Dinner with a Sensei; or, No, Sensei, No!

It is said, in Japan, that before you marry a woman you should eat her　肉じゃが [nikujaga] or meat and potato stew. This stew consists of potatoes and beef (or pork) boiled and flavored with mirin—a sweet Japanese cooking wine—and is a typical winter dish for Japanese families. This stew, it would seem, is the best way to judge what kind of wife a woman will make. That being said, Kashiwazaki Sensei has a fantastic wife!


A few weeks ago, the world-champion Judo player and current director of the bekkasei program at the International Budo University—Kashiwazaki Sensei—invited the foreign Judoka to his house for dinner. Besides the afore mentioned nikujaga, we sampled a wide variety of Japanese foods including sashimi, clams, oysters, tempura, fried sweet potato and fried rice. In Japan, it is not unusual for a Sensei to invite a number of his students to dinner; however, it is an honor to be served in the sensei’s home. The sensei/student relationship is sometimes more akin to an adult/child relationship in the west. Sensei sometimes treat their students in an almost parental fashion.



Allow me, now, to relate the importance that alcohol plays in Judo… and every other Japanese club, place of work, or group of people who are in any way socially related. Nomikais—or, drinking parties—are a common feature of clubs and work places. Basically, the members of the club or, alternatively, the boss and his employees will go out and drink themselves blind. There is much that can be said, both good and bad, on this topic. Some believe that it is necessary for Japanese people to become completely hammered in order to express themselves freely. Others say that the Nomikai is yet another form of social pressure in which you *must* drink because your boss tells you to. Many, though, see this as an opportunity to relate to your colleagues in a somewhat more relaxed environment.


In the case of our dinner—and subsequent round of drinking with Kashiwazaki Sensei—it was just a chance to have fun and, perhaps, for Sensei to show off his wide variety of alcohol. We tried, in no particular order: traditional Japanese Sake, called nihonshu (rice wine); a sweet version of rice wine known as amazake; Okinawan Awamori (with snake venom); a very rare umeshu (plumb wine) that cannot be purchased in stores; some kind of alcohol with flecks of gold floating in it; a number of varieties of shochu, which is a potato or sweet potato based alcohol similar to vodka; and, of course, beer to chase it all down. Kashiwazaki Sensei laughed joyfully and proceeded to pull out bottle after bottle while one of our members cried in panic, "No Sensei, no!" Sensei only grinned evilly and refilled our glasses.






Amidst the revelry, Sensei took out the medal he received when winning the world championship and passed it around for us to see. I personally feel that it is inappropriate for anyone but the world champion himself to wear this medal, but Kashiwazaki Sensei insisted upon putting it around each of our necks and taking a photo. So I did not protest. After all, this quite possibly will be the only time I ever hold a gold medal in my hands.



AS with many Japanese nomikais, its all fun and games until someone pukes over the Sensei’s table. This is the traditional sign, I believe, that the party has been a success and that it is time to go home. I have lived in Japan long enough, now, to know how to hold my licker, but one of our younger members is now proud to say he puked over the bean-bag of a world champion. Far from feeling embarrassed, however, we are all quite proud of our light-weight heavy-weight.

Please Don't Feed the Gaijin

AS part of our regular Japanese language class, twelve of us foreign students studying at the International budo University went to a local elementary school today, where we were put on display like a traveling zoo. The principal welcomed us warmly to the school and explained that the students, who were studying English, had very few opportunities to meet and speak with “gaikokujin” (foreigners). We were then asked to introduce our home countries… in Japanese, of course.


Before coming to Katsuura, I worked for two years within the Japanese education system. Though I worked regularly at a middle school, I had the chance to visit several elementary and high schools. In all honesty, elementary schools in Japan are one of the few places where children are encouraged to be children. From middle school onward, strict Japanese socialization is enforced and students’ creativity and independence are slowly crushed. Nevertheless, it was amusing to see that even third graders must make opening speeches, closing remarks and bow every time someone farts.




“So how does this relate to Budo?” you may be asking yourself. Well, after introducing our countries and teaching the students how to say “hello” and “good morning” in Spanish, English, French, Turkish, Finish, Dutch and Korean…. We were asked to demonstrate our hobbies. Specifically, we were asked to demonstrate Judo, Kendo and Iaido in front of a room full of Japanese children. There was something of the “Hey, look at the foreigner do Japanese culture!” feel about the entire situation. We had an unnecessarily long argument with our Japanese teacher when two people asked if they might demonstrate American Football rather than Judo.


My partner and I did, in fact, demonstrate Judo. In the above photo I have just completed a Haraigoshi throw—sweeping hip throw—and in the photo below you can see a little more of the environment. (For anyone interested, in the following photo I have thrown my partner with Sumigaieshi, a fun throw which involves falling backward and flipping your opponent over. The children quite enjoyed this one.)




Our demonstrations were very short and, afterwards, the children themselves showed us a wide variety of Japanese traditions and games. This was quite interesting as a third grader taught me how to fold an origami crane and paint the kanji for 光 hikari (light).
Finally, we sat down to lunch with the elementary school students. I can’t help but wonder if the children were warned, “Don’t feed the Gaijin,” as we ate the same small meal as the students with one small difference…. We all had to return to the University and begin three hours of training!

You Look Tired; Why Don't You Sit down?

My third partner for randori today seemed not to understand or, possibly, not to remember that I am blind. He grabbed me roughly by the sleeve to drag me across the room to an open space where we could fight. He attacked me very aggressively—which I enjoy—but when he threw me he would stand and wait, expecting me to somehow find him amongst the confusion of fighting pairs of judoka. In a word, he seemed reluctant to play me. As I stood up to continue our randori, the kid came in fast and immediately started fighting for a controlling grip on my sleeves. I pushed him backwards a few paces and, finally, caught him with kosotogari, putting my foot behind his leg as he stepped backwards and pushing him off balance. The kid toppled hard… right into a row of folding metal chairs.
The noise his fall made was nothing short of cacophonous and drew the eye of every person in the room. For someone who was already uninterested in fighting me, having a blind foreigner throw him into a row of seats was probably not his cup of green tea. AS he frog-marched me back across the room I really doubted I would have another chance to play judo… not just with him, but with anyone.



It has been too long since I last updated the blog. As this little glimpse into my Daly randori may indicate, however, I am still struggling to find acceptance in the men’s dojo. Every day I go to training, hoping to fight as much as possible. At the beginning of every round I walk into the center of the dojo and wait for a partner…. And, inevitably, the space around me fills up while I remain an isolated island. I realized last week that, on the few occasions that a Japanese Judoka comes to play with me, it is only because the sensei has pointed at the judoka and then at me, a silent order that he *must* play with me.
Though I appreciate the efforts that Koshino Sensei—the sensei in charge of the men’s dojo—is making, let me put the situation into perspective. People *only* play with me as they are obligated. When I walk to the center of the room and stand, hoping for a partner, people pass me by as though I were not even there. It is the most humiliating feeling, to know you will never be taken seriously no matter how hard you work or how skilled you might become. It is no wonder the Japanese have such a high suicide rate; no other culture I have ever before seen is as skilled as the Japanese at isolating and outcasting individuals. I am safe in the knowledge that, at the end of this program, I can return to my own country where I have friends and people respect the efforts I am making. Imagine what it must be like for Japanese who feel as I do… but have no home to return to.



When I train with the women, I am never short of partners. I realized last week, however, that one girl has been put in charge of doing drills and uchikomi with me. Perhaps my mistrust of Japanese people has infected me too deeply, but I can’t help but wonder…. Is this girl only working with me because she is obligated? Does she take me seriously, or is this an unpleasant chore that must be done? For the most part, the girls do treat me as an equal; but I must squish my pride down into a corner of my ego every time I play with the girls because the boys won’t accept me. I hold women’s judo in the highest regard and I do not mean this as a sign of disrespect, but I think most men would feel somewhat uncomfortable in a similar situation. But pride is something I’ve had kicked around quite a lot and I’m interested in learning Judo at any cost, so I’ll continue playing with the girls if that is what it will take.


I do not like to harp on the negative of Japan, especially in a blog such as this, but honesty is more important in this case and I have shown Japan every respect. I keep my sanity because I am surrounded by foreigners, sighted foreigners none the less, who are treated little better. I will try to continue this blog as before, focusing on aspects of learning judo, Aikido and whatever other martial art might come up. Every now and then, though, I must also update readers on the actual situation and experience I am living.

Speech at Applied Psychology Seminar; Nagano

On September 11th, I was invited to a seminar in Nagano, Japan, to speak about my reasons for studying the martial arts. Though the seminar covered various topics over the course of the weekend, Sunday was devoted to the topic of "disability sports". Since I am a foreigner with a disability who has altered the course of his life to pursue the practice of Budo, Kokushikan's Nakajima Sensei invited me to give a short talk. Below I have included my speech in both Japanese and English. My Japanese is by no means fluent, so there are some errors both with kanji and grammar.



はじめまして、
フクストラ、ニコラスと申します　今日は、自分の武道、合気道や柔道などを
しているわけについて話したいとおもっております。先に、ちょっと自己紹介をいたします。


七歳のころに、激しい頭痛がはじまって、大変な病気にかかりました。お医者さんたちは、いろいろな検査をしましたが、４ヶ月間原因を見つけられませんでした。やっと、視神経の後ろに、脳腫瘍が探し出されました。
三箇所の外科的手術が、私のいのちを助けました。
けれども、視神経は、大変傷つけられました。
三回目の外科的手術をうけてから、みえなくなりました。

とつぜん、人生が切り替わりました。すべてのことのやりかたがまたならわなければなりませんでした。点字の読み方から杖のあるきかたまで、
ゼロからはじめなければなりませんでした。
その上、薬のために、体がむくみ、病院に入院したときには、
体がすっかり弱くなって、自信がなくなりました。体の健康とメンタルは、強い関係があります。だから、高校に入ってから、
スポーツをはじめたかったです。

もともと、高校の四年間、レスリングをしました。けれども、大学に入ると、
授業で、すごく忙しくなりました。レスリングのような大変なぶかつをできませんでした。でも、スポツを鈴木たかったです。

大学の一年生に、初めて合気道をやってみました。そのときから、ずっと武道をしています。３年前、日本にきてから、柔道もはじめました。


武道をやっている理由がたくさんあります。ひとつは、私は、武道によって、自信をとりもどすことができました。
合気道や柔道をやっているときには、、障害を持っているかどうか、関係がありません。だれでも、強い点と弱い点があります。武道では、自分の強いところを使って、自分の弱いところをつよくしていくことができます。
資格を使わないのに、ほかの４巻によっております。とくに、触覚が大切です。
合気道のばいは、相手が、受身まで案内します。柔道のばいは、相手の動きを感じて、投げます。

ほかの武道をやっている理由は、もともと、合気道を始めたときには、皆と一緒に上手になっている目的がありました。二人で、技を発展しました。柔道では、やっぱり、だれかがかって、だれかが、まけます。けれども、私は受動を始めた北九州の同情では、お互いにてつだって、いい技を造りました。

この二つの理由では、武道をやっております。自分の自信をとりもどすことと、一緒で上手になる目的は、とてもたいせつでした。

ありがとうございました。

Good morning;

My name is Nicholas Hoekstra. Today, I’d like to speak about the reasons I am doing budo; Aikido and Judo. But first, let me introduce myself.

I am from Michigan in the United States. I’m 27 years old. Twenty years ago, at the age of seven, I began to have migraines and became seriously ill. Though doctors performed several tests, four months passed without the source of my migraines being discovered. Finally, a tumor was found behind my optic nerves. Three surgeries saved my life, but my optic nerves were already seriously damaged. From the time of the third surgery I was left completely blind.

My entire life changed in an instant. I had to learn ways of doing everything; from learning to read Braille to learning how to walk with a cane, I had to begin from zero. On top of this, medicines had left me very overweight and the time spent in the hospital had left my body very weak. My self confidence was gone. Both mental and physical health are closely connected, however, and when I entered high school I wanted to begin playing sports.

Originally, I wrestled during the four years of high school. However, when I entered University I became very busy with classes. I could not continue with a sport as demanding as wrestling. I wanted to continue doing something, though.
In my freshman year of University I tried Aikido for the first time. Since then, I have not stopped practicing budo. Three years ago, when I came to Japan, I also began practicing Judo.

There are many reasons to practice budo. For one, in my case, through the practice of budo I was able to rebuild my self esteem. When you do Aikido or Judo it does not matter whether or not you have a perceived disability. Every person has their strong points and their weak points. One is able to use their strength to fortify and improve upon their weaknesses. Although I am unable to see, I depend upon my other four senses. In the case of budo, the sense of touch is especially important. In Aikido, one guides their partner to take a fall. In the case of Judo, one feels the movements of their partner and attempts a throw.

Another reason for which I do budo is that, when I first started Aikido, the purpose of training was that everyone work together to improve their skills. Two people together work to perform a technique. In the case of Judo, of course someone wins and someone loses. However, in the Kitakyushu dojo where I first began training Judo, people helped each other to make better throws.

For these two reasons I practice budo: for the purpose of building my self confidence and the fact that people work together to develop better skills.

Thank you very much.

Hakko Denshin Ryu; A Gifted Instructor

I would like to revisit, briefly, the training I did in Hakko Denshin Ryu during my two week hiatus to the States at the beginning of August. This entry does not focus so much on the art of Hakko Denshin Ryu, but rather seeks to showcase the teaching style of my Sensei, Matt Pinard. Matt was kind enough to allow me to record a couple short videos during our last training session. The links I have put up are not intended to explain these particular waza.


Since the beginning of January—and until the end of March when I returned to Japan—our Hakko Denshin Ryu club consisted of three regular members plus our sensei. Having such a small group is ideal for learning the art quickly and, in truth, our sensei marveled at the speed with which we learned our shodan waza. Though Matt Pinard attributed our progression to our deep interest in the art, the truth is that Pinard Sensei is a very gifted instructor. His clear explanations combined with the humble attitude he adopts while instructing make an otherwise painful art enjoyable. More than anything, it’s the enthusiasm Pinard Sensei brings to the dojo that is contagious.



Pinard Sensei never hesitates to take ukemi himself. In this manner, he can feel both the pressure and angle of the technique and instruct accordingly. In this video:
Matt instructing wile I apply wrist lock and throw
The initial wrist lock is something Sensei and I worked on during the beginning of the class. In this video, however, we proceed to a throw. From the wrist lock, I pull Sensei’s elbow (holding the sleeve) to my chest and apply pressure to the back of the hand, forcing Sensei’s wrist to bend painfully inward. This is refered to as konoha. Then, again holding the sleeve, I lift the elbow high and, as though dumping a tray, tip the arm and throw Sensei to the ground.
Sensei shows definite enthusiasm as both joint locks and pressure points are applied. AS you can see in the video, “Nice! Nice!” means it hurts like hell. Nevertheless, I hold a very high respect for a Sensei who will actively participate in class and take ukemi for his students.


In this second video:
Matt demonstrating Third-Dan te-kagame from seated and standing
Sensei explains the origin of te-kagame (hand-mirror) as it appears in a henka-or series of moving techniques—we were learning. In the established series of waza, the te-kagame technique we were practicing appears as a third-degree, seated technique. Sensei explains both the seated technique and then applies it standing.

What I would like to further point out, in this video, is the stress Sensei puts on my understanding of the correct movements. Notice how he makes sure I have felt the movement of the elbow, insisting that I use my free hand to follow his movements. Pinard Sensei is extremely gifted when it comes to teaching in this manner.


One of my greatest frustrations when learning new techniques—or even reviewing techniques I have already learned—in any art is the fact I must wait for the Sensei to explain the technique and then rely on another student to transmit that technique to me as best they can. Pinard Sensei, however, almost always uses me as Uke while teaching. Though this can become quite painful, I find this to be both an honor and a sign of respect from the Sensei. On those occasions where Pinard Sensei does not use me directly as his Uke, he makes a point to explain the technique to me immediately afterwards. I believe, more than anything, this is the reason I have been able to progress rapidly in the art of Hakko Denshin Ryu.

A Privilege and A Pleasure

Between working in Spain and Japan and then beginning this course at the Kokusai Budo Daigaku, I have spent little more than six months in the United States during the past five years. Trips home, then, are marked by the scramble to visit friends and family and there is never enough time. I am a man of clear priorities, however, and my first stop after dropping off my suitcase—and putting on my gi—is the
Kyoseikan
Dojo of Grand Rapids.


I have known Sensei David Mata (2-dan, Bironkai of North America) since I first began Aikido at the age of eighteen. The summer after my freshman year of college found me with a new passion for the martial arts. I had been practicing Aikido for six months with the Yoshokai club of the University of Michigan and I couldn’t let the summer vacation pass without finding a dojo in the Grand Rapids area. After a couple “false starts” which I will not bother to mention, I found my way to the Toyoda Center.
It was Sensei Mata who first greeted me upon my entering into the dojo. At that time, he was teaching the Saturday afternoon class and he invited me to join. Over the next few months, it was Mata Sensei more than anyone who oversaw my training. I was impressed, immediately, by his attitude toward teaching someone with a visual impairment. Aikido, after all, is a martial art anyone can do.


When Sensei Mata separated from the Toyoda Center and founded his own, Kyoseikan, dojo in September of 2006, it seemed only logical that I follow him. Mata Sensei has been both my friend and teacher during these past nine years and has always encouraged me to pursue the martial arts in any way possible. As much as he has watched my Aikido grow and develop, I have had both the privilege and pleasure of watching Sensei develop as an instructor. Mata Sensei is always working to improve fundamental aspects of his own Aikido, never taking an attitude of superiority. Most recently, Sensei has dedicated time to the deeper study of kenjitsu and the ways in which the buki—weapons—relate to Aikido.



I had the great pleasure of spending some time this past trip home being thrown around by Mata sensei. I take a lot of pride in my ukemi (falls) and I was very pleased, therefore, when Sensei noticed my movements had become lighter and faster. I enjoy these opportunities to take ukemi as they challenge you to react quickly and rely on your instinctual feelings to guide your body. The slightest turn of Sensei’s wrist can communicate the direction or type of ukemi expected. For a visually impaired budoka, the ability to read an opponent or partner’s movements is crucial. Even in daily life, when walking with a sighted guide, it is important to understand the message conveyed through subtle body movements. The way a guide’s weight shifts from one foot to the other can communicate a step or change in the terrain; the sharpness of an arm movement can indicate surprise or distraction. Its amazing the amount of information we project in our slightest motion.
This is a video of Mata Sensei tossing me around:
Taking ukemi
A word of advice: Do Not, I repeat, Do Not do a full stomach work out at the gym immediately before a class in which you may have to take prolonged ukemi. I was struggling to get up from back-breakfalls.


It is so important to know that, no matter where I travel or how long I am gone, I always have my home at the Kyoseikan Dojo. For a real budoka, your dojo is in many ways your second home…. Or even your first.

Hakko Denshin Ryu; S&M Anyone?

You really have to be sick to enjoy this stuff as much as I do; why else would I willingly—eagerly—submit myself to the chokes, joint locks and other various ministrations of my friends both in Japan and the U.S.? Maybe I should be questioning the sort of friends I have! All’s fair in love and Budo, though, and my friends are always willing to submit themselves to equal punishment when the time comes.


I have written previously of my experience traveling to the dojo of Soke Yasuhiro Irie, founder of Kokodo Jujitsu, but I have not yet touched upon the Hakko Denshin Ryu Jujitsu I have practiced in the States. Hakko Denshin Ryu traces its roots to Okuyama Yoshihara (1901-1986) who dedicated his life to the study of various styles of bujutsu and oriental medicine. Okuyama Sensei, through government contacts, was introduced to Shihan Toshimi Matsuda and later to the founder of Daito-Ryu Aiki Jujitsu, Shihan Somi Takeda. As Takeda Sensei grew older, Okuyama Sensei found himself taking on more and more of the responsibilities for the daily running of the Daito-Ryu association. By 1939, when it became apparent that the leadership of Daito-Ryu would be passed to Takeda Sensei’s son, Tokimune Takeda, Okuyama Sensei began to split from the Daito-Ryu Association. He was interested in establishing himself as a master in his own right and, in 1941, performed a ceremony proclaiming the birth of Hakko-Ryu at the Shiba Tenso shrine.
On August 5th, 1997, an organization of Hakko-Ryu Shihans from around the world appointed three directors for the further advancement of the art. In a spirit of cooperation, directors Michael LaMonica and Antonio Garcia named both the American and European styles Hakko Denshin Ryu, the Heart of the Eighth Light.


In his life, Soke Okuyama Yoshihara studied Keiraku therapy (circulation medicine using the meridians of the body), Shiatsu (finger pressure medicine) and Amma (massage). The unique and most powerful feature of hakko-Ryu and its offshoots is the combination of the martial practices with the founder’s deep understanding of the body and its pressure points and meridian lines. A practitioner of Hakko Denshin Ryu is able to deliver varying degrees of pain to control an attacker; as one progresses in the art, the techniques require less effort and cause increasing amounts of agony. Unlike with many other martial arts, however, the techniques of Hakko Denshin Ryu leave no lasting physical damage.



In this video of my friend
Sam and I,
Sam has grabbed me katate dori (single, same side wrist grab). I circle the hand he has grabbed up and around and bring it to rest on top of Sam’s arm… effectively turning his hand sideways. I use my free hand to hold Sam’s hand trapped and create a point of locked joints. This can be used to move Sam around as it creates a rather sharp pain through the wrist. Then, I drive my arm forward and across the back of Sam’s elbow, turning his arm and shoulder toward the ground.
Once Sam is on the floor, there are any number of pins I can use to hold him still. Our Sensei, Matt Pinard, is showing me one such pin. If you listen closely, I ask Sam if it hurts at the end of the video…. He says that it does… actually, he says, “haiiii” in a rather cute voice.



In this second video,
Matt and I
Are reviewing two techniques we worked on this particular evening. In both techniques, you drive your knuckle up into one of the meridian lines underneath your friend’s arm. This line is referred to as shabori, I believe. I am still learning the vocabulary related to Hakko Denshin Ryu.
In the first technique, I simply throw Matt away from me. In the second technique, however, I keep control and bring Matt to the ground. Then, bracing his arm against my knee, I continue to drive my knuckle deeper while sliding it up his arm. Another nice little trick is to start cutting the knuckle toward the side of your friend’s arm while continuing to press it into the meridian. I use the term “cut across” because it does create a pain similar to having someone cut you with a hot knife.



Pinard Sensei and Sam are both great people to train with. We laugh as much as we cry during these sessions; as I say in the introduction of this blog: if you can’t laugh, then you’re not in good enough shape. This has been only the briefest of glimpses into Hakko Denshin-Ryu Jujitsu. If you practice Aiki-Jujitsu, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. If you don’t train in this art, though, it’s really worth the pain. As the pain fades away, it leaves you feeling a little giddy and exhilarated. Or maybe I am just a little sadistic….