For The Silk Road Kung Fu Friendship Tour Part 45, click here.
Beijing Shichahai Sports School and Splendid Conversations with thier Wushu Kung Fu Team Coaches and Athletes – Old friends and new
Believe it or not, about 10 or 11 years ago I trained with China’s National Wushu Team for a few months. Not full-time of course because of my teaching schedule, plus the fact that I was not selected to join that famed team obviously and so on, but I trained with their Sanda team a couple of afternoons a week. And so, it was with no small excitement I looked forward to visiting again.
This trip downtown was a bit different than my trip the previous week to the Chinese Wushu Association, because after getting off the subway I had an absolutely marvelous one mile or so walk through one of the most steeped in tradition parts of this city, “Old Beijing,” quite close to the Forbidden City very near the center area.
The Shichahai district has three lakes – Qianhai (front lake), Houhai (back lake) and Xihai (west lake). Sometime local people use “Houhai” to refer to Shichahai but the areas are a bit different while the lakes are connected via the ancient canal system. From time immemorial in winter people go ice skating here and in summer, swimming. It’s one of the best places to get the real feel for this venerable city from times long passed but still here today.
Speaking of venerable, very shortly after getting off the subway this charming gentleman invited me in for tea…
…and I almost leaped at the opportunity except it wasn’t open yet and I had a very important appointment at another very famous location nearby and did not want to be late.
So, with that thought in mind I kept strolling along until these things leapt out at me:
And even though I’d had breakfast only a couple of hours earlier, I was starving again and bought a green one to quench the fire and fuel my upcoming visit. What kind of idiot would go China’s national sports training center to meet the Wushu masters and classes, weak with hunger? Not this kind of idiot, that’s for sure.
And no, I did not “gobble it down,” but savored the harmony of flavors while continuing my stroll. What are those things? Sweet sticky things made with white flour and food coloring? Not likely. They’re called lǘdǎgǔn (驴打滚) or “donkey rolling” from ancient times of course, and the raw materials include rhubarb rice noodles, soybean noodles, sugar, sesame oil, osmanthus (a flower), green and red silk and melon kernels, with a bean paste. There’s no point trying to describe it, except to write “Heavenly!” And, they are only very slightly sweet.
This hopefully emphasizes it’s not where you go that’s so penultimately important, but rather how you get there. Why waste the infinite series of “nows” to attain goals that are really only part of that continuum anyways? What is the meaning of a story without context? Hence the value of leaving early so one can enjoy the whole process.
Finding the school’s front gate was easy but also along the way – very close by in fact - I saw another amazing location.
The residence of Chinese cultural giant Guo Moruo (1892 - 1978) who was a historian, writer, paleographer, calligrapher and social activist.
Before being his residence in the 1920s it was the residence of Yue Daren, founder of the Daren-Tang traditional Medicine company, and between 1949 and 1963 it first served as the Mongolian embassy in China. Wow! What an amazing house with a phenomenal history too! But I was a man with a mission and not to be distracted, even by the home of a cultural giant, medicine king and Mongolian ambassadors(!) and vowed to return as soon as possible.
Getting to the school’s front gate at precisely 8:45 am I informed the security guard I had an appointment with the Wushu Coach Tang. He politely inquired if I was referring to Coach Tang Hua; I politely responded in the affirmative and was politely asked to wait a few moments for him to arrive to greet me. Ah! The pleasantness of simple civility so often lacking in this modern world. It is wonderful it has somehow survived here in Old Beijing.
And, only a few moments later Coach Tang arrived and through the gate I went strolling alongside him. I explained in my best Putonghua that my Chinese is not very good, and I’d tried to find a translator to come with me, but everyone I knew was working given it was Friday. Though that may have sounded like my spoken Chinese is good, its possible word has gotten around about my limited vocabulary, complete absence of grammar, lack of knowledge of idioms, atrocious pronunciation, etc., or maybe he figured it out by himself. Who knows? (Probably the latter.)
A few minutes later we arrived at the entrance to an office with a small but comfortable tea table and some quite comfortable sofas as well.
We sat and he called another office to see if a translator was available and indeed one was. While we waited, I told him a humorous story (again in my lackluster Chinese) about my interview with head Sanda Coach Zhao Xue Jun at Xi'an Physical Education University in 2015, and his response to my questions were 1) did they had a massage department (?), and 2) if Sanda players got free massages?
I found out they did have a massage department, but the coach just chuckled at the suggestion the athletes should get free massages. That was the natural lead into a question I had previously not thought to ask here at Shichahai, but it seemed the perfect time anyways, and I found out Beijing Shichahai also has a massage program. And here, Sanda athletes do get free massages. Wow! How really nice. A pity I’m not about 45 years younger, Chinese and a super national champion selected from 1.4 billion people for the most prestigious team in entire nation. Darn!
Coach Tang made fragrant hot tea during this time and the translator named Irene showed up just in time before I had a chance to launch into another ridiculous story.
During our short 20-minute chat I found out he’s from Liaoning, a medium-sized province northeast of Beijing in what used to be called Manchuria along the border of North Korea and that he started out Taekwondo. He was also previously a professional Taekwondo Kyorugi (sparring) international competitor. In addition, I found out he’s the head coach and department supervisor for the martial art teams here at Shichahai and a true expert in the many kinds of Wushu and martial arts in general. I was honored to meet and have the chance to get to know him a bit.
During this time the Taolu (routines 套路) head coach came along, and followed our conversation greatly aided by Irene. Her memory for details and translation speed are really remarkable.
I found out that the Taolu Coach Lu Tai Dong is the Tai Chi coach for both male and female teams. I asked if would be okay to visit and check out their training. Fortunately, it was okay so we went to the nearby Taolu training center where I found out I had a lot to learn about the different categories and scoring systems in the Taolu world these days.
I asked about his teacher who I found out was Zhang Xiang Ming, age 60, who was in the Taolu gym observing the two major training sessions going on simultaneously.
Take a guess who his master was.
If you guessed Li Lian Jie (Jet Li) and so many other great masters. So, what I found here at Shichahai are second, and third generation links in a dynastic line of great Wushu Kung Fu masters and grandmasters. I asked if he was part of the international travel team, and found out, “Yes,” he was.
Another question I asked Coach Lu was, “Do the athletes choreograph their own Taolu or do coaches do it for them? I found out they choreograph it together, with the students usually selecting the music and basic outlines, while the coach ensures the movements adhere to the principles of the traditional forms and follow the guidelines of the judging criteria. Naturally I asked what those where, and found out there are three primary judging criteria, spelled out quite clearly high on the wall in the large gym.
In English that is:
- Motion quality
- Performance quality
- Difficulty
I asked Coach Lu about some traditionalists’ disparaging attitudes towards the new Wushu that permits innovative movements, and he said new movements are progressions of the traditional Wushu forms that absorb the good from all traditional styles.
This by the way, is one example of where a translator really comes in very helpful, because the nuances of that statement are beyond my vocabulary and syntax levels.
During my time appreciating the excellent technique of those practicing Taolu today, I also found out they have three main training groups: Tai Chi, Chang Quan (“long fist” northern styles that include Shaolin Quan, Cha Quan, Mizong Quan and others) and Nan Quan (southern styles that include Wing Chun, Hung Ga, Choy Lee Fut and many others). Both northern and southern Wushu arts have both internal and external styles, but southern styles typically do more punches and northern styles use more kicks. Also, southern style shirts and jackets are much more likely to have short sleeves or be sleeveless.
Also, there are male and female training groups within each of the three Taolu categories. My impression was that Tai Chi seemed to garner the most attention, as it too incorporates many styles into one, as I found out when I asked, “Which Tai Chi styles are you teaching?”
Thus, to be a master or judge of Wushu Tai Chi Taolu, it appears one must have expertise in the major routines of the five Tai Chi styles named after founding families: Chen, Yang, Wu, Sun, and Hao, and at least three other popular styles: Zhao Bao, Cheng Man Ching, and Wudang, with Chen, Yang, and Wudang styles probably best known here in north China at least.
I took classes in Cheng Man Ching Tai Chi, Hsing Yi, Baguazhang, and Bajiquan styles when I was in the US in the 1970s at different times and places. Here in China, I was fortunate to learn parts of some Shaolin Taolu, and interview and spar a little with for example a young Tantui master on Panshan, and young Bajiquan master some years ago in Changzhou as well. As for memorizing all those Taolu? I really don’t know how one person can do all that.
Add the wide variety Tai Chi styles and the many Taolu within each style, to the many Chang Quan and Nan Quan styles and many routines within each of those styles, and coaches and judges clearly must have a truly encyclopedic memory for Taolu. However, the three criteria listed above are the defining qualities ultimately judged, while keeping in mind the need for elements from the many taolu in each of the traditional styles.
In other words, it’s definitely not so easy as it might look to those unversed in the learning that must go into the athletes’ performances, and criteria the judges must use to allocate points to each competitors’ performance.
As with lǘ dǎ gǔn traditional pastries, the ingredients are more complex than the causal observers might imagine, and this writer suspects this might be one reason the IOC has had difficulty accepting Wushu as an Olympic sport: They might not completely understand it. What often seems quite straightforward to Chinese, is sometimes baffling to outsiders, with the writing system and even the ingredients for donkey rolling snacks as other examples.
I also found out all Taolu students here at Shichahai start with Chang Quan and from there choose another discipline if they so wish. The head coach for Chang Quan is Li Yan, and he was especially helpful in understanding these systems during my time in the Taolu training hall. I was quite happy when one of the older gentlemen passing through the Taolu class remembered me from years past. Things and people change quickly here in Beijing, but not necessarily in Old Beijing.
I asked about the size of their teams and was told they have 12 professional athletes on their teams and 47 young athletes who spend half their time in school and the other half training.
At this point I asked if it was OK to take some photos before heading off to the Sanda gym.
As descendants of the Wu Bin legacy of martial art masters, all team members must be extraordinary to get on this team, and no doubt have very bright futures in front of them. If the reader is wondering how the young lady in front in the photo above is balancing in that unusual position and looking so relaxed, he or she would not be the only one. I couldn’t figure out even before I cropped the photo. It might be one of those gravity defying techniques from Wudangshan. I really don’t know.
After expressing my thanks to everyone and bidding them “Zài jiān!” I was off to the next location, a vastly more civilized version of the ancient “ludus gladiatorius.”
The Sanda gym is closer to the front of the campus and very nice as well with the necessary mat floor as throws and takedowns are most certainly part of the repertory of Sanda. The first coach I met in this gym was Han Yu Zhu, Head Coach for the middle weights and I found out there are four coaches in total for this group, with about 45 – 50 athletes, and like the Taolu teams have a mix of professionals and youth students.
On my left they were mostly practicing wrestling and on my right standup Sanda kickboxing with focus pads taking a heck of a beating.
As a retired fighter from 1970 – 1984, this had a very home-like feeling for me, and it didn’t take long before I stretched at bit and played with one of the rather large heavy bags for a short while, working as always on combinations usually in strings of at least three to five strikes mixing high and low kicks and punches.
I was invited to “mix it up” with the modern-day gladiators, but since arriving in Beijing I’ve been bicycling a lot, swimming and jogging but haven’t yet found a good location near my humble abode for practicing kicks and punches so promised them, “Next time!”
At nearly the end of the training session just before lunch I volunteered to lead the stretching routine from Hatha Yoga that I modified for kicks called “Salute to the Sun.” I’ve taught that routine at dozens of clubs and even some of the national teams across the land and maritime Silk Roads I visited as well. It’s fun and feels good once someone gets the hang of it.
It is worth noting here that there are two theories regarding the origin of the legendary progenitor of Shaolin Kung Fu called Bodhidharma (Dá mó in Chinese), with one set of historical records stating he came from Central Asia and the another reporting he came from the south of India. Yogacara is a branch a major root or branch of Hinduism, and it would make sense Damo learned Yoga, as it is also associated with Shivaism, devoted to that Lord of the Dance and legendary warrior. Thus, learning a Yoga routine to help stretching for higher kicks should be well within the parameters of standard Chinese martial art training, in this humble narrator’s opinion.
Though observing and chatting about martial arts is always fun, the greatest fun is doing it, that’s for sure; even if it’s a simple stretching routine that does fire-up all Wushu systems.
But it was lunch time. They’d had an exhausting workout so I didn’t want to delay them. They were kind enough though to stop for a group photo and then, starving as I’m sure they all were, we all headed off to our next destinations. For them it was the paradise of wonderful food always served at top sports schools. And me? The former home of Guo Moruo of course, but that’s a story for another day.
Observing the training today they certainly appeared to be splendid athletes, and chatting with them after class they came across as quite normal cheerful young men. It’s wasn’t until I got back home and looked at the photos (see below) I realized: Mon Dieu! Most of them are giants(!) unless I’ve been shrinking and I don’t think that’s the case.
Everyone here impressed me in different ways. For example, the wrestling coach called “IDK” also appeared to be a master of judo. The tallest of the group standing behind me in the group photo below, Zhan Qing, was wrestling with him and it was very exciting; unfortunately, all the photos came out blurry, suggesting they are very fast. Another team member has really very good English. One team member that day had garnered the special attention of one of the coaches and was working at or beyond the outside edges of human abilities. “Bravo!” to both student and coach. Any coach that doesn’t “push the envelope” with every student from time to time at least isn’t doing his or her job. Only the hottest fires produce the purest gold.
So once again I had to bid another amazing team “Zài jiān!” but not before adding a few of them to my WeChat. I must admit I’d love the opportunity to be an assistant coach here at least for a couple of weeks. Modern Sanda training I’ve seen in many places over many years never, repeat never appears to incorporate some of the “old school” Kung Fu sparring training exercises I learned from my Hong Kong teachers in the early 1970s back when Bruce Lee was still walking the earth, and the students here might find some of them interesting, fun and most importantly - useful.
This was a very, very fun and exciting day for me. Thanks so much to everyone who helped make it a spectacular experience. And, with just a little bit of luck and help from upstairs, “I’ll be back!”
But for now… I’m off to another country in a few days. Do they have Rolling Donkeys? We’ll find out. Hold on to your hats, folks, this show ain’t over yet.
Afterthought
I tried translating this article into Chinese which wasn’t easy. One reason is humor for example requires highly unique juxtapositioning of concepts and words, and another is it seems most words in English have many synonyms or near synonyms in Chinese, partly due to the fact Chinese is a very old language. Take for example the word “cup.” Look it up on mdbg.net and you’ll find more than 90 Chinese words for “cup” and different kinds of cups.
I mention all this because I was looking for the best Chinese word for the English word: “venerable.” Microsoft translator seemed to think “kějìng” (respectable, honorable, reverend, and worthy) was best, though “gǔlǎo” (ancient, old, oldest, venerable, and archaic) and “dégāowàngzhòng” (respected, sainted, and prestigious) were offered as alternatives.
This choice of options reminded me of “fuzzy set theory” in math wherein the value of a set is sometimes (at least) determined by its fuzziness, and the fuzzier the better; as illogical as it may seem to the highly dichotomous mind.
The ongoing experience of life offers a lot more choices than “this” or “that,” so to speak, as the Tao Te Ching makes perfectly clear in its own infinitely fuzzy way.
The point of this meandering in linguistics is that the English word for “venerable” seems to incorporate all three of the above word choices offered by Microsoft translator, making it the fuzziest of options if Microsoft’s translations are correct, which is a big “if.” In any case I use many dictionaries and always need a human editor when I think I’m finished, because the syntax of every language is different, and idioms throw wild cards into every language. And then there are regional differences in the meanings of some words, and the meanings of words often change over time, especially in English.
I checked mdbg.net for the word “venerable” and found only 10 Chinese translations. I was surprised. The point of this afterthought? 1) translators have a challenging job, 2) never trust a single dictionary, and 3) relax a little and don’t worry so much about some of the details in life. On average most people are rather similar (especially within the different stages of life) and will probably figure out your intentions pretty quickly regardless of language and even exact word choice.
Though it is true liars tend to think everyone is a liar, thieves usually think everyone is a thief, and holy people can usually find some goodness in everyone, etc., etc., it’s also true most people just want the lives of the next generation to be better than their own.
Did I learn that at Shichahai? On one hand, though soaked in sweat sometimes, they’re living the dream and creating their own legacies for future generations to be proud of. On the other, one finds these things to be true everywhere. Xu Cai (mentioned in Part 45 of this series) was right. Wushu, and the philosophies upon which it is based, belong to the world.
And on that cautiously optimistic note, let’s call it a wrap for now, here in beautiful Beijing.
