Shaolin Journeys

[LFJ]

There might even be some at Songshan.

Sometimes, but not by the monks.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cnTd7Xr79bQ

If you compare the activity on the Shaolin and Wing Chun forums here, you'll find most discussion on the Shaolin forum, when it happens, is about history and playing forms (or philosophy, politics, recent events, etc. anything but fighting), whereas on the Wing Chun forum it's all about fighting methods and training to fight.

The same is true elsewhere online. Everyday on Facebook I see snazzy poses and forms from one group, and clips of at least partner drills and fight training from the other. You can guess which is which.

This Hunnam guy sounds interested in fighting, having also mentioned going to Thailand for a month-long intensive Muay Thai training. He'd be much better off doing that or going to Hong Kong for some Wing Chun. There's only one way to find good traditional fight training in Shaolin, and it's not going to the monastery as a celebrity looking for Wing Chun.

[GeneChing]

This Hunnam guy sounds interested in fighting,

He's an actor. He's not *that* interested in fighting. You think he wants to risk his moneymaker face doing Muay Thai? It's just stuff for the press. That was my point with the initial post. If he was really interested in this stuff, he wouldn't have made such a poser gaffe.

Nevertheless, I hope he does go to Shaolin. Regardless of the Wing Chun, it would be a great press op for both him and Shaolin, especially if he does it while promoting 50 Shades.

[LFJ]

I honestly have no idea who the guy is, but if he says he wants to go do a month of Muay Thai in Thailand I take it that's what he wants to do. Plenty of actors are serious martial artists.

[GeneChing]

Published: Wednesday September 11, 2013 MYT 9:22:00 AM
Updated: Wednesday September 11, 2013 MYT 10:06:08 AM
Shaolin sojourn
By DAVINA GOH


The writer outside the gates of the shaolin academy


BY the time anyone reads this, I would have spent a month and a week at the Maling Shaolin Kungfu Academy in Jiangsu Province, China.

I took an overnight train to get here, propped upright on the hardest chair imaginable for twelve hours straight and receiving looks of fascination from the five other people at my booth. The school is situated about a half-hour bus ride away from the nearest city centre of Xinyi. The setting is rustic; training takes place five days a week in a reasonably-sized backyard, or on top of a small, breezy hill nearby.

Since I have been here, the weather has drastically changed from 40-degree heat and unbearable humidity to dry, chilly air. I will be here until winter, when I will be living in minus 10-degree weather – and snow! - for the very first time.

Before this, I had an amazing boss who understood and supported my burgeoning acting career. But working in her event management company for nine years had me yearning for change. I didn't know what that change was going to be, but I knew it had to be big.

The thought of signing up for kungfu school had been swimming around my head for about three years. A good friend proposed it as an interesting alternative to a post-grad education after I failed to raise enough funds for a Masters degree in Theatre.

I had a dream to pursue martial arts as a teenager, but my father at the time didn't encourage it. I've finally figured that at 30 years, I'm as old as I’ll ever be, but I’m also as young as I’ll ever get. And something as physically insane as Shaolin kungfu isn't exactly an idea that should be sat on for too long.

Right now, I am nursing a sprained toe, a weak knee, a pulled hamstring, sore hip flexors and more bruises than I can count. I punch trees and beat myself with bamboo sticks. I do wheelbarrows on pavement so hot that it makes my palms blister. I am pushed to my limits and I hide the agony until it escapes my lips in a guttural roar. If my mother were to witness what I am actually putting myself though, she would demand for me to take the first flight home.

But this is a golden moment for me, while my body is still able, to experience what regular people in a conventional urban environment would never think of putting themselves through.

My repressed tomboy adolescence is out in full swing. In kungfu school, there are no such thing as boys or girls– just a bunch of people eager for self-punishment.

My classmates are from the world over, mainly Europe. They work hard and play hard, and together we create a home away from home. Their company forms one of the most extraordinary parts of this choice of education. Some students stay for a month, others a year. The number of students is small enough for us to feel a huge difference in group dynamics whenever someone comes in or leaves.

Each of us made a decision to dedicate a speck of our lifetime to abandoning our comfort zone and escape to a random corner of the world to try something new. The chances of a kungfu school being our meeting place, only to have us eventually leave and probably never see each other again (together at least), must be truly minimal. It makes every one of these relationships unique and precious.

After my job resignation, I received two very distinct responses to my intentions of going to China. One was the gobsmacked disbelief, quickly followed by “Why?!” The other was the knowing smile and something along the lines of “That is so 'you'!” I acknowledge either reaction, grateful to have managed to establish myself as someone who does not hold back – the 'random' sort of person whom you get warned about making friends with.

Adrenaline kicks aside, the daunting process of learning new things is also a process of humility.... Of constantly breaking down and reconstructing one's reality to make way for new knowledge and ways of being. I can give a dozen reasons as to why I have taken up Shaolin kungfu, and boy, have I given my dozen.

But my main motivation is honoring the fact that at any age, we are all beginners at life. If you think about it, it is how much we embrace this advantage that defines how we will be remembered.

Profile

Davina is a Malaysian performer in theatre, musicals, film, TV, voiceovers and spoken word. She embraces human connections and simple pleasures. She asks: What are you grateful for today? Follow her at @duuuhvina.

All aspiring actresses should train in Kung Fu.

[wenshu]

He's an actor. He's not *that* interested in fighting. You think he wants to risk his moneymaker face doing Muay Thai?

Mickey Rourke's amateur boxing record was 27 wins and 3 losses.

[GeneChing]

Might I even say it was 'earnest'?

To be honest, I don't really know Hunnam's work in Anarchy. He was in Pacific Rim, but I didn't really make note of his performance there. It was obscured by giant monsters and robots. I suppose I'm pretty jaded after charting our Celebrities studying martial arts? thread for so long. So many actors will mention their martial arts practice like dropping a famous director's name, mostly to generate buzz on how hard they are working on the film. While it's great that they are endorsing martial arts (nothing beats a celebrity endorsement) they are essentially getting paid to practice and usually only maintain it for a few months during pre-production. That leaves me pretty skeptical. I should give Hunnam the benefit of the doubt, I suppose. However, if I just landed the lead role in 50 Shades, my thoughts would be towards a totally different kind of discipline.
Amazon MOther's Day Commercial (I would have posted the official SNL site vid, but it seems to be offline at the moment).

I'll add the next article that mentions Hunnam's martial inclinations on that celeb thread, and eagerly await to hear about his burgeoning amateur fight record.

[Alex Córdoba]

For more on Vidyut, see C, C2 & BR.

Ah yes, I like going commando, I feel superlative.

[JamesC]

Wasn't Hunnam a star on Queer as Folk before he was famous?

I think he's confused...

[GeneChing]

Luv the name "Shaolin Wushu Vocational Institute" This is wrong however: "And the Shaolin Wushu trained Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan and Jet Li."

Dispatches from China: At a Kung Fu school, the greatest show on Earth

Jamesville-DeWitt Principal Paul Gasparini poses in Beijing's Forbidden City. He is nearing the end of his weeklong journey in China. (Submitted photo)
Paul Riede | priede@syracuse.com By Paul Riede | priede@syracuse.com
on November 14, 2013 at 9:02 AM, updated November 14, 2013 at 9:04 AM

Paul Gasparini, principal of Jamesville-DeWitt High School and 2012 New York State high school principal of the year, is in China with other American educators. He has been sending dispatches back to The Post-Standard throughout his week-long trip.

By Paul Gasparini

Outside of Zhengzhou, in the mountain town of Dengfeng, sit the sprawling campuses of the Shaolin Wushu Vocational Institute. "Vocational institute" connotes a school for career training, and indeed this school does train its students. The training is not in auto technology or the culinary arts, however. It is in the martial art of Kung Fu.

Devotees of Kung Fu will recognize the name Shaolin. The Shaolin Temple is the spiritual home of Zen Buddhism. Think of it as the Buddhist Vatican. Kung Fu is the martial art that reflects the intellectual and physical discipline that Buddhism promotes. Shaolin Temple is also the name of a series of well-known Kung Fu movies. And the Shaolin Wushu trained Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan and Jet Li.

The Shaolin Wushu Vocational Institute is the single largest Kung Fu campus in the world. Boys and girls from ages 6 to university age stay in dormitories on campus and study academic subjects. But the focus of their education is the art of Kung Fu and all of their other subjects are subordinate to it.

When our tour bus pulled through the campus gates we saw hundreds of students in the training yards working through their drills. All of the students wore red warm-up jackets with Shaolin Institute written on the back and black sweat pants. Close to 300 students in a dozen or more groups were practicing different moves. All of them could do scissor flips! Imagine being at a school of more than 5,000 students in which doing a scissor flip was so routine it was unremarkable. For our group, that was the most remarkable thing about the school.

Down the road from the Wushu, which is the largest campus in the world, is the oldest Kung Fu campus in the world. That's the Shaolin Monastery Traditional Arts School. It has not been updated over time. The buildings are old and look like the tenements in a Jacob Riis photograph.

We walked through doorways that led to courtyards which were similar to the hutongs, or old and rundown alleys, that are off the side streets in Beijing. Our group was hustled into a performance hall that seemed makeshift. Our hosts announced that we would have a student demonstration. I can say with complete honesty that the demonstration was the most impressive show I have ever seen.

I have seen great opera, Broadway shows, and exciting concerts. This show was better, much better, than any of these shows, and it is no contest.

It was hard to get back to regular school mode after that astonishing day in the Shonsang Mountains outside of Zhengzhou. However, we did, and my final post will discuss that experience.

[GeneChing]

More of a travel brochure than a journey, but this is People's Daily.

Shaolin: Fists of fame
(China Daily) 09:17, July 28, 2014


Canadian Cale Klesko stretches and warms up his muscles with help from his friends before a kung fu class in the 1,500-year-old Shaolin Temple in Henan province. ZHANG LEILONG / CHINA DAILY

Ancient temple riding a wave of global interest in its style of kung fu, report Hou Liqiang and Qi Xin in Dengfeng, Henan province.
University student Maxim Kojevnikoff is visiting Shaolin Temple for the fourth time.
He had planned to join his friends in Wutaishan Mountain in Shanxi province, but decided to return to the renowned 1,500-year-old temple in Dengfeng city of Henan province.
"For me, learning kung fu in Shaolin is like lying on the beach and enjoying the sunshine," the 22-year-old Kojevnikoff said.
"Every time I return to Moscow from Shaolin, I feel rejuvenated."
The journalism major at Russian State Social University teaches Shaolin kung fu at a martial arts center in Moscow. He is still deciding between a career in journalism and martial arts. But he is sure he wants to continue teaching kung fu part time after he graduates.
Kojevnikoff is one of more than 2,000 foreigners who head to Shaolin Temple every year to learn kung fu. The number of visitors usually peaks during the summer vacation.
"Many come as a group. There are more than 20 groups every summer," said the temple's abbot, Shi Yongxin.
"A lot more come in twos or threes. There are such foreigners almost every day."
The abbot said many of the visitors also learn kung fu in the training schools nearby.
The visitors cite many reasons for going to Shaolin. Kojevnikoff said he heard about the temple and fell in love with martial arts after his parents sent him for classes when he was a child. His teacher later took him to Shaolin.
Canadian Cale Klesko said he goes to Shaolin to practice kung fu and Chinese culture, as he is dealing with an increasing number of Chinese companies in his work as an engineer in management consulting.
Kung fu also helps him keep "a balance between the body and the mind", the 30-year-old said.
Virginia Suen from Hong Kong said she learns kung fu to strengthen her body.
"I feel I am in good spirits after practicing kung fu," the 42-year-old assistant in an investment company said.
Many of the visitors also said they developed an interest in kung fu after watching movies about Shaolin as children. These include the 1982 movie, The Shaolin Temple, starring Jet Li.
Since 2001, Damo, a center for martial arts studies established in Russia, has organized kung fu students to Shaolin Temple every year. Rogov Viaches Lav, the chairman of the center, said at least 300 people studying in the center have visited Shaolin. The 46-year-old also said the center has trained more than 1,000 people in Shaolin kung fu.
Authorized by Shaolin, the center is now building a Shaolin-style complex in Russia.
"There will be Buddhism halls, training rooms, meditation rooms and a healthcare center," he said.
The facility will be built in line with Chinese feng shui geomancy concepts, he said.
The Russian said he developed an interest in kung fu after watching Chinese martial arts movies as a boy.
"Kung fu does not solely belong to China. It belongs to the world. It offers us opportunities to know each other. We should thank kung fu," he said.
The Damo center in Russia is one of the dozens of overseas centers authorized by Shaolin. According to Wang Yumin of the foreign affairs office of Shaolin Temple, there are now more than 40 such centers worldwide.
Shi Yongxin said there are hundreds or even thousands of Shaolin centers around the world, if "unauthorized ones set up by Shaolin's disciples and students are included".

Going abroad
More Shaolin monks are also going overseas to take part in cultural exchanges.
"About 400 Shaolin monks go abroad every year," Shi Yongxin said.
"In these cultural exchanges, we usually organize sessions to pray for global peace, cultural exchange forums, photo exhibitions and kaogong, a kung fu contest," he said.
Other activities include the annual California Songshan Shaolin Temple Day, which has been held for 10 years, and the Shaolin Culture Festival, which was launched in 2012 in Europe.
Shi Yanjia, a kung fu master at Shaolin Temple, began to take part in overseas activities in 2000 and has been to more than 10 countries.
"It's common to see some kung fu master going abroad for more than five times a year," the 32-year-old said.
Shi Yanjia is now able to carry on simple conversations with foreigners.
"I can manage simple exchanges in English," he said.
There are also English classes in the temple for monks once a week.


Cale Klesko, a Canadian citizen, helps his friend warm up before a kung fu session in Shaolin Temple on July 3.


Russian kung fu practitioner Maxim Kojevnikoff warms up in Shaolin Temple on July 3. (PHOTOS BY HOU LIQIANG / CHINA DAILY)
"No matter where you go, there are translators. But for simple daily expression, the monks can manage on their own," said Shi Yongxin.
"Shaolin Temple has emphasized exchanges with different cultures in its 1,500 years and held on to the belief that only communication can result in development," he said.
Liu Yi, deputy dean of the physical culture institute at Hubei University, said people can learn Shaolin kung fu in many training schools, but the temple is the most attractive place for foreigners and visitors because of the culture it represents.
"In Shaolin Temple, kung fu is combined with Chan Buddhism. It includes many aspects of traditional Chinese culture, such as having a strong sense of justice and being ready to help the weak," Liu said.
Many foreigners go to Shaolin not to learn kung fu to fight or defend themselves, but to learn more about these aspects of traditional Chinese culture, Liu said.
Hong Hao, head of the department of physical education at Henan University, said that Shaolin kung fu's combination with Chan Buddhism, which emphasizes meditation, can also make it popular in the West.
Shaolin kung fu can help people in the West who suffer from the fast pace of a competitive society by taking it slow to contemplate life and the value of their existence, he said.
Practicing the martial art can also help foreigners understand Chinese culture better through body language and physical expressions, Hong said.
But the temple needs to continue improving itself, he said. Many people teach its kung fu but there is no uniform standard. That may hinder its popularization, he said.
There are also no specialized teachers of the martial art. The monks are good at kung fu but they might not know how to teach it systematically. The temple also needs to pay more attention to the theoretical study of kung fu, he said.

[GeneChing]

"the first international participant to join the masters in front of hundreds of spectators" ha. been there, done that, wrote the book even.

21 hours ago
Aurora martial artist makes history with pilgrimage to China


Pilgrimage
Tim Wakefield (left) visited the Shaolin Temple in China’s Henan Province, considered to be the birthplace of modern martial arts, and trained under Sifu Lian-Fu Hou.

By John Cudmore

Tim Wakefield’s summer vacation was much more than a sightseeing tour or beach getaway.

The owner of Canada’s Black Belt Martial Arts Centre in Aurora strayed from the usual vacation plan in favour of a chance to visit the Shaolin Temple in China’s Henan Province.

It was a rare holiday stop, indeed, but one Wakefield, 41, told himself was long overdue. The timing was ideal, given commitments of other family members.

“As a professional in martial arts, I felt it was almost an obligation that this was at least something once in a lifetime to do and this was a perfect fit,” explained the eighth degree black belt in Shaolin kempo karate, whose visit included eight days on the temple’s grounds. “This was a deviation from the norm, as I was on my own.

“I wasn’t going to prove anything, but to learn what they could teach me to be better at it. It was a martial arts pilgrimage to visit the Shaolin Temple.”

The temple was constructed in 495 AD as a gift from Emperor Hsiao-Wei and intended to be the central temple in China to spread Buddhist teachings. Considered ground zero for modern-day martial arts, the complex attracts martial arts students from around the world for training sessions.

Participants are put through two, four-hour training sessions per day.

For his training, Wakefield was assigned to Sifu Lian-Fu Hou, a temple master, and was introduced to seven star boxing method. Later, he moved on to work with a chopping spear (long-handle broadsword), an apparatus with which he excelled enough to be invited to join the daily performances of masters and senior disciples of the temple.

He was later informed he was the first international participant to join the masters in front of hundreds of spectators.

“It was so cool, so awesome,” said the Newmarket resident. “There was a rise that came out of the crowd. At first, it was like, ‘What’s he doing here?’ The room sort of swelled. It was exhilarating.”

He was later asked to perform in two more shows. Only later did he learn of his exalted status in an email from Sifu Hou.

“I knew it was a rare honour, but to be the first (international) is an exhilarating, illuminating experience across the board,” said Wakefield.

[GeneChing]

Read From Shaolin Temple to DIE FIGHTING: An Interview with Fabien Garcia by Corey Danna

[GeneChing]

Fighting to get in

Martial arts centre welcomes students who research their disciplines and are prepared to wait for a master. Reports by Sascha Matuszak
PUBLISHED : Tuesday, 26 May, 2015, 10:47am
UPDATED : Tuesday, 26 May, 2015, 12:29pm
Sascha Matuszak


Foreign students make a gesture of respect during a graduation ceremony at Shaolin Temple on Mount Songshan in Dengfeng, Zhengzhou. Photo: ImagineChina

Shaolin Temple is arguably the most famous martial arts temple and training facility in the world. Dozens of movies, books, stories and legends surround the temple and the Buddhist monks, who have lived, worked and trained here for the past 1,500 years.

Legends aside, it is possible to learn kung fu at Shaolin Temple. There is a difference, however, between kung fu, wushu and sanda - three variations of Chinese martial arts that are distinct from each other.

Kung fu is best described as the all-round Chinese traditional martial art that incorporates fighting techniques, correct breathing and qigong techniques, and dance-like movements and routines that help students to memorise their techniques. Sanda is a combat sport that uses throws, strikes and some grappling, and stems from traditional kung fu. Wushu is performance art, basically martial arts dancing, that also stems from kung fu. All three can be studied in or around the Shaolin Temple.

Within the temple, wushu is the primary art taught to foreign and Chinese students. Wushu is a martial art, but more to do with performances than with fighting. Sanda is taught outside of the temple in martial arts schools - known as wushu academies - several dozen of which have sprung up around the temple in the city of Dengfeng. The largest and most well-known of these schools is Tagou Wushu Academy, which has about 35,000 students and is located right next to the Shaolin Temple.

Traditional kung fu is more difficult, as students must find a master and become his or her disciple. Those masters exist in and around the temple but, in order to meet them and learn from them, it is best to travel to the temple and enrol in either wushu or sanda, and slowly get to know the surroundings, the people, and take your time choosing a kung fu master.

That is not to say that the people teaching sanda and wushu are not kung fu masters. Some of them are, others are sports coaches. There is a difference between a coach and master in that a coach will teach fundamentals based upon competition, and the requirements of a sanda match, or a wushu performance. A kung fu master will instead pass on his knowledge of martial arts, usually with philosophy and culture included.

Students thinking of training at the temple, or in one of the nearby wushu academies, should read American Shaolin, which describes author Matthew Polly's wushu and kung fu studies there. The book is dated but still relevant, as there is still a lot of bureaucracy - fees have only risen, and the same confusion persists on what one learns and from whom.

There are hundreds more wushu academies scattered across China and the world that will claim some connection to Shaolin martial arts and the temple itself. So, potential students should see the school and its environment for themselves.

Coming out of the shadows

City grows in popularity thanks to its collection of cultural sights. Reports by Sascha Matuszak
PUBLISHED : Tuesday, 26 May, 2015, 10:47am
UPDATED : Tuesday, 26 May, 2015, 12:29pm

Sascha Matuszak


Shaolin Temple has significantly contributed to Zhengzhou's success as a tourist destination.

Zhengzhou is an emerging tourist city, one of the oldest inhabited areas in China and surrounded by living reminders of the world's oldest continuous civilisation. After years of playing second fiddle to other more famous areas of the mainland, Zhengzhou is finally coming into its own. It boasts the deep martial arts legacy of the Shaolin Temple and the ancient roots of Chinese civilisation in the Shang ruins and the Yellow Emperor. It also acts as custodian for the Yellow River, the heart of China.

Zhengzhou's newfound success can be attributed in part to the re-emergence of the Shaolin Temple as a cultural force and major exporter of Chinese culture. Although the temple has always been well-known, it is only in recent years that the tourism and training aspects of the temple have become seamlessly fused with the cultural and historical foundations of the area.

Economics and logistics are other factors. Zhengzhou has become a major rail hub in central China, attracting more investment from outside Henan province and giving the local government the ability to spruce up the city and add amenities and services. The first wave of development on the mainland skipped over cities such as Zhengzhou, but now the waves are crashing all around the city, leading to a renaissance that is bringing in visitors.

Zhengzhou was once the centre of Chinese civilisation, as the Shang dynasty and Yin ruins testify. These ruins were considered the stuff of legend until they were unearthed, revealing the deep historic roots and great sophistication of the political entities that ruled the regions between the Yellow and Yangtze rivers almost 5,000 years ago. Several other ruins and relics dot the landscape around Zhengzhou, including one of the most influential schools of ancient China, Songyuan Academy, and Song dynasty tombs.

Meanwhile, the Yellow Emperor, also known as Xuanyuan, has become an ever-more-revered figure in the city of Xinzheng, just outside Zhengzhou. Xuanyuan Temple in Xinzheng pays homage to the emperor and his contributions to Chinese civilisation. Combined with an annual ceremony that attracts crowds, the Yellow Emperor's hometown is becoming a popular cultural attraction.

Henan Provincial Museum is still a must-see destination in Zhengzhou. All the historical sites around the city are put into context there, and a wealth of information is provided on the earliest Chinese civilisations that flourished in the area. Two Tang dynasty pagodas across from the museum, accessible to the public, are a beautiful and fitting reminder of Zhengzhou's long and illustrious history.

The city is changing rapidly. A few years ago, this provincial capital would have had little to offer international tourists, but today it has a flourishing bar and nightclub scene featuring an attractive and diverse cast of people and locations.

The city and its inhabitants have also changed with the times, become more open and communicative with people from outside the province. Zhengzhou is modernising and globalising itself, and the feeling is palpable as the new meets the old.

More from Sascha here: New-Masters-Documentary-MMA-and-Kungfu-in-China

[GeneChing]

....and really tragic

China teen who drowned in Orchard hotel pool could not swim
The Coroner's Court hears that Wu Jintang, 15, had sneaked out with other students for a dip at Orchard Parade Hotel's swimming pool. He never surfaced after jumping into the deep end.
By Kyle Malinda
POSTED: 21 Jul 2015 22:17

SINGAPORE: A teenager from China who was found to have drowned in a Orchard hotel swimming pool in February did so after sneaking out of his hotel room with other students in a trip, the Coroner's Court heard on Tuesday (Jul 21).

Wu Jintang, 15, arrived in Singapore on Feb 12 on a cultural exchange trip with 26 other students and two trainers from the Shaolin Wushu Wenhu School at the time.

Investigation officer Senior Staff Sergeant Wong Yasong told the court that after a brieifing by trainers on the next day's itinerary, the students were to stay in their rooms at the Orchard Parade Hotel at night.

However, Wu sneaked out with several other students sometime after 9pm to go to the swimming pool at the sixth floor of the hotel. Closed-circuit television footage showed most of the students standing in the shallow end of the pool which was 1.2 metres-deep.

After changing into swimming trunks, Wu - who did not know how to swim - jumped into the deepest part of the pool which was 3 metres-deep. Brief ripples were seen afterwards, but Wu never surfaced and no lifeguard was present.

Wu's friends did not realise he had gone missing until 10 minutes later, when a fellow student brought him up from the pool bed. He was unconscious and as the students did not know how to administer cardio-pulmonary resuscitation (CPR), hotel staff were alerted. While waiting for paramedics, hotel staff performed CPR on Wu but were unsuccessful in reviving him.

Paramedics arrived at the scene within 10 minutes, at about 10.20pm and administered the use of an automated external defibrillator. Wu was sent to the KK Women's and Children's Hospital with zero pulse rate, respiratory rate and blood pressure. He was pronounced dead at 11.10pm.

A post-mortem confirmed the cause of death as drowning. No foul play was suspected.

Wu was also found to not have been suffering from any medical complications prior to the incident.

The court was told that there were signs indicating various depths of the pool at the side and that the pool slopes gradually. A line was hung across the pool separating the shallow end from the deeper side. Following the incident, the hotel has placed a lifeguard on duty at the pool from 7am to 10pm, with a security guard taking over after. A life-saving pole and hook have also been installed at the side of the pool.

Wu's father and the People's Republic of China embassy were notified of the Coroner's Court hearing but representatives were not present.

In a separate incident, a 12-year-old China national drowned on the same day Wu did at Hotel Royal in Newton. The boy who was in Singapore for a summer camp with other students, was found to have drowned at a part of the pool where the pool bed dropped to a deeper depth.

The case has been adjourned to Aug 11 in the Coroner's Court.

- CNA/eg

[GeneChing]

Not Dengfeng but still counts...

Shaolin Summer: In Search of Confucius
Posted by Intelligent Travel in Travel with Heart on July 21, 2015


Bamboo frames a Shaolin warrior monk practicing kung fu moves. (Photograph by Justin Guariglia)

By Kaylie Jones

We’re standing in a row like soldiers at attention. It’s the mandatory lineup, 8:30 a.m., in a steaming concrete courtyard at the Qufu Shaolin Kung Fu School. I can’t quite believe I’m here, in China, 330 miles south of Beijing.

The only time I remember feeling this anxious and uncertain was on my first day of preschool. Then, as now, I had no social or cultural reference for what was about to take place.

I look around for my 15-year-old daughter, Eyrna, but can’t see her. We’ve been assigned to different groups, which probably is good. I won’t be able to focus on her, which will make me focus on myself—something I both want and don’t want to do.

This adventure was her idea; she has been studying Chinese history, including the ancient Chinese philosopher Confucius, an advocate of self-cultivation who was born in the adjacent city of Qufu. I’m realizing I’ll need a lot of Confucianism to propel me through what lies ahead: four weeks of intense training under the tutelage of Shaolin warrior monks.

Sweat trickles down my arms, legs, and back. At 52, I’m the oldest student by at least a decade. The people near me, martial arts enthusiasts from around the world, appear lean and very fit, well prepared for the upcoming rigors. They’re not even sweating.


Gates punctuate Qufu’s old city walls. (Photograph by Robert Harding Picture LIbrary, LTD/Alamy)

What in the world was I thinking?

Eyrna and I have been on our own for months, since my husband, her father, was hospitalized for treatment-resistant depression. Looking back on this cataclysm in our family life, I feel now that we were standing on the deck of a sturdy ship that slowly was sinking—and even as the floor tilted beneath my feet, I refused to see it. In the end, I had two choices: go down with the ship or grab Eyrna and run.

We’ve run, thousands of miles from home and all that is familiar. Shipwrecked and clinging to each other on our little desert island, the two of us need both distance from our immediate reality and a goal, a new direction, to aim for. Pondering this, a wave of panic washes over me. Our sole connection to the place we’ve traveled to is our passion for martial arts, which Eyrna and I have studied for more than ten years.

If there is one thing the martial arts have taught us it’s that when you’re knocked down, you get up. Almost as important to me lately has been an accompanying maxim: There is no shame in getting knocked down. No shame. Still, a feeling of guilt, of wanting to delete the previous year of tumult from my daughter’s life, has plagued me. That is about to change.

Shaolin kung fu is the archetypal martial art of China, developed by monks at the first Shaolin Temple, established in the fifth century in neighboring Henan Province. It also is one of the most difficult martial arts to master. Shaolin monks begin training at age eight and practice eight hours a day for at least ten years.

This first week will be hugely challenging for me, but, with my years of training and the wisdom of Confucius’s teachings, not impossible. Still standing at attention, I repeat to myself, this was a good idea. Our shifu (master), a 34th-generation Shaolin warrior monk in his 30s, paces before us, assessing what he has to work with. Then he spreads his arms and shouts, “Go, go!”

Everyone takes off, sprinting through the gold-and-crimson gates of the school’s white-walled compound and into the surrounding Shimen Forest National Park. We’re running? I’m appalled. I haven’t run since college. Plus, my new Feiyue training shoes have no cushion in the soles, and I didn’t bring running shoes. I don’t own running shoes. How far are we running?

You can do this, I goad myself. You kickboxed six days a week to get into shape. You’re in shape.

The strongest students, whose bodies ripple with muscle, lope ahead like gazelles. They’ll be back at the school before the rest of us have reached the halfway point.

Local farmers and workers pause by the side of the road to watch the spectacle of panting foreigners stagger by. Their eyes linger longest on me. Or am I imagining that?

I’m not. Look, they’re laughing. It must be because of my age. In traditional Chinese society, I’m meant to be a grandmother, not a kung fu student. Then I recall a line in Confucius’s Analects: “At 40, I had no more doubts.” I’ll show them.

I pick up the pace. Green fields of corn on either side of the narrow road undulate in the summer heat. Sweat gushes off me. I feel ready to collapse, but my mind refuses to let my body stop. By the time I reenter the school’s gates, I’ve resolved to buy whatever running shoes I can find.

“How far did we run?” I ask Kiah, a 19-year-old Australian who is dressed in a collared shirt and long black shorts, like a proper schoolgirl. I barely get the words out between breaths.

“Two kilometers,” she replies. About a mile. “We run three times a day. That was the warm-up; now the training begins.”

My class is held in an enormous hall that feels like a steam bath. I’ll be observed, and judgments about my abilities will be passed. I spot Eyrna through a window; her group is practicing outside under a blazing sun. She moves with no hesitation, her kicks rising high above her head. She looks positively elegant—elegant, sweat free, in the prime of her youth. And happy. The sight energizes me.

Class starts with kicks and punches—straight-legged, bent-kneed, jumping—back and forth. I’m keeping up, though I’m leaving puddles everywhere. Push, I tell myself. Then a sabotage thought tiptoes in: Why? For what?

My father’s voice enters my head. A Golden Gloves boxer, gruff veteran of the Battle of Guadalcanal, and author of the 1951 war novel From Here to Eternity, James Jones, my dad, died at 55 of congestive heart failure.

I flash back to the time he stood in front of my eighth-grade English class and was asked, “Why do you write?” He answered with the story of British climber George Mallory, who, when asked why he needed to climb Mount Everest, answered—my father told the class of 13-year-olds, tears streaming from his eyes—“Because it is there.”

Well, I am here—and unlike Mallory, who didn’t make it down Everest (his remains were recovered only in 1999, by National Geographic grantee Conrad Anker), I’m going to finish this. Sometimes we have to travel halfway around the world to repair our souls.

To be up at 6 a.m. for tai chi, I go to bed at 8 p.m. Not Eyrna. My teen hangs out happily with the 20-year-olds, playing video games and watching movies. I had wanted this to be our shared experience, but she’s going her own way. As days pass, I barely catch sight of her. This makes me feel surprisingly alone but I leave her be, focusing on our upcoming visit to Qufu, just to the south, where I hope Confucian wisdom will rub off on us.

continued next post