KODOKAN

The difference between Kimo’s Kodokan and the Shoreikan in Ochoa was, for all practical purpose, none. The syllabus up to black belt was the same, with added katas that Kimo picked up from various other teachers, including Toguchi (Kakuha), which were taught after black belt. Kodokan’s distinction was Kobudo that Kimo learned under Matayoshi. The difference was in how the class was conducted. I dare say that Kimo didn’t put too much stock in belt rank aside from the material taught. As soon as I learned the nuances of how he wanted the katas done, was up to speed in my physical condition, and refreshed all the programmed kumite and bunkai drills, I was given my green belt back in 10 months. Kime was crucial, not so a perfected style. Discipline was based on respect and courtesy. Kimo was hands on, but at the same time hands off. Coaxing instead of coercing. The higher the rank, the more respect was demanded. Everybody practiced together, so lower belts constantly saw classic kata performed. No secrets. You were expected to train your material and any belt higher than yours was expected to answer questions and clear up doubts. Every so often all the kata syllabus was done and the ranks would sit down in progression, and Kimo would be the last one left standing as he did one of the classic katas alone. I mention kumite and bunkai and must clarify that within my Goju training this was not free fighting or a portion of a kata done as a drill. A kata bunkai was the entire kata with another person and lasted as long if not longer, exchanging attack and defense in a prescribed manner. Kumite were normally six technique drills and there were six to eight kumites spread out through the different ranks that would progressively become more complicated and intense. You were graded on these as if they were katas. In all, the kumites would include techniques from all the katas up to Suparinpei. These kumite and bunkai drills were done in two lines facing each other, switching partners constantly and everyone took part. As the ranks reached their material, they would go elsewhere to continue their training under a senior student. This would mean that in any given night a lower belt would be doing 100 plus kumites with people of their own rank and higher. Kumites and bunkais done by brown and black belts would seem to be real combat. Knowing the drill allowed higher ranks to fully attack knowing the partner would know where to block. Control was important. Injury was avoided by having intense kumite only between a lower and higher rank. Brown and black belts. Lower ranks, meaning anything below green, were allowed then to attempt a real strike. It is hard to explain since I’ve never seen anything like it in other styles. It is not your one or two step parry and counterpunch, but a continuous give and take. These drills could go on for 30 minutes or so. They were exhausting and trained your focus. Pauses in dojo training were minute, mainly a moment of transition you would go from one thing to another seamlessly non-stop. You trained your stamina and how to apportion your energy. The higher you would go up in rank the more intense the training. A brown belt could be more than 45 minutes doing katas in every direction. These drills were done every day you went. You finished training drenched in sweat, sweat over sweat. You learned how to move your energy around just to survive. If you felt sick you could ask to sit down in zazen until you got yourself together and went in again.

Then after all was done, meditation. Arigato gozai mashita.

What Goju Do You?

When I started in karate I didn’t even know what that really was, much less that there were different styles of karate, different martial arts, and different origins. That came much, much later. Remember, no cable TV, You Tube, etc. Plus, the sensei were not much given to explaining such intricacies to a white belt. The feeling was, why ask so many questions if you hardly know how to do a basic block right. First things first. The truth is, I had no questions because I didn’t know anything about the martial arts, in fact the words “martial arts” were also absent from my meager karate vocabulary. The point is that too much is given to the names of things, and little to their substance, terms are thrown around like so much confetti. That I did learn: to stop intellectualizing and listen to my body, to observe mine and the bodies of others, as they moved or stood still. Take the word “Goju.” To give it the proper pronunciation in Spanish, one would have to change the “j” to “y.” And, according to whoever is speaking, put an accent on the u. That’s why I smile now when I hear or read about the proper way to say or write the Japanese or Okinawan terms, since there seems to be no consensus as how to say or spell anything in Goju or Goyú, and, anyway, it is all in the lingua franca of karate outside Japan or Okinawa: English. But I must now take a plunge and risk it all for I must mention my Goju syllabus, that like all Goju syllabi, differs somewhat, in order, and in what can be termed the “practice kata,” and by this I mean all that is not considered the “classical" Miyagi legacy(Seisan or sesan, etc.)—I’m getting a bit confused here—but bear with me. Its all Goju you know, so just let go.

My Goju syllabus was set in Shoreikan and was as follows:

Tandoku Kata Dai Ichi, Tandoku Kata Dai Ni, Gekisai Kata Dai Ichi, Gekisai Kata Dai Ni, Gekisai Kata Dai San, Sanchin, Saifa, Seiyunchin, Gekiha, Tensho, Sesan, Sepai, Sishoshin, Sanseru, Kururunfa, Suparinpei.

With Kimo Wall in Kodokan, add two: Kakuha Sho and Kakuha Dan, and eliminate one: Tandoku Kata Dai Ni. And there were others, but basically this is, was and will be my syllabus.

While in Chi-I-Do , under Master Kow Loon Ong (Cayo Sensei) — and where I formally got my black belt — certain practice katas were eliminated, another version of Tensho added, and kiso kumites restructured, and certain bunkai movements altered. Plus, all katas were given a, let us say, Chinese accent (elongated so to speak, etc.)

So you see, I too can further complicate matters vis-á-vis those three guys you see on the blog links. And what I mean by this is than Goju has many faces but still has distinguishable eyes, nose and mouth.

Our Bunkai was the kata with another person, and our kumite was two ways and with multiple steps, ending in one technique, usually five techniques per set. No ju (free) kumite allowed, permitted or tolerated, end of story. And yes, there was a reason for this. There is always a reason. So, what Goju do you?

My First Dirty Old Gi

When I started Okinawan Goju-Ryu Karate in the Shoreikan School on Ochoa Street I was an economically-impaired university student and since I didn’t know any better, I bought the cheapest gi I could get, in an off-white color, and it got totally soaked in sweat 15 minutes into the exercise session. Plus, the sweat stains turned gray and resistant to any detergent. The different sensei berated me about it but since I had trouble enough paying the monthly dojo fees, a new gi was definitely out of the question. The problem was that it stayed out of the question for 8 years, through two different schools. The problem was compounded by the fact that I hardly had time to wash it between classes. Most of the time I just hosed it down and hung it to dry, but there were times when it remained bundled up and tied with my belt. Luckily the stink ran so high in that first crowded dojo that nobody would notice unless they got up close and personal. It continued that way, mended and remended well into my second stint in the Kodokan School under Kimo Wall Sensei, who would lend me one of his old gis when I had to give the kid classes as brown belt. By that time it was pretty worn out, most of the sleeves gone for patches where someone grabbed me too energetically or sent me sliding across the dojo floor. Finally it just fell apart during one real brutal practice session and Kimo Sensei peeled what was left off my back. I was forced to work extra at the dojo to pay for an old practice gi Kimo rummaged from his stash. I took it home and washed the by then multi-stained rags carefully by hand and heeded Kimo’s advice to keep it as a reminder of what it took to get where I got. I’ve had a lot of gis since then, none lasted as long. The bag where I stored it got lost in one move or another, although I still got all the belts, some given to me by senior students as was the tradition. I now got two very expensive gis that should now last me to my grave, but I miss that old dirty gi; it had my blood and sweat and that of many I practiced with at the time. It had a story, real up close and personal.