Li's old masters. His name is An Tianrong. Because he is my friend, he has agreed to train you for a day." A good opportunity if there ever was one.
I told my martial arts teacher about it, and asked if he wanted to go. He was almost as enthusiastic as myself. On the appointed date, we drove for many hours to get to the place we where supposed to meet at.
When we got there we where met by two people. The master, who only spoke Chinese, and his assistant who spoke Chinese and English. After pleasantries where exchanged the master explained ,with his assistant translating, what exactly he would be teaching us.
The old art "Xing yi Quan" ( 形意拳 )
He explained that because it is so similar to Karate, we would be able to learn it the fastest. Also he explained that Xing yi is a great compliment to Karate. He was right. Even though Xing yi is classified as an “internal” style, it is quit aggressive and physically devastating.
Xing yi is an old Chinese art that revolves around being extremely close to the opponent. Delivering strikes, but with no space to generate power. The purpose is to learn to generate extreme power with no space, and keep your opponent from doing the same. The emphasis is toughness and survival. The art moves in hard, straight lines, and is often practiced in tandem with the art of “Bagua Zhang” ( 八卦掌 ) which moves in soft circles. Xing yi Quan makes an appearance in the movie "The One", with Jet Li. It is the style used by "Bad Jet Li" ( also, Bagua Zhang is the art used by "Good Jet Li").
My teacher and me where then to each be taught by one of the teachers. My teacher was chosen to go with the assistant, I was chosen to go with the master. Perhaps this was because I spoke a little Chinese(very little), or because it was my Chinese teacher who was his friend. Whatever the reason, I was to go with the master.
Since we where only to spend the day with An Tianrong, we where only taught the basic foundation of the style. The 5 basic movements that make up the system, and their theories. This turned out to be enough, however, as the master was quite the task master. Everything had to be to his liking, and eventually it was.
Before we parted ways, the master taught us an old saying for the style of Xing yi Quan. The saying was to dictate the mindset of the practitioner during use of Xing yi in a fight, but could also be used to live life as well. Xing yi is an art that specializes in being close to the opponent. Very close. This is dangerous, and can become frightening. To counteract this, this phrase is instilled in the heart of Xing yi Quan:
"I may be beaten to death, but I will never be scared to death."
Meaning that no matter what the enemy has, you will not only not show fear, but not have fear to show. You will push through all fear and do what you must.
This phrase has stuck with me ever since I heard it, and has become somewhat of a personal motto of mine.
Afterward, my teacher and I thanked the instructors and headed on our way. A several hour drive awaited us, and we had much new information to discuss. On the way back, we stopped at a used book store, and I bought a copy of "This is Karate" by Mas Oyama.
Never forget, it is better to die on your feet than live on your knees. Follow your heart above all else. I may be beaten to death, but I will never be scared to death.
Martial art seminars are good, but they are even better when they are private, sincere, and impromptu.
Plus, I seem to always get some profound saying from each of those occasions.
Those anecdotes should give you an alright gist of my day to day during that time in my life. It's basically the same as now:
Train. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.
-Nash
My teacher even convinced me to enroll in University, to study Kinesiology to better understand my art. I was spending my entire days in training, even more intently than when I was in high school, and those days were like this: get up at 4:30 for morning exercises, usually for about an hour and a half, then walk a couple miles to school. After school walk the couple miles back. Then grab my training bag and walk for a couple hours to the dojo. Train with my teacher from 5pm until 10pm, then walk the couple hours back. In bed at midnight to start the process over again the next day. Now that I was in college my training had broadened to the academic aspects of the art, which requires more intensity.
Since training was my sole focal point, everyday brought me something silly and pugilistic, like a Jackie Chan TV show about martial teens. Sometimes you're just trying to study for finals but you wind up running into a guy you don't know practicing Muay Thai at 1am and you spend the whole morning/night exchanging techniques with him. That was the gist of my everyday. Here's a few more examples:
For the longest time, I was having a very difficult time getting a decent hair cut, which was one of the contributing reasons for my cessation of such things, but before that I was still struggling. Then, the mother of one of the children my teacher worked with suggested I go to her hair stylist. A man. Who was not homosexual, she repeatedly reassured me. I repeatedly reassured her that I didn't care if he was or not. As long as he could give me a decent haircut. She said he was very good, but he had another job, and the hours he was available where different from most. I said I didn't care, and if the man was her friend, I would trust him. I just wanted my hair cut as soon as possible. Hopefully in the next day or so. She took out her phone, and called the man, right there at 9 o'clock at night. There was some mandarin Chinese spoken, and then she handed me the phone. The guy asked me when I wanted my hair cut, and I replied with "as soon as possible". He asked me if 11 would be all right, So I said sure, what day? Tonight. That's right. This man was going to leave his second job for the day and go back to his first job at 11 o'clock at night to cut and style someone's hair. He was a hair stylist by day, and a sushi chef/ hibachi griller at night. I told him it was too much trouble and I didn't want to impose. We bickered back and forth for a bit, and I wound up going that night.
I don't know what that place's hours where because when I got there, there where people getting their hair cut. At 11o'clock at night. On a Thursday. Multiple people!
So then the man comes in. Dressed very stylishly. He could have easily have made the cover of GQ magazine. He was Chinese, but had the features of a Japanese, he could have easily have been one of those over-styled movie yakuza.
He sat me in the hair cutting chair and asked me what I wanted done. A hair cut. "what kind?" You're the professional, whatever you think looks good.
The places I had got my hair cut at before where mostly barber shops. You come in. They turn on the electric razor. Your hair goes away. What's left looks terrible.
This man produced a utility belt of knives, bladed combs, and scissors, and strapped it on like Rambo and Batman where calling him to form a super group. He flipped these things in and out of the belt, spun them around, and cut my hair. FAST. It was like getting your hair cut by Chow Yun Fat.
When it was all said and done, my hair looked good, and he gave me a special price because I knew his friend.
A few months go by, and I need a new hair cut. I call him up and again, 11 that night.
This time however, there is no one in the place. Just the two of us. During conversations he finds out I am a martial artist. At around midnight he finishes cutting my hair and reveals that he too, is a martial artist. Also, this very young looking man , who looked to be in his early 20's, turned out to be in his late 40's. He explains to me he studies Chinese gung fu, a system whose name he did not say, and Bagua Zhang. He also speaks Mandarin, Cantonese, English, Japanese and some Spanish. He then proceeds to go to the middle of the room, take a stance, and demonstrates some complicated technique. He then motions for me to do it.
I stumble through and he compliments me on my ability to quickly pick things up. He then demonstrates a leg exercise, a modification of the 'pistol' one legged squat. He motions for me to do it, and is shocked when I actually do.
He then proceeded to teach me techniques and enlighten me on some Chinese ways to gather chi. We discussed the finer points of the martial arts until well past 2 in the morning.
In our conversation he noted that I must have a very good instructor, that I should listen to my grandfather, and that I had the spirit of a true martial artist.
His parting words will stay with me:
" You where raised as part of a dying breed. You're one of the last. You know the truth of the world that most people don't know, or don't want to know. It is your obligation to find a way to enlighten them. To show them the truth."
Those are bold words, and ones I’ve thought about frequently ever since. Is it my duty to be a “liberator of spirits”?
I pondered things like this all the time, from one silly martial run in to the next. As I was pondering, I kept up with my University work, which just so happened to included a couple of semesters of Chinese language study. Since I'm always on the hunt for opportunities to improve my martial art, I decided to ask my teacher if she knew any Chinese martial artists. "In America?" Yes, I said. "I know them back in China..." This response seemed to be a dead end, until she said "well, I knew one person, but he's in China right now..." I felt an opportunity approach, but decided I should back off for now. A few months later, I inquired about this person she knew who was in china. "Oh, I spoke to him yesterday by telephone. He'll be back in a week." Great, I thought. What sort of martial arts does he practice? "I don't know about that kind of thing... he does a lot of different things. I will ask, if you like what he does, I will introduce you."
A week later she got back with me. "Old wushu, and new wushu. Do you know Jet Li?" Yes. "My friend is one of Jet Li's old masters. His name is An Tianrong. Because he is my friend, he has agreed to train you for a day." A good opportunity if there ever was one.
I told my martial arts teacher about it, and asked if he wanted to go. He was almost as enthusiastic as myself. On the appointed date, we drove for many hours to get to the place we where supposed to meet at.
When we got there we where met by two people. The master, who only spoke Chinese, and his assistant who spoke Chinese and English. After pleasantries where exchanged the master explained ,with his assistant translating, what exactly he would be teaching us.
The old art "Xing yi Quan" ( 形意拳 )
He explained that because it is so similar to Karate, we would be able to learn it the fastest. Also he explained that Xing yi is a great compliment to Karate. He was right. Even though Xing yi is classified as an “internal” style, it is quit aggressive and physically devastating.
Xing yi is an old Chinese art that revolves around being extremely close to the opponent. Delivering strikes, but with no space to generate power. The purpose is to learn to generate extreme power with no space, and keep your opponent from doing the same. The emphasis is toughness and survival. The art moves in hard, straight lines, and is often practiced in tandem with the art of “Bagua Zhang” ( 八卦掌 ) which moves in soft circles. Xing yi Quan makes an appearance in the movie "The One", with Jet Li. It is the style used by "Bad Jet Li" ( also, Bagua Zhang is the art used by "Good Jet Li").
My teacher and me where then to each be taught by one of the teachers. My teacher was chosen to go with the assistant, I was chosen to go with the master. Perhaps this was because I spoke a little Chinese(very little), or because it was my Chinese teacher who was his friend. Whatever the reason, I was to go with the master.
Since we where only to spend the day with An Tianrong, we where only taught the basic foundation of the style. The 5 basic movements that make up the system, and their theories. This turned out to be enough, however, as the master was quite the task master. Everything had to be to his liking, and eventually it was.
Before we parted ways, the master taught us an old saying for the style of Xing yi Quan. The saying was to dictate the mindset of the practitioner during use of Xing yi in a fight, but could also be used to live life as well. Xing yi is an art that specializes in being close to the opponent. Very close. This is dangerous, and can become frightening. To counteract this, this phrase is instilled in the heart of Xing yi Quan:
"I may be beaten to death, but I will never be scared to death."
Meaning that no matter what the enemy has, you will not only not show fear, but not have fear to show. You will push through all fear and do what you must.
This phrase has stuck with me ever since I heard it, and has become somewhat of a personal motto of mine.
Afterward, my teacher and I thanked the instructors and headed on our way. A several hour drive awaited us, and we had much new information to discuss. On the way back, we stopped at a used book store, and I bought a copy of "This is Karate" by Mas Oyama.
Never forget, it is better to die on your feet than live on your knees. Follow your heart above all else. I may be beaten to death, but I will never be scared to death.
Martial art seminars are good, but they are even better when they are private, sincere, and impromptu.
Plus, I seem to always get some profound saying from each of those occasions.
Those anecdotes should give you an alright gist of my day to day during that time in my life. It's basically the same as now:
Train. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.
-Nash