I have a fair interest in Japanese culture. I like their food, their history and their potentially-criminal game shows.
I rarely get the opportunity to engage in Japanese culture, as I’ve been warned multiple times that hitting people in the testicles for failing to recite a tongue-twister is classified as assault. So, I was pleased to see that there is a Kendo club that meets every week in Ping.
Kendo is a modern Japanese martial art that means “Way of the Sword.” It originated from the traditional swordsmanship that samurai used called “kenjutsu.” Sweet! Is there anything more manly than a sword? The only thing I could come up with is killing something with a sword.
Unfortunately, the chances of killing anything in this class were pretty slim. You know, because murder is illegal. Also, instead of using actual swords, we used bamboo blades called “shinai.”
I was a first-timer who simply walked in to attend a class, but it was clear that everyone else was a regular member. They all seemed to be a close-knit group, and they were all very friendly to me. They also were some of the least intimidating people I ever would’ve imagined being in a martial arts class.
That was just a first impression, but as the class progressed, a very common teaching was that Kendo was not about power. It was about technique. Crap. Focusing on technique requires practice and patience. That was a problem, because learning patience took too long.
Since I was new, I needed to learn the basic techniques, such as holding the shinai correctly. I was doing a one-on-one lesson with an older gentleman, whose name I failed to ask, who was obviously the most experienced of the group.
I’m not sure if I knew this because he was one of two people wearing the proper Kendo uniform or because he told me he’s practiced Kendo for more than 32 years.
He was a really cool guy. He was incredibly patient with my failures, and he would try and teach me by repeatedly hitting me over the head with his shinai. I felt like I was a Ninja Turtle and he was my Splinter.
Taking this class, I realized why I never practiced martial arts when I was younger. Learning the basics is so boring. The two of us went over proper foot stance and sword grip for more than an hour. Even now, though, I don’t understand it.
Why is holding a sword so complex? I was told to hold the entire sword’s weight in my left hand and only lightly place my right hand on the hilt. Why? Common sense tells me that two hands holding a sword would have more power and more control. However, I stopped listening to my common sense after I thought a unicycle would be easier to ride than a bicycle because it has fewer wheels.
My knee hasn’t been the same since.
So, I continued my lesson with Splinter without questions or doubts, and when we finally finished, my left hand felt arthritic because I put most of the sword’s weight in one hand.
Splinter told me that I should continue with Kendo because I have potential. I’m not sure if he was just trying to make me feel better, but I appreciated the gesture. However, if I lived up to the potential people keep saying I have, I would be trilingual and president of two countries.
I know that martial arts require years of dedication and hard work, and I am foolish to think I can get to the cool techniques in one day. This class taught me that learning a martial art isn’t compatible with my impatient personality.
I am glad I took the class, though. I was still feeling pretty down about the Zumba class I took last week, and not even eight hours at 10Fest could make me forget that experience. Learning how to use a weapon was a pretty good pick-me-up. Next week, I should find a gun.
Dennis Fulton is a senior studying journalism and a columnist for The Post. Should he stick with Kendo or give Zumba another shot? Email him at df342709@ohiou.edu.
