少林寺伝統武術学院 写真集
学校の広場。こう見えても、少林寺の武術学校にしてはかなり小さい。基本はこの広場で練習を行う‥‥
‥‥が、雨天の場合はこうして「練功房」で練習する。
この二人と同じ部屋に泊まった。学校に滞在する外国人はこの二人だけ（韓国人にイギリス人）。今ではとても大切な仲間です！
散打少年よ、さようなら！また再会できる日まで。
2011年10月31日月曜日
少林寺伝統武術学院 写真集
October 31, 2011.Written in Shinyang, China.
少林寺伝統武術学院 写真集
学校の広場。こう見えても、少林寺の武術学校にしてはかなり小さい。基本はこの広場で練習を行う‥‥
‥‥が、雨天の場合はこうして「練功房」で練習する。
この二人と同じ部屋に泊まった。学校に滞在する外国人はこの二人だけ（韓国人にイギリス人）。今ではとても大切な仲間です！
それから短期滞在のオランダ人が数日来た。こちらは体重無差別の卓球大会。
この少年が僕と同時期に入門した（滞在予定期間は僕と違って数年だが）。とても仲良くなった。
こちらが散打コーチ。主にこの人に教えてもらった。とても格好いい人だが残念ながら写真写りが悪い。
当武術学校の師範。素晴らしい人間性を持った真の武術家だった。中国の武術界ではちょっとした有名人らしい。たった２週間だったが、とても尊敬するようになった。ちなみに後ろにあるのは、当学校に残された少林寺の古い技書だ。
最終日の練習風景。一番硬い人はだあれ？
前蹴上げの練習。極真と同様、毎日必ず行われる。
この写真、よく取れてると思うのは自分だけだろうか？ちなみにダッシュの本数は半端ない！
固い岩の上で拳立て。道場の柔らかい畳が懐かしいよぅ！！！
サンドバッグの打ち込み。ラウンドも何もなく延々と続くので一気に息を上げないように要注意！
サンドバッグがやっと終わったと思うと、今度はミット。こちらも一時間以上は続く。
暑くなるとみんなTシャツを脱ぐ。
来たときはまったくできなかったのに２週間でなんとかできるようになった。この写真は力が尽きた後で腕を曲げてしまっているが‥‥。
稽古後はいつもこんな感じ。韓国人のH君は稽古中もこんな感じだが‥‥。
散打少年よ、さようなら！また再会できる日まで。
少林寺伝統武術学院 写真集
学校の広場。こう見えても、少林寺の武術学校にしてはかなり小さい。基本はこの広場で練習を行う‥‥
‥‥が、雨天の場合はこうして「練功房」で練習する。
この二人と同じ部屋に泊まった。学校に滞在する外国人はこの二人だけ（韓国人にイギリス人）。今ではとても大切な仲間です！
散打少年よ、さようなら！また再会できる日まで。
2011年10月27日木曜日
Drinking tea and having lunch with the devils
October 27, 2011. Written in Dengfeng, China.
On our day off on Sunday, Michael, Hanwei, Rutger and me went downtown and bought ourselves some dinner at "Barbarian heaven". When we came back to school in the evening, one of the kids approached us saying something in Chinese to Michael and Hanwei, which resulted in a long and serious discussion. I wondered what it was about, and when I asked Michael he explained me that one of the Chinese kids that has been hanging out with us (the foreigners) had been bullied because of it. They called him a traitor to China, because he was hanging out with the "devils". Michael seemded very pissed about this; not because we were called "devils", but because it was sad that a boy would be bullied just because he was hanging out with foreigners. Gladly, though, the boy didn't seem to care and kept on hanging out with us anyway.
Shortly after that, the Master came to our room and invited us to come to his room and have some tea. I felt very honored, and modestly entered his room. He explained us how expensive Chinese tea can be, but because many people give it to him as a gift he has a huge collection of tea. I told him I knew all too well about tea being expensive in China.
After cooking some hot water, the master first poured half of the tea on the table for some reason. When I asked Michael, he told me that it was part of the ritual when drinking tea in China. When the Master poured some tea into our cups, we had to touch the table twice with two fingers, which is a way to show respect and gratefulness. The Master told us about how he hated it that Shaolin Kungfu has become so commercial the last few decades, and said that he felt it was his task to keep the real traditional Shaolin Kungfu unharmed. Therefore, he has been writing a book about true Shaolin Kungfu. He said that he also wanted to give more foreigners a chance to learn real Shaolin Kungfu in the future, and was therefore planning to create an international school.
On Monday morning, the hard training started again. In between trainings, I had a few sparring sessions with Michael. Apart from Shaolin Kungfu, he has been boxing back in England as well, and therefore his punches to the face were really fast. I also had the chance to spar with the coach who has been teaching me the last two weeks. He is a very quick and skilled fighter. Thanks to all these sparring sessions, I am slowly getting used to giving and taking punches to the face.
On Wednesday evening, we went to the Master's room to tell him that Rutger would leave the next day. The Master invited the four of us to have lunch with him next day before Rutger would leave. In his room, the Master showed us some of his moves. He has an incredible speed. I doubt that I have ever seen anyone that fast. I had to punch him once to the face, and before I knew it he had blocked my punch and gave me three or four back.
When I heard the alarm clock next morning, I really didn't feel like waking up to train. I was just so tired. The other guys in my room seemed to feel the same way, since no one even tried to move. Ah, let's just forget about it today and keep on sleeping, I thought, but when I closed my eyes, I started to feel so bad about myself that I couldn't sleep anymore. I didn't want to go and have lunch with the Master without even training. I jumped out of my bed, and left the room right away. Michael and Rutger also followed me, but Hanwei kept on sleeping happily in his warm bed.
On our way to lunch in the Master's car, everyone was sarcastically talking about Hanwei being such a serious Kungfu practicioner, but Hanwei didn't seem to care and just kept on laughing together with us. The dinner was great and I ate so much that my belly was about to explode, which made me worried about having to train again in a few hours. I didn't even want to think about it!
On our day off on Sunday, Michael, Hanwei, Rutger and me went downtown and bought ourselves some dinner at "Barbarian heaven". When we came back to school in the evening, one of the kids approached us saying something in Chinese to Michael and Hanwei, which resulted in a long and serious discussion. I wondered what it was about, and when I asked Michael he explained me that one of the Chinese kids that has been hanging out with us (the foreigners) had been bullied because of it. They called him a traitor to China, because he was hanging out with the "devils". Michael seemded very pissed about this; not because we were called "devils", but because it was sad that a boy would be bullied just because he was hanging out with foreigners. Gladly, though, the boy didn't seem to care and kept on hanging out with us anyway.
Shortly after that, the Master came to our room and invited us to come to his room and have some tea. I felt very honored, and modestly entered his room. He explained us how expensive Chinese tea can be, but because many people give it to him as a gift he has a huge collection of tea. I told him I knew all too well about tea being expensive in China.
After cooking some hot water, the master first poured half of the tea on the table for some reason. When I asked Michael, he told me that it was part of the ritual when drinking tea in China. When the Master poured some tea into our cups, we had to touch the table twice with two fingers, which is a way to show respect and gratefulness. The Master told us about how he hated it that Shaolin Kungfu has become so commercial the last few decades, and said that he felt it was his task to keep the real traditional Shaolin Kungfu unharmed. Therefore, he has been writing a book about true Shaolin Kungfu. He said that he also wanted to give more foreigners a chance to learn real Shaolin Kungfu in the future, and was therefore planning to create an international school.
On Monday morning, the hard training started again. In between trainings, I had a few sparring sessions with Michael. Apart from Shaolin Kungfu, he has been boxing back in England as well, and therefore his punches to the face were really fast. I also had the chance to spar with the coach who has been teaching me the last two weeks. He is a very quick and skilled fighter. Thanks to all these sparring sessions, I am slowly getting used to giving and taking punches to the face.
On Wednesday evening, we went to the Master's room to tell him that Rutger would leave the next day. The Master invited the four of us to have lunch with him next day before Rutger would leave. In his room, the Master showed us some of his moves. He has an incredible speed. I doubt that I have ever seen anyone that fast. I had to punch him once to the face, and before I knew it he had blocked my punch and gave me three or four back.
When I heard the alarm clock next morning, I really didn't feel like waking up to train. I was just so tired. The other guys in my room seemed to feel the same way, since no one even tried to move. Ah, let's just forget about it today and keep on sleeping, I thought, but when I closed my eyes, I started to feel so bad about myself that I couldn't sleep anymore. I didn't want to go and have lunch with the Master without even training. I jumped out of my bed, and left the room right away. Michael and Rutger also followed me, but Hanwei kept on sleeping happily in his warm bed.
On our way to lunch in the Master's car, everyone was sarcastically talking about Hanwei being such a serious Kungfu practicioner, but Hanwei didn't seem to care and just kept on laughing together with us. The dinner was great and I ate so much that my belly was about to explode, which made me worried about having to train again in a few hours. I didn't even want to think about it!
2011年10月25日火曜日
The flying Dutchman and the towering Frenchman
October 25, 2011. Written in Dengfeng
On Thursday afternoon, a foreigner came to watch our training. I had been told that he was supposed to enter the school that day, but after training he had already left, and when I asked the Master he told me that the foreigner would come back the next day. Michael was still in Beijing, which made me and Hanwei the only foreign students still at the school (Hanwei not even completely counting as a foreigner.)
During the next early morning training, the foreigner did not show up, which was not really a surprise, since training starts at 5:30 and ends at 6:40. After having had breakfast and rested for some time, the Master made me kick a tree from 8:00 until 10:00. In the meantime, the foreigner arrived and I saw him being guided by one of the students that speak a little (very little) English. When he passed by near me and my tree, I told him that I would be right with him.
When my training was finally finished, on my way back to the room, I bumped into the foreigner again and introduced myself. He turned out to be a Dutch guy as well, aged only 1 year older than me and called Rutger. We were both surprised by this coincidence, especially because I had heard that he was introduced by an American lady. Together we had some lunch, and talked about each other's travelling stories. He was travelling through China with another Dutch friend (who apparently did not feel so much for a week of hard Kungfu training), and had now entered the school for one week out of pure interest. He was not really a Martial Artist, but just a young sports-lover interested in Chinese culture.
He joined me and my Sanda class that afternoon. It was quite different to have another foreigner in the class, especially someone from the same country. He had never punched before and therefore hurt his arm while hitting the mitts, which resulted in his not being able to do any push-ups and punches with his right arm for the next few days.
The next Saturday, we woke up together to go to early morning training, leaving Hanwei in his bed. This day, the Master had not woken up for early morning practice (something that had never happened before) and we left without him. Without the Master's presence though, many of the students were not as serious as usual, which resulted in a mild early morning training.
During the morning training starting from 8:00 until 10:00, my Sanda class kicked some more mitts, and I felt my peak of tiredness coming. Good thing that Saturday was only a half-day, as Michael had told me.
Just when I came back from morning training terribly exhausted, the Master knocked on our door. Oh no! Please tell me it's not the tree again!
He told us to come with him, and lead us into his room. Inside, there were four or five foreigners, one being a huge black guy. The translator in the room told me that he was a French professional NBA player called Mickael Pietrus. He had come here to have a look at the training, and asked me what I had come to do here. The school organised a special show for him and his crew. Me, Hanwei, Rutger and some other students from the school also came to watch this show. Just like the day that the American camera team came, the performance was a lot different from normal practice, but definitely the perfect way to show off. Mickael was really impressed, and said that he wanted to practice too. We talked some more, and I took a picture together with the giant.
After the giant had left, we went back to our room to have some rest. Saturday was supposed to be a half day, so we were now free until Monday morning. The exhausted Rutger fell down on his bed and was sleeping before we knew it. Me and Hanwei were enjoying a few games, until suddenly the school bell rang.
"Isn't the training done for today?" I asked Hanwei.
"Yes, it is," he said, but I knew only too well that for him training never starts.
Shortly after that, I started to hear the students running outside. Somehow, training had started again. I woke up Rutger to tell him this, but he was too tired to go on. He had just arrived the day before, so all this training coming at him at once just was a bit too much.
I left off to Sanda class, and had my afternoon practice from 2:00 to 5:30. As always, my lazy partner didn't want to train, and made me do all sorts of crazy things while he was just resting himself. But somehow, I didn't feel so tired. At some point, when you go beyond your peak, you just forget about everything, and go on and on.
Late that evening, Michael came back from Beijing. Now, for the first time, our room was completely full, and with the 4 of us, I knew that in the next few days we would become a great team.
On Thursday afternoon, a foreigner came to watch our training. I had been told that he was supposed to enter the school that day, but after training he had already left, and when I asked the Master he told me that the foreigner would come back the next day. Michael was still in Beijing, which made me and Hanwei the only foreign students still at the school (Hanwei not even completely counting as a foreigner.)
During the next early morning training, the foreigner did not show up, which was not really a surprise, since training starts at 5:30 and ends at 6:40. After having had breakfast and rested for some time, the Master made me kick a tree from 8:00 until 10:00. In the meantime, the foreigner arrived and I saw him being guided by one of the students that speak a little (very little) English. When he passed by near me and my tree, I told him that I would be right with him.
When my training was finally finished, on my way back to the room, I bumped into the foreigner again and introduced myself. He turned out to be a Dutch guy as well, aged only 1 year older than me and called Rutger. We were both surprised by this coincidence, especially because I had heard that he was introduced by an American lady. Together we had some lunch, and talked about each other's travelling stories. He was travelling through China with another Dutch friend (who apparently did not feel so much for a week of hard Kungfu training), and had now entered the school for one week out of pure interest. He was not really a Martial Artist, but just a young sports-lover interested in Chinese culture.
He joined me and my Sanda class that afternoon. It was quite different to have another foreigner in the class, especially someone from the same country. He had never punched before and therefore hurt his arm while hitting the mitts, which resulted in his not being able to do any push-ups and punches with his right arm for the next few days.
The next Saturday, we woke up together to go to early morning training, leaving Hanwei in his bed. This day, the Master had not woken up for early morning practice (something that had never happened before) and we left without him. Without the Master's presence though, many of the students were not as serious as usual, which resulted in a mild early morning training.
During the morning training starting from 8:00 until 10:00, my Sanda class kicked some more mitts, and I felt my peak of tiredness coming. Good thing that Saturday was only a half-day, as Michael had told me.
Just when I came back from morning training terribly exhausted, the Master knocked on our door. Oh no! Please tell me it's not the tree again!
He told us to come with him, and lead us into his room. Inside, there were four or five foreigners, one being a huge black guy. The translator in the room told me that he was a French professional NBA player called Mickael Pietrus. He had come here to have a look at the training, and asked me what I had come to do here. The school organised a special show for him and his crew. Me, Hanwei, Rutger and some other students from the school also came to watch this show. Just like the day that the American camera team came, the performance was a lot different from normal practice, but definitely the perfect way to show off. Mickael was really impressed, and said that he wanted to practice too. We talked some more, and I took a picture together with the giant.
After the giant had left, we went back to our room to have some rest. Saturday was supposed to be a half day, so we were now free until Monday morning. The exhausted Rutger fell down on his bed and was sleeping before we knew it. Me and Hanwei were enjoying a few games, until suddenly the school bell rang.
"Isn't the training done for today?" I asked Hanwei.
"Yes, it is," he said, but I knew only too well that for him training never starts.
Shortly after that, I started to hear the students running outside. Somehow, training had started again. I woke up Rutger to tell him this, but he was too tired to go on. He had just arrived the day before, so all this training coming at him at once just was a bit too much.
I left off to Sanda class, and had my afternoon practice from 2:00 to 5:30. As always, my lazy partner didn't want to train, and made me do all sorts of crazy things while he was just resting himself. But somehow, I didn't feel so tired. At some point, when you go beyond your peak, you just forget about everything, and go on and on.
Late that evening, Michael came back from Beijing. Now, for the first time, our room was completely full, and with the 4 of us, I knew that in the next few days we would become a great team.
2011年10月21日金曜日
The master's teaching
October 21, 2011. Written in Dengfeng, China
While I was practicing blocking high kicks with my Sanda class, all of a sudden the master appeared in front of us and started to teach. Different from the Sanda coach (who is basically just enjoying his high position and makes use of it by hitting the students), I felt a strong eagerness in teaching and a serious devotion to martial arts. Most of the students here are sent by their parents, and actually don't enjoy being here (I remember Michael telling me that some even try to sneak out), which made me feel sorry for the master teaching with so much devotion. Of course the students know that they will get hit if they don't practice seriously so they do pretend, but there is no enthusiasm in their movements (of course, with a few exceptions). That being said, the master just kept teaching while smiling, until everyone (including me) was so tired that they couldn't go on.
After training, on my way back from dinner at the canteen, I bumped into the master. He gave me a can of Red Bull and asked me if my muscle pain was not too bad.
That day, Michael and Hanwei had gone downtown and skipped training (Michael to buy a ticket to go to Beijing, Hanwei without a reason) and I was alone in the room. I put on the PS2 and played some games until they came back.
The next day, Michael would leave for Beijing (coming back on Saturday) so he decided to rest and stay in bed while I left for morning training. Again, Hanwei also stayed in bed, but without a good reason.
During daytime, the master came to look after our Sanda class again, and started teaching blocking techniques again. And just like the day before, after training and dinner I would bump into him, and this time he gave me some mandarins. Back in the room, I found Hanwei playing games again. He ate half of my mandarins. Michael had left for Beijing, so now it was just the 2 of us. Together, we played some games and had a lot of fun. Until we heard the master scream "Hanwei!!" from outside, that was. Hanwei went outside, and I was left alone in the room. I expected a shocked Hanwei to come back, but after about 10 minutes he came back with a smile on his face and said something like "Sorry! Let's continue our game!"
While I was practicing blocking high kicks with my Sanda class, all of a sudden the master appeared in front of us and started to teach. Different from the Sanda coach (who is basically just enjoying his high position and makes use of it by hitting the students), I felt a strong eagerness in teaching and a serious devotion to martial arts. Most of the students here are sent by their parents, and actually don't enjoy being here (I remember Michael telling me that some even try to sneak out), which made me feel sorry for the master teaching with so much devotion. Of course the students know that they will get hit if they don't practice seriously so they do pretend, but there is no enthusiasm in their movements (of course, with a few exceptions). That being said, the master just kept teaching while smiling, until everyone (including me) was so tired that they couldn't go on.
After training, on my way back from dinner at the canteen, I bumped into the master. He gave me a can of Red Bull and asked me if my muscle pain was not too bad.
That day, Michael and Hanwei had gone downtown and skipped training (Michael to buy a ticket to go to Beijing, Hanwei without a reason) and I was alone in the room. I put on the PS2 and played some games until they came back.
The next day, Michael would leave for Beijing (coming back on Saturday) so he decided to rest and stay in bed while I left for morning training. Again, Hanwei also stayed in bed, but without a good reason.
During daytime, the master came to look after our Sanda class again, and started teaching blocking techniques again. And just like the day before, after training and dinner I would bump into him, and this time he gave me some mandarins. Back in the room, I found Hanwei playing games again. He ate half of my mandarins. Michael had left for Beijing, so now it was just the 2 of us. Together, we played some games and had a lot of fun. Until we heard the master scream "Hanwei!!" from outside, that was. Hanwei went outside, and I was left alone in the room. I expected a shocked Hanwei to come back, but after about 10 minutes he came back with a smile on his face and said something like "Sorry! Let's continue our game!"
2011年10月20日木曜日
Jumping and sparring
October 20, 2011. Written in Dengfeng, China
Tuesday afternoon, my Sanda team was joining the acrobatics class. Normally, I would have hated that because I cannot do anything acrobatic at all, but at that point, anything sounded better than another session with the sandbags. Together with all the acrobatics monk-like kids with their heads shaved, us, the punk-like Sanda team, made all sorts of crazy tornado jumps and somersaults. Everyone but me, that is...
I was not even able to land on my legs doing a normal somersault, but everyone was polite and no one laughed at me. That being said, some of the guys (especially the coaches) had an amazing flexibility and jumping skills allowing them to easily perform 3 somersaults in a row. It was really impressive to see. While practicing Karate in Japan, I was always somewhat (while knowing my weak points) confident about my skills, but here everything I do seems to be nothing compared to what they can do.
After having had a 15 minute break and going back, the Sanda team left the acrobatics class. Everyone was now wearing gloves and kneepads. Yes, finally it was time for some sparring! My body was already full of muscle pain and I was not able to use my body as fast and accurately as I wanted to, but I still tried my best. I sparred the 17-year old guy that has been my partner for the last few days. He had far more speed than me, and also had more strength. His high kicks were so fast that I was almost too late to block them, but everytime his shins hit my arm he would show me a painful face. I remembered Michael telling me that they don't train their shins and arm-bones here. That might be their only weakness, I thought. I was far less skillful than him, but at least I have hardened my bones by kicking and punching heavy bags and iron pipes. While starting to get some confidence, though, the guy punched me full in the face 3 or 4 times. So this was what it was like to get punched in the face. I tried to kick him back to the face, but he took my leg and tried to throw me down. I grabbed his T-shirt to prevent myself from falling, which resulted in some clinch fighting.
After something like 30 seconds, the guy said he was tired and didn't want to go on. The coach gave him a hit with his stick, but he didn't stand up until a few minutes had passed. When he finally stood up, he had enough again after 10 seconds. Things kept going on like that for a while until he tried to give me a low kick which I blocked with my shin. He said that he had hurt his leg and was not able to go on.
Having lost my opponent, I watched the other guys sparring. Their punches and kicks looked very wild and uncontrolled, but speedy and powerful at the same time. They hit each other in the face with full power. When sparring in Karate, you normally don't use so much strength in order to improve your skills, but here they seemed to not care about that. Whenever there was something about the sparring that the coach didn't like, he would stare at the students with his scary eyes, and hit them with the stick so that they would try better next time.
My first experience of sparring in Sanda made me feel the big difference between styles. People often like to wonder which style is the strongest, but I realised that that is not what is important. Without knowing each other's style, things can go wrong and accidents might occur.
Me and my lazy sparring partner.
Tuesday afternoon, my Sanda team was joining the acrobatics class. Normally, I would have hated that because I cannot do anything acrobatic at all, but at that point, anything sounded better than another session with the sandbags. Together with all the acrobatics monk-like kids with their heads shaved, us, the punk-like Sanda team, made all sorts of crazy tornado jumps and somersaults. Everyone but me, that is...
I was not even able to land on my legs doing a normal somersault, but everyone was polite and no one laughed at me. That being said, some of the guys (especially the coaches) had an amazing flexibility and jumping skills allowing them to easily perform 3 somersaults in a row. It was really impressive to see. While practicing Karate in Japan, I was always somewhat (while knowing my weak points) confident about my skills, but here everything I do seems to be nothing compared to what they can do.
After having had a 15 minute break and going back, the Sanda team left the acrobatics class. Everyone was now wearing gloves and kneepads. Yes, finally it was time for some sparring! My body was already full of muscle pain and I was not able to use my body as fast and accurately as I wanted to, but I still tried my best. I sparred the 17-year old guy that has been my partner for the last few days. He had far more speed than me, and also had more strength. His high kicks were so fast that I was almost too late to block them, but everytime his shins hit my arm he would show me a painful face. I remembered Michael telling me that they don't train their shins and arm-bones here. That might be their only weakness, I thought. I was far less skillful than him, but at least I have hardened my bones by kicking and punching heavy bags and iron pipes. While starting to get some confidence, though, the guy punched me full in the face 3 or 4 times. So this was what it was like to get punched in the face. I tried to kick him back to the face, but he took my leg and tried to throw me down. I grabbed his T-shirt to prevent myself from falling, which resulted in some clinch fighting.
After something like 30 seconds, the guy said he was tired and didn't want to go on. The coach gave him a hit with his stick, but he didn't stand up until a few minutes had passed. When he finally stood up, he had enough again after 10 seconds. Things kept going on like that for a while until he tried to give me a low kick which I blocked with my shin. He said that he had hurt his leg and was not able to go on.
Having lost my opponent, I watched the other guys sparring. Their punches and kicks looked very wild and uncontrolled, but speedy and powerful at the same time. They hit each other in the face with full power. When sparring in Karate, you normally don't use so much strength in order to improve your skills, but here they seemed to not care about that. Whenever there was something about the sparring that the coach didn't like, he would stare at the students with his scary eyes, and hit them with the stick so that they would try better next time.
My first experience of sparring in Sanda made me feel the big difference between styles. People often like to wonder which style is the strongest, but I realised that that is not what is important. Without knowing each other's style, things can go wrong and accidents might occur.
2011年10月19日水曜日
Whacking in front of the Americans.
October 19, 2011. Written in Dengfeng, China.
Monday was my first full weekday to spend at the Shaolin Kungfu school. At 5:20, Hanwei's alarm clock rang like nuts. For a moment, I thought a huge bomb had exploded. Michael and I got out of our beds right away, and left Hanwei still snoring peacefully in his bed. It was still dark outside, but the whole school was already lining up at the center square. We started running on a path that should lead us to the top of a mountain. But, while other groups went to the top of the mountain, my group (the Sanda group) didn't, and started all sorts of exercises halfway, like sprinting, jumping and kicking. By the way, it is interesting that only the Sanda group somehow do not shave their heads and some of them even have long hair. It is almost as if they are the only ones who are free in choosing their own hairstyle.
After an hour and a half of training, we came back to the school and had some breakfast. The master of the school approached me, and Michael translated. The master told me that I could ask whatever I wanted if I had a question. I told him that I had problems with a certain side-kick they do here, and while hearing Hanwei's snoring in the background, the master explained me about this kick.
During the afternoon practice, I noticed that the master and Michael were not there. Apart from that, except for the Sanda team, most of the students were wearing their traditional wear, whereas normally they are just wearing T-shirts.
I was doing some mittwork with my Sanda class, and like before, there seemed to be no end to it. After about one hour, the master and Michael came back with the school van, and an American camera team inside. Michael told me later that they were making a documentary on Shaolin Kungfu. When one of the Americans asked Michael about "that foreigner over there", he told them that I was a Kyokushin fighter who had lived 8 years in Japan.
"So many good stories here!" the American said.
In front of the American, the students started to show all sorts of traditional forms, acrobatics and fights. It was obvious that they were doing this especially for the Americans, because it was very different from their normal practice.
The Sanda team was now going to punch some sandbags, but before doing so, we first had to hang them on some bars, which was not as easy as it sounds. The bags fell off the bar quite easily, and we had to stop punching often, but maybe we were better off that way since the training was exausting. Whereas in Japan (and in most parts of the world for as far as I hear) we do rounds, here they just keep on whacking and whacking. There are no rounds or whatsoever, and you just have to keep punching the bag for hours and hours. Everyone took off their T-shirts, and while receiving hits from the teachers stick, we kept on punching.
After the training was finally done I had my dinner, but again I had difficulty holding my chopsticks. The master and Michael had left somewhere with the Americans, so me and Hanwei had to spend the night just with the two of us. When Michael is there to translate, it is great fun to be with Hanwei, but now we felt the hugeness of the language barrier between us. When Michael came back at around 9, we both felt a huge relief. That Michael must really be a treasure to this school. He can translate and help all the foreigners who come here feel to comfortable because he is so helpful in everything. He is going to leave for Beijing for a couple of days, and it is going to be a challenge for me to get along on my own in the meantime!
Monday was my first full weekday to spend at the Shaolin Kungfu school. At 5:20, Hanwei's alarm clock rang like nuts. For a moment, I thought a huge bomb had exploded. Michael and I got out of our beds right away, and left Hanwei still snoring peacefully in his bed. It was still dark outside, but the whole school was already lining up at the center square. We started running on a path that should lead us to the top of a mountain. But, while other groups went to the top of the mountain, my group (the Sanda group) didn't, and started all sorts of exercises halfway, like sprinting, jumping and kicking. By the way, it is interesting that only the Sanda group somehow do not shave their heads and some of them even have long hair. It is almost as if they are the only ones who are free in choosing their own hairstyle.
After an hour and a half of training, we came back to the school and had some breakfast. The master of the school approached me, and Michael translated. The master told me that I could ask whatever I wanted if I had a question. I told him that I had problems with a certain side-kick they do here, and while hearing Hanwei's snoring in the background, the master explained me about this kick.
During the afternoon practice, I noticed that the master and Michael were not there. Apart from that, except for the Sanda team, most of the students were wearing their traditional wear, whereas normally they are just wearing T-shirts.
I was doing some mittwork with my Sanda class, and like before, there seemed to be no end to it. After about one hour, the master and Michael came back with the school van, and an American camera team inside. Michael told me later that they were making a documentary on Shaolin Kungfu. When one of the Americans asked Michael about "that foreigner over there", he told them that I was a Kyokushin fighter who had lived 8 years in Japan.
"So many good stories here!" the American said.
In front of the American, the students started to show all sorts of traditional forms, acrobatics and fights. It was obvious that they were doing this especially for the Americans, because it was very different from their normal practice.
The Sanda team was now going to punch some sandbags, but before doing so, we first had to hang them on some bars, which was not as easy as it sounds. The bags fell off the bar quite easily, and we had to stop punching often, but maybe we were better off that way since the training was exausting. Whereas in Japan (and in most parts of the world for as far as I hear) we do rounds, here they just keep on whacking and whacking. There are no rounds or whatsoever, and you just have to keep punching the bag for hours and hours. Everyone took off their T-shirts, and while receiving hits from the teachers stick, we kept on punching.
After the training was finally done I had my dinner, but again I had difficulty holding my chopsticks. The master and Michael had left somewhere with the Americans, so me and Hanwei had to spend the night just with the two of us. When Michael is there to translate, it is great fun to be with Hanwei, but now we felt the hugeness of the language barrier between us. When Michael came back at around 9, we both felt a huge relief. That Michael must really be a treasure to this school. He can translate and help all the foreigners who come here feel to comfortable because he is so helpful in everything. He is going to leave for Beijing for a couple of days, and it is going to be a challenge for me to get along on my own in the meantime!
2011年10月18日火曜日
Shaolin Monks playing video games and a place called heaven
October 18, 2011. Written in Dengfeng, China
On Saturday morning, my first so called "early morning practice" at the Shaolin school was supposed to start at 5:30. I heard the mobile phone of Michael (an Englishman fluent in Chinese staying in the same room) ringing once, but neither did he wake up, nor the Korean kid Hanwei. I closed my eyes again to get some more sleep. Michael told me that Hanwei's alarm clock would be so loud that you can't miss it, so I decided to just wait for that.
The next time I opened my eyes, it was not dark anymore. I was shocked by this fact, and got out of my bed right away. Michael and Hanwei were still sleeping. When I looked at the clock, I noticed that it was almost 8. I woke up Michael to tell him that we had overslept.
"There was no training this morning," he said.
"What?" I asked.
"I went out to check, but it was way too windy man. It was like a tornado! They told me to go back inside. Nothing's ever happened like this before."
I was not sure whether to believe him, because I remember seeing him close his eyes again after putting off his phone, and besides, I remember having heard some of the kids laughing outside in the early morning. But then again, it was still pretty windy outside even now.
I guess I will never know...
After having done some training, we got off for the rest of the day. Not because of the wind, but because it was Saturday. The kids were running around happily enjoying their playtime.
Together with Michael and Hanwei, I went downtown to have some fastfood. Michael said he has to go and eat outside every weekend, or else he can't survive here. On our way back, we bought ourselves some PS2 games, which are like 10 Yuan (1 euro or 100 yen) each. Back at the school, we put on the PS2, and played games until late in the night. So this is what Shaolin monks do in their free time, huh?
On Sunday, there was no training either, so we could sleep as much as we wanted. After having woken up at about 10, some of the Chinese kids came to our room to play some games on Hanwei's PS2. In return, they brought us some milk. As Michael explained to me, they are kids that come from good families from another province, but many of the local kids here are not so good and tend to steal stuff from others. One of the good kids had received some cookies from his mother, but it was all gone before he knew it.
In the afternoon, we went downtown again. There was this place that Michael and Hanwei liked to call "heaven".
"Trust me, you will have the best pork and lamb meat in your life," they told me.
The food that arrived was pretty barbarian. Huge lumps of pork were served, and Michael and Hanwei chewed them making loud noises, and kept sucking on them until there was no meat left. "Barbarian heaven" it was indeed.
On our way back, we met an Iranian man who has his 2 kids in the Kungfu school. He was together with the kids. They were very beautiful kids (especially the girl looked destined to become an incredibly attractive girl in the future), but they looked so incredibly sad. I am not going into details, but as Michael has explained to me, they have had a pretty hard life.
The Iranian family gave us a ride back on their motor with a container-like thing attached to it.
"Here's the foreigner parade ladies and gentlemen!" Michael said, and he was right.
Iranians, an Englishman, a Korean and a Dutchmen with a Japanese heart.
Time to get back to school!
On Saturday morning, my first so called "early morning practice" at the Shaolin school was supposed to start at 5:30. I heard the mobile phone of Michael (an Englishman fluent in Chinese staying in the same room) ringing once, but neither did he wake up, nor the Korean kid Hanwei. I closed my eyes again to get some more sleep. Michael told me that Hanwei's alarm clock would be so loud that you can't miss it, so I decided to just wait for that.
The next time I opened my eyes, it was not dark anymore. I was shocked by this fact, and got out of my bed right away. Michael and Hanwei were still sleeping. When I looked at the clock, I noticed that it was almost 8. I woke up Michael to tell him that we had overslept.
"There was no training this morning," he said.
"What?" I asked.
"I went out to check, but it was way too windy man. It was like a tornado! They told me to go back inside. Nothing's ever happened like this before."
I was not sure whether to believe him, because I remember seeing him close his eyes again after putting off his phone, and besides, I remember having heard some of the kids laughing outside in the early morning. But then again, it was still pretty windy outside even now.
I guess I will never know...
After having done some training, we got off for the rest of the day. Not because of the wind, but because it was Saturday. The kids were running around happily enjoying their playtime.
Together with Michael and Hanwei, I went downtown to have some fastfood. Michael said he has to go and eat outside every weekend, or else he can't survive here. On our way back, we bought ourselves some PS2 games, which are like 10 Yuan (1 euro or 100 yen) each. Back at the school, we put on the PS2, and played games until late in the night. So this is what Shaolin monks do in their free time, huh?
On Sunday, there was no training either, so we could sleep as much as we wanted. After having woken up at about 10, some of the Chinese kids came to our room to play some games on Hanwei's PS2. In return, they brought us some milk. As Michael explained to me, they are kids that come from good families from another province, but many of the local kids here are not so good and tend to steal stuff from others. One of the good kids had received some cookies from his mother, but it was all gone before he knew it.
In the afternoon, we went downtown again. There was this place that Michael and Hanwei liked to call "heaven".
"Trust me, you will have the best pork and lamb meat in your life," they told me.
The food that arrived was pretty barbarian. Huge lumps of pork were served, and Michael and Hanwei chewed them making loud noises, and kept sucking on them until there was no meat left. "Barbarian heaven" it was indeed.
On our way back, we met an Iranian man who has his 2 kids in the Kungfu school. He was together with the kids. They were very beautiful kids (especially the girl looked destined to become an incredibly attractive girl in the future), but they looked so incredibly sad. I am not going into details, but as Michael has explained to me, they have had a pretty hard life.
The Iranian family gave us a ride back on their motor with a container-like thing attached to it.
"Here's the foreigner parade ladies and gentlemen!" Michael said, and he was right.
Iranians, an Englishman, a Korean and a Dutchmen with a Japanese heart.
Time to get back to school!
2011年10月17日月曜日
De eerste dag op de Shaolin-Kungfu school.
October 17, 2011. Written in Dengfeng, China.
Na de herberg verlaten te hebben, liep ik met mijn zware rugzak righting de Kungfu school waar ik de komende paar weken zou verblijven. Coco van de herberg had me het advies gegeven om de taxi te nemen, maar ik zei dat ik wel van een goede wandeling hield. Coco bleek echter niet de enige te zijn die het beter vond dat ik naar de school gereden werd; voortdurend kwamen er namelijk taxi's, bussen en zelfs gewone auto's voor mijn neus stoppen om wat aan mij te verdienen. Door al dit soort ervaringen wist ik al hoe je in het Chinees "Ik hoef niets van je" moet zeggen. Dat deed ik ook toen ik weer getoeter hoorde van een auto dichtbij. De man in de auto zei nog wat tegen me, maar zonder te kijken maakte ik een "wegwezen" handgebaar naar hem. De man zei echter nog een keer iets tegen mij. Dit klonk echter niet zo vervelend als het klinkt bij de meesten van die mannen. Ik keek nu om naar de auto, en zag dat het de meester van mijn Kungfu school was! Geschrokken boog ik meteen, bood mijn excuses aan tegen de meester, en stapte in zijn auto.
Het was dus niet het beste begin dat je je kunt voorstellen. Het kwam allemaal echter snel in orde, omdat de Engelsman Michael (die vloeiend Chinees spreekt) na aankomst het allemaal aan de meester uitlegde. We hadden nog een kleine 2 uur voor de les moest beginnen.
Michael en Hanwei (een Koreaan) hielpen mij de juiste maat vinden van het Kungfu uniform, dat slechts 6 euro kostte. Schoenen bleken ze echter niet in mijn maat te hebben, en die zou ik de volgende dag in de stad moeten kopen.
Ik bleek in dezelfde kamer te slapen als Michael en Hanwei. Ze verzorgden in de kamer een klein hondje dat ze op de straat gevonden hadden. De kleine kinderen op de school schijnen het hondje echter te pesten en te schoppen, waardoor hij een mank rechterpootje heeft. Hij heeft trouwens ook een onderbeet, iets wat ik nog nooit bij dieren gezien heb.
"You are a terrible excuse for a dog!" zei Michael steeds tegen hem, en dat is nu net wat hem zo leuk maakt.
Mijn eerste training begon om 2 uur. Ik zit in een Sanda klas voor gevorderden (Michael heeft ervoor gezorgd dat ik daar mee kan doen) en ben er verreweg de oudste. Sanda is een soort Kickboksen, maar dan met Kungfu als basis. Het begon met een lichte warming-up, en daarna moesten we slaan en schoppen tegen de stootkussens. Hier bleek echter geen eind aan te komen. Ik ben het met Karate natuurlijk gewend om tegen stootkussens te slaan, maar niet zo lang. Het ging maar door! Bovendien sla je met Sanda tegen het hoofd, en doordat de stoten iets anders zijn dan die van Karate, voelde ik dat ik net iets andere spieren gebruikte dan normaal, want voor een enorme spierpijn zorgt. De coach van 21 (die op mij na de oudste is) gaf soms het goede voorbeeld, en elke keer weer was ik onder de indruk van zijn enorme lenigheid en snelheid. Echt hoe je het je voorstelt van een Kungfu expert.
Om half 6 mochten we eindelijk ophouden met de stootkussens, en was mijn eerste training klaar.
Ik ging naar Michael die nog bezig was met zijn acrobatiek klas. Al die jongens deden de gekste sprongen en maakten achteroversalto's na tegen een boom op gerend te hebben. Ik was blij dat ik voor Sanda gekozen had, want daar had ik absoluut niet aan mee kunnen doen.
We mochten nu eten in de cantine (alhoewel de meeste leerlingen hun eigen bakjes hebben waarmee ze eten halen en dan weer meenemen naar hun kamers). Ik had een vreselijke honger, maar had moeite met het eten omdat ik door de spierpijn mijn stokjes niet goed meer vast kon houden. Het eten is simpel en niet bepaald van hoog niveau, maar in ieder geval mag je zoveel eten als je wilt.
Na gegeten te hebben ging ik met Michael en Hanwei terug naar de kamer. We speelden daar wat spelletjes op de Playstation 2 van Hanwei. Hanwei is een erg vriendelijke jongen en lacht altijd vrolijk. Hij blijkt alleen niet erg van vechtsport te houden, en blijft vaak de hele dag lekker in zijn bed liggen. Als hij een Chinees geweest was, hadden ze hem helemaal in elkaar geslagen, vertelde Michael. Maar omdat hij een Koreaan is, doet niemand streng tegen hem en maakt het niemand uit wat hij doet. Hij is gewoon het type dat lekker op de kamer wat strips leest en een spelletje speelt. Op zich niets mee mis.
Om half 10 ging het licht uit. De volgende dag moesten we om 10 voor half 6 op te staan. Door de druk die ik daartegen voelde kon ik echter niet slapen. Ik meen me zelfs te herinneren het 2 uur te zien worden. Dat wordt nog eens wat morgen!
Na de herberg verlaten te hebben, liep ik met mijn zware rugzak righting de Kungfu school waar ik de komende paar weken zou verblijven. Coco van de herberg had me het advies gegeven om de taxi te nemen, maar ik zei dat ik wel van een goede wandeling hield. Coco bleek echter niet de enige te zijn die het beter vond dat ik naar de school gereden werd; voortdurend kwamen er namelijk taxi's, bussen en zelfs gewone auto's voor mijn neus stoppen om wat aan mij te verdienen. Door al dit soort ervaringen wist ik al hoe je in het Chinees "Ik hoef niets van je" moet zeggen. Dat deed ik ook toen ik weer getoeter hoorde van een auto dichtbij. De man in de auto zei nog wat tegen me, maar zonder te kijken maakte ik een "wegwezen" handgebaar naar hem. De man zei echter nog een keer iets tegen mij. Dit klonk echter niet zo vervelend als het klinkt bij de meesten van die mannen. Ik keek nu om naar de auto, en zag dat het de meester van mijn Kungfu school was! Geschrokken boog ik meteen, bood mijn excuses aan tegen de meester, en stapte in zijn auto.
Het was dus niet het beste begin dat je je kunt voorstellen. Het kwam allemaal echter snel in orde, omdat de Engelsman Michael (die vloeiend Chinees spreekt) na aankomst het allemaal aan de meester uitlegde. We hadden nog een kleine 2 uur voor de les moest beginnen.
Michael en Hanwei (een Koreaan) hielpen mij de juiste maat vinden van het Kungfu uniform, dat slechts 6 euro kostte. Schoenen bleken ze echter niet in mijn maat te hebben, en die zou ik de volgende dag in de stad moeten kopen.
Ik bleek in dezelfde kamer te slapen als Michael en Hanwei. Ze verzorgden in de kamer een klein hondje dat ze op de straat gevonden hadden. De kleine kinderen op de school schijnen het hondje echter te pesten en te schoppen, waardoor hij een mank rechterpootje heeft. Hij heeft trouwens ook een onderbeet, iets wat ik nog nooit bij dieren gezien heb.
Mijn eerste training begon om 2 uur. Ik zit in een Sanda klas voor gevorderden (Michael heeft ervoor gezorgd dat ik daar mee kan doen) en ben er verreweg de oudste. Sanda is een soort Kickboksen, maar dan met Kungfu als basis. Het begon met een lichte warming-up, en daarna moesten we slaan en schoppen tegen de stootkussens. Hier bleek echter geen eind aan te komen. Ik ben het met Karate natuurlijk gewend om tegen stootkussens te slaan, maar niet zo lang. Het ging maar door! Bovendien sla je met Sanda tegen het hoofd, en doordat de stoten iets anders zijn dan die van Karate, voelde ik dat ik net iets andere spieren gebruikte dan normaal, want voor een enorme spierpijn zorgt. De coach van 21 (die op mij na de oudste is) gaf soms het goede voorbeeld, en elke keer weer was ik onder de indruk van zijn enorme lenigheid en snelheid. Echt hoe je het je voorstelt van een Kungfu expert.
Om half 6 mochten we eindelijk ophouden met de stootkussens, en was mijn eerste training klaar.
Ik ging naar Michael die nog bezig was met zijn acrobatiek klas. Al die jongens deden de gekste sprongen en maakten achteroversalto's na tegen een boom op gerend te hebben. Ik was blij dat ik voor Sanda gekozen had, want daar had ik absoluut niet aan mee kunnen doen.
We mochten nu eten in de cantine (alhoewel de meeste leerlingen hun eigen bakjes hebben waarmee ze eten halen en dan weer meenemen naar hun kamers). Ik had een vreselijke honger, maar had moeite met het eten omdat ik door de spierpijn mijn stokjes niet goed meer vast kon houden. Het eten is simpel en niet bepaald van hoog niveau, maar in ieder geval mag je zoveel eten als je wilt.
Na gegeten te hebben ging ik met Michael en Hanwei terug naar de kamer. We speelden daar wat spelletjes op de Playstation 2 van Hanwei. Hanwei is een erg vriendelijke jongen en lacht altijd vrolijk. Hij blijkt alleen niet erg van vechtsport te houden, en blijft vaak de hele dag lekker in zijn bed liggen. Als hij een Chinees geweest was, hadden ze hem helemaal in elkaar geslagen, vertelde Michael. Maar omdat hij een Koreaan is, doet niemand streng tegen hem en maakt het niemand uit wat hij doet. Hij is gewoon het type dat lekker op de kamer wat strips leest en een spelletje speelt. Op zich niets mee mis.
Om half 10 ging het licht uit. De volgende dag moesten we om 10 voor half 6 op te staan. Door de druk die ik daartegen voelde kon ik echter niet slapen. Ik meen me zelfs te herinneren het 2 uur te zien worden. Dat wordt nog eens wat morgen!
2011年10月13日木曜日
Martial Arts Inn
October 14, 2011. Written in Dengfeng, China.
Martial Arts Inn
I have been in Dengfeng for a couple of days now. Dengfeng is a small Chinese city with the famous Shaolin temple located nearby. It is therefore a famous site for not only martial artists, but normal people as well. Oddly enough though, you will hardly see any foreigners in the city, and to this day there is only one youth hostel in town.
That one hostel, is in one word a fantastic place though. Not because the beds are good (trust me, they aren't) nor because it is a clean or cozy place (it is not clean and all the rooms feel empty), but just because it is a great place to meet interesting people, and that is what youth hostels should be all about.
To start with, the young female owner Coco (her English name) is an incredibly friendly person that treated me like an old friend from the moment I entered the place.
"You must have gone through a lot but now you are finally here!" she said with enthusiasm, and I could tell that she was not just being nice. I hadn't even booked a room or anything, but she approached me as if she had been waiting for me for a long time.
When I told her that I was planning to enter a Martial Arts school in town for about a month, she immediately gave me detailed information about the schools. I really had to question myself; "When did I see a person just being nice to someone without a special reason like her for the last time?"
That being said, the special thing about this youth hostel is, that every single guest I have met here has had at least some kind of relation to martial arts. Sure, there were some people who had only practiced something when they were a kid, but there was no-one completely unrelated to it. On my first night, there was this crazy Malaysian guy that had been practicing all sorts of martial arts, and was now developing his own style of self-defense, which involved spitting people in their faces.
"Grab me!" he would say. "Do you know what I do when they grab me like this?"
And when I said no, he would pretend spitting me in the face.
I nodded politely to this interesting way of defending.
Then, there was an American guy I liked very much. Just like me, he left his home country when he was only 16, and has been living abroad ever since. But different from me, he did not stay in the same country for 8 years, but has lived in 8 different countries instead. Now that is what I call international.
But, living abroad appeared to be not our only similarity. He also enjoyed traveling, and has done lots of backpacking as well. Also, martial arts seemed to be one of his big loves as well. He has been intensively practicing Muay Thai and Taichi. And last but not least, he wants to be a writer and is writing articles on daily basis. How close can people get?
Together with the American, I went eating with a Mexican couple for two evenings in a row. They were musicians, and mainly developed soundtracks for movies. They had been traveling through Asia since february, which is quite a long time! Also, they have both practiced a very effective Israeli self-defense style called Krav Maga. I really liked it how they were just browsing the internet for one day and then decided to take the plane and live in France. Now that is how people should live their lifes!
Yesterday night, the American guy and me decided to have a sparring session. We borrowed some gloves from Coco, and she suggested that we could use the 3rd floor since it is an open space. So this hostel even has a practice room!
While the Mexican couple were watching us, we had an interesting sparring session. I was having troubles by getting hit to the face and getting clinched, while the American was bothered by my kicks to the head and punches to the stomach. I think we have both learned a lot because of our different styles of fighting.
Today, all of the interesting people have left, and I am the only guest at the hostel right now. I am taking it easy since tomorrow a new episode of my travels will start.
Martial Arts Inn
I have been in Dengfeng for a couple of days now. Dengfeng is a small Chinese city with the famous Shaolin temple located nearby. It is therefore a famous site for not only martial artists, but normal people as well. Oddly enough though, you will hardly see any foreigners in the city, and to this day there is only one youth hostel in town.
That one hostel, is in one word a fantastic place though. Not because the beds are good (trust me, they aren't) nor because it is a clean or cozy place (it is not clean and all the rooms feel empty), but just because it is a great place to meet interesting people, and that is what youth hostels should be all about.
To start with, the young female owner Coco (her English name) is an incredibly friendly person that treated me like an old friend from the moment I entered the place.
"You must have gone through a lot but now you are finally here!" she said with enthusiasm, and I could tell that she was not just being nice. I hadn't even booked a room or anything, but she approached me as if she had been waiting for me for a long time.
When I told her that I was planning to enter a Martial Arts school in town for about a month, she immediately gave me detailed information about the schools. I really had to question myself; "When did I see a person just being nice to someone without a special reason like her for the last time?"
That being said, the special thing about this youth hostel is, that every single guest I have met here has had at least some kind of relation to martial arts. Sure, there were some people who had only practiced something when they were a kid, but there was no-one completely unrelated to it. On my first night, there was this crazy Malaysian guy that had been practicing all sorts of martial arts, and was now developing his own style of self-defense, which involved spitting people in their faces.
"Grab me!" he would say. "Do you know what I do when they grab me like this?"
And when I said no, he would pretend spitting me in the face.
I nodded politely to this interesting way of defending.
Then, there was an American guy I liked very much. Just like me, he left his home country when he was only 16, and has been living abroad ever since. But different from me, he did not stay in the same country for 8 years, but has lived in 8 different countries instead. Now that is what I call international.
But, living abroad appeared to be not our only similarity. He also enjoyed traveling, and has done lots of backpacking as well. Also, martial arts seemed to be one of his big loves as well. He has been intensively practicing Muay Thai and Taichi. And last but not least, he wants to be a writer and is writing articles on daily basis. How close can people get?
Together with the American, I went eating with a Mexican couple for two evenings in a row. They were musicians, and mainly developed soundtracks for movies. They had been traveling through Asia since february, which is quite a long time! Also, they have both practiced a very effective Israeli self-defense style called Krav Maga. I really liked it how they were just browsing the internet for one day and then decided to take the plane and live in France. Now that is how people should live their lifes!
Yesterday night, the American guy and me decided to have a sparring session. We borrowed some gloves from Coco, and she suggested that we could use the 3rd floor since it is an open space. So this hostel even has a practice room!
While the Mexican couple were watching us, we had an interesting sparring session. I was having troubles by getting hit to the face and getting clinched, while the American was bothered by my kicks to the head and punches to the stomach. I think we have both learned a lot because of our different styles of fighting.
Today, all of the interesting people have left, and I am the only guest at the hostel right now. I am taking it easy since tomorrow a new episode of my travels will start.
武術の聖地 少林寺
October 14, 2011. Written in Denfeng, China.
武術の聖地 少林寺
数日前から河南県登封市に滞在している。少林寺がある町だ。あれだけ有名だから、町中が観光地化しているのかと想像していたが、意外とそんなことはない。ごく普通の中国の田舎町であり、外国人がたくさん見かけられるわけでもないし、ユースホステルだって一つしかない。ところが、少林寺までのバスに乗ると（１０分くらいの距離といったところか）物事は一遍する。そこはまさに観光地であり、人の数は北京とそれほど変わらない。しかし、それでも外国人の観光客は非常に少ない。いないわけではないが、１０分おきに見かける程度だ。シーズンではないのかもしれないが、それでも驚いた。これだけ有名な少林寺なら、一年中世界中から人が来るものと想像していた。
ホステルで出会ったイスラエル人の２５歳の学生と、新婚旅行中のオランダ人カップルと一緒に少林寺を訪れた。少林寺が観光地化した以上、本物の武術がみたい者としては、少しがっかりする場所だった。３０分おきに少林寺拳法達人の演武があるわけだが、それは武術でもなんでもなく、ただのショーだった。もちろん空手の演武にも多少のショー性は含まれている。試し割り（板や瓦などを割る種目）なんてまさにそうだ。日頃の稽古においてそんなことをまずしないし、そんなことをしたって何の証明にもならないと思う。ただし、迫力がある以上、見ている人を感動させる道具としては非常に有効だ。だが、少林寺拳法の演武はそれをはるかに超えたものだった。最後は観客数人を舞台に呼び出して、真似事をやらせて笑いを取ろうとしたほどだった。そんなものを見に、わざわざここまで来たわけではない。
少林寺自体も、特に感じるものはなかった。空手をやっている身分としても、武術を愛するものとしても、ここに来ることを楽しみにしていたが、やはりここまで有名な場所になると本物ではなくなるし、昔あったはずの独特な魅力も、今となってはなくなっている。
がっかりした状態で少林寺付近の山（少林寺景区と呼ばれる地）をゴンドラで昇った。相変わらず霧が凄く、遠くまで見ることは不可能だった。数百年前、彼らはこの辺りで修行していたのか‥。今となっては、空き缶や紙くずが大量に捨てられている魅力のない場所だが‥‥。中国人はとにかく何でもポイ捨てしてしまう。
上に到着すると、あきらかに人々の数が減っていた。大抵の人は、少林寺だけを見て帰るのかもしれない。山の頂点まで来ると、しばらく景色を眺めて休んだ。たくさんの山に囲まれていた。空くまでも自然が作り出したものなのに、なぜか中国的に見える。
さらに隣の山までの道があるらしく、イスラエル人と僕は昇ることにしたが、オランダ人カップルは二人とも高山病ぎみのため撤退した。ここからは二人の若者の冒険だ！
ところが、歩き出して間もなく、大雨が降り出した。僕は構わず歩き続けようとしたが、イスラエルの彼が木の下で雨宿りしょうと言い出した。英語が僕よりもはるかに上手で、まるで西洋人のように振る舞う彼に、ずっと気になっていたことを聞いてみた。
「宗教を信じるのか？」と。
彼はすぐに自分のことを１００％無宗教だと言った。
「イスラエルには、そういう人がたくさんいるのか？」
「いや、少数派だよ。小さい頃からインターネットをたくさんやったり、海外の映画をたくさん観たりして、そういう風に考えるようになったんだ」
「ご両親はそれについてどう思ってるの？」
「今でも俺の考え方を変えたがってるよ。宗教より科学の道を選ぶことにしたと言っても、親父がどっちかを選ばなくたっていいじゃんと言ってきかないんだ」
話して行くうちに、とてもユニークなイスラエル人と接してることがわかった。ヨーロッパや日本のような、宗教に大して基本的に自由を与えられる国において、無宗教であっても驚くことはない。だが、イスラエルのような、宗教が生活の基本とされる国において、あえて無宗教を選ぶとは、よっぽど自分でいろいろと考えたのに違いない。
雨は一向に止まないので、とりあえず歩いてみないかと提案した。しばらく今まで昇ってきたのと同じような階段が続いたが、そこで突然階段がなくなり、山道が続いた。なんだろう、急に。とりあえず構わず昇り続けた。だが、上までいけば行くほど、道がどんどん険しくなっていく。人の気配もまるでない。
「この道、本当にあってるのか？」
「さあね、あの岩までいけば、さっきが見えるのかもしれない」
だが、その岩を昇ると、さっきにあるのが崖以外の何ものでもないことがわかった。ちょっとでも滑ってしまえば終わりだ。霧のおかげで下まで見えないのが唯一の救いだった。
それでも昇り続けると、分かれ道まで出てきた。上に向かっている山道と、下に向かっている山道があった。しかし、そのどれをとっても崖に導かれるだけだった。かなり急で危ない道を昇ってきたので、来た道を戻るのは気が引けたが、仕方がなかった。危険なことをしていることを二人そろって理解していたが、それを楽しんでいるのもまた事実だった。これぞ本当の少林寺だ！
どろだらけになりながらも、なんとか戻ってこられた。
「進入禁止。この先の道は危険です」という看板が見えたのは、すべてが終わってからだった。
武術の聖地 少林寺
数日前から河南県登封市に滞在している。少林寺がある町だ。あれだけ有名だから、町中が観光地化しているのかと想像していたが、意外とそんなことはない。ごく普通の中国の田舎町であり、外国人がたくさん見かけられるわけでもないし、ユースホステルだって一つしかない。ところが、少林寺までのバスに乗ると（１０分くらいの距離といったところか）物事は一遍する。そこはまさに観光地であり、人の数は北京とそれほど変わらない。しかし、それでも外国人の観光客は非常に少ない。いないわけではないが、１０分おきに見かける程度だ。シーズンではないのかもしれないが、それでも驚いた。これだけ有名な少林寺なら、一年中世界中から人が来るものと想像していた。
ホステルで出会ったイスラエル人の２５歳の学生と、新婚旅行中のオランダ人カップルと一緒に少林寺を訪れた。少林寺が観光地化した以上、本物の武術がみたい者としては、少しがっかりする場所だった。３０分おきに少林寺拳法達人の演武があるわけだが、それは武術でもなんでもなく、ただのショーだった。もちろん空手の演武にも多少のショー性は含まれている。試し割り（板や瓦などを割る種目）なんてまさにそうだ。日頃の稽古においてそんなことをまずしないし、そんなことをしたって何の証明にもならないと思う。ただし、迫力がある以上、見ている人を感動させる道具としては非常に有効だ。だが、少林寺拳法の演武はそれをはるかに超えたものだった。最後は観客数人を舞台に呼び出して、真似事をやらせて笑いを取ろうとしたほどだった。そんなものを見に、わざわざここまで来たわけではない。
少林寺自体も、特に感じるものはなかった。空手をやっている身分としても、武術を愛するものとしても、ここに来ることを楽しみにしていたが、やはりここまで有名な場所になると本物ではなくなるし、昔あったはずの独特な魅力も、今となってはなくなっている。
がっかりした状態で少林寺付近の山（少林寺景区と呼ばれる地）をゴンドラで昇った。相変わらず霧が凄く、遠くまで見ることは不可能だった。数百年前、彼らはこの辺りで修行していたのか‥。今となっては、空き缶や紙くずが大量に捨てられている魅力のない場所だが‥‥。中国人はとにかく何でもポイ捨てしてしまう。
上に到着すると、あきらかに人々の数が減っていた。大抵の人は、少林寺だけを見て帰るのかもしれない。山の頂点まで来ると、しばらく景色を眺めて休んだ。たくさんの山に囲まれていた。空くまでも自然が作り出したものなのに、なぜか中国的に見える。
さらに隣の山までの道があるらしく、イスラエル人と僕は昇ることにしたが、オランダ人カップルは二人とも高山病ぎみのため撤退した。ここからは二人の若者の冒険だ！
ところが、歩き出して間もなく、大雨が降り出した。僕は構わず歩き続けようとしたが、イスラエルの彼が木の下で雨宿りしょうと言い出した。英語が僕よりもはるかに上手で、まるで西洋人のように振る舞う彼に、ずっと気になっていたことを聞いてみた。
「宗教を信じるのか？」と。
彼はすぐに自分のことを１００％無宗教だと言った。
「イスラエルには、そういう人がたくさんいるのか？」
「いや、少数派だよ。小さい頃からインターネットをたくさんやったり、海外の映画をたくさん観たりして、そういう風に考えるようになったんだ」
「ご両親はそれについてどう思ってるの？」
「今でも俺の考え方を変えたがってるよ。宗教より科学の道を選ぶことにしたと言っても、親父がどっちかを選ばなくたっていいじゃんと言ってきかないんだ」
話して行くうちに、とてもユニークなイスラエル人と接してることがわかった。ヨーロッパや日本のような、宗教に大して基本的に自由を与えられる国において、無宗教であっても驚くことはない。だが、イスラエルのような、宗教が生活の基本とされる国において、あえて無宗教を選ぶとは、よっぽど自分でいろいろと考えたのに違いない。
雨は一向に止まないので、とりあえず歩いてみないかと提案した。しばらく今まで昇ってきたのと同じような階段が続いたが、そこで突然階段がなくなり、山道が続いた。なんだろう、急に。とりあえず構わず昇り続けた。だが、上までいけば行くほど、道がどんどん険しくなっていく。人の気配もまるでない。
「この道、本当にあってるのか？」
「さあね、あの岩までいけば、さっきが見えるのかもしれない」
だが、その岩を昇ると、さっきにあるのが崖以外の何ものでもないことがわかった。ちょっとでも滑ってしまえば終わりだ。霧のおかげで下まで見えないのが唯一の救いだった。
それでも昇り続けると、分かれ道まで出てきた。上に向かっている山道と、下に向かっている山道があった。しかし、そのどれをとっても崖に導かれるだけだった。かなり急で危ない道を昇ってきたので、来た道を戻るのは気が引けたが、仕方がなかった。危険なことをしていることを二人そろって理解していたが、それを楽しんでいるのもまた事実だった。これぞ本当の少林寺だ！
どろだらけになりながらも、なんとか戻ってこられた。
「進入禁止。この先の道は危険です」という看板が見えたのは、すべてが終わってからだった。
洛陽にて孤独を満喫
October 12, 2011. Written in Dengfeng, China.
洛陽にて孤独を満喫
洛陽での二日目は霧に覆われた一日だった。好きになれなかった宿から脱走して、洛陽インターナショナルユースホステルに移動した。前の宿よりは３分の１安いし、１００倍楽しいところだ。
洛陽の街を歩いていても外国人はほとんど見かけないが、このホステルにはたくさんいる。周りに誰も話せる人がいなくて少し寂しい思いをしていたが、ここなら話し相手には困らなそうだ。ところが、なぜか独りで行動する気分だったので、誰も誘わずに龍門石窟に出かけた。
龍門石窟は洛陽の名観光地で、唐時代に残された遺跡である。入場料は１２０元（１３５０円）もかかり、中国にしては異常に高いが、それだけの価値はあり、これまでに見てきたものの中でもこの龍門石窟に勝る光景があるかどうかがわからないほどだ。石窟と言っても、中に入れるわけではなく、巨大な岩に様々な多きさの穴が掘られており、それらの中にはいろんな形をした仏像が立っている。特に遠くからであれば、絶妙な眺めであることは間違いない。よくもこんなのを作ったな、と思わず呟いてしまう。だが、それだけではない。ピラミッドがそうであるように、龍門石窟にも不思議な空気が漂っており、謎に満ちた古来の世界を少しだけ覗けた気になる。霧がまるでその雰囲気を強調するためにあるかのようだった。
中国であるだけに、やはり仏教の匂い（仏像だから当然）が濃く、武術との繋がりも感じられる場所だった。そして、一番の見所はなんと言っても、石窟の中央あたりに位置している巨大な大仏であり、それを囲んでいるもう少し小さな（しかしそれでも十分に大きな）大仏たちである。鎌倉や奈良の大仏であれば、どん、と一つだけ大仏が重々しく立っているわけだが、龍門石窟では大仏があらゆるところにあり、仏教に囲まれているような気分になる。
これらを全部一人で見物していても、感動は薄れないどころか、より一層感動している自分がいた。一人だからこそ、この独特な雰囲気が味わえるのかもしれない。誰かと一緒に来ていれば、その人の存在によって現実の世界に引き戻されたことだろう。
龍門石窟を２時間ほど見物してから、白馬寺に移動した。白馬寺とは、中国初の仏教の地として有名な場所だ。私自身は無宗教だが、空手をやっている身分としても一度訪れてるみるべきだった。残念ながら着くのが少し遅くなったが、ぎりぎり中に入らせてもらった。客はもう数人しか残っておらず、たくさんの坊さんが掃き掃除をやっていた。だが、その光景が見れたのもまた貴重な体験だった、と言えなくもない。
白馬寺はまあ、普通のお寺で、見ているだけでは大した感動はなかったが、やはりここにも不思議な空気が漂っており、感じるものが多いにあった。
帰りのバスの中で、旅らしい一日だったなという実感が湧いた。出発前はこんなイメージを思い描いていた。独りで世界を彷徨い、いろんなものを見、いろんなものを感じる。人との出会いももちろん大切だが、たまにはこうして孤独を楽しむのも良い。
2011年10月10日月曜日
Aangekomen in Luoyang.
October 10, 2011. Written in Denfeng, China.
Aangekomen in Luoyang.
Aangekomen in Luoyang.
Na een chaotische treinreis van 11 uur, kwam ik om 8 uur s'ochtends aan in de stad Luoyang. Er waren genoeg hotels rond het station, maar zoals eerder in Tianjin, waar ik ook binnen ging was het vol. Er zijn zoveel nieuwe rijke Chinezen touristen die het hele land vol boeken, zodat het voor een backpacker erg moeilijk is om een hotel te vinden. Ook kon ik nergens een internetcafe vinden om te zoeken naar een internationale herberg waar ik misschien andere buitenlanders zou kunnen ontmoeten. Luoyang is een zeer touristische stad omdat het de hoofdstad geweest is van China in de Tang dynastie, en heeft vele historische monumenten. Bovendien, is het dichtbij de Shaolin tempel, die beroemd is voor zijn Kung-Fu. Toch had ik na een paar uur door de stad gewandeld te hebben, slechts twee andere buitenlanders gezien. Chinezen waren er in grote hoeveelheden, niet alleen inwoners van de stad, maar dus ook toeristen. Het leek hier echt bijzonder te zijn voor de mensen om een buitenlander te zien. Veel meisjes zwaaide naar me en kleine kindjes wezen naar me.
De stad was gevuld met simpele eethuizen. Vooral veel eethuizen die noedels en dumplings verkochten. Uit een van die restaurants, kwam een Chinees meisje naar mij toe lopen.
"Hello sir you want eat?"
Het zit hier vol met mensen die geld van je willen en maar achter je aan blijven lopen omdat ze je iets aan willen smeren.
"No, not now" zei ik een beetje geergerd.
"OK, bye bye!" zei het meisje vriendeiljk glimlachend.
Dat is eens wat anders, iemand die meteen weggaat na slechts 1 keer afgewezen te zijn. Laat ik later dan maar naar haar eethuis toe gaan!
Niet lang daarna liep ik weer een hotel binnen, alleen zag ik meteen dat de prijzen veel te hoog waren voor een backpacker. 200 Yuan voor 1 nacht! Dat is 24 Euro!! Ik was niet bereid om meer dan 60 te betalen. Toen ik het hotel weer uit wou lopen, kwam de man van het hotel achter me aanlopen. Kom terug, kom terug, leek hij te willen zeggen.
Ik wees hem het bord met de prijzen, en schudde mijn hoofd. De man sleurde mij toch mee naar de lobby. Ik bleef zeggen dat ik niet geinteresseerd was, maar de man wou niet luisteren.
Ik maakte dan maar gebaren dat ik een pen wou. De vrouw van de lobby gaf mij een pen en papier.
"Hoeveel voor 1 nacht?" schreef ik.
"200" schreef de man.
Ik schudde mijn hoofd en wou weer weg lopen. Maar de man haalde mij weer terug en maakte het gebaar dat ik mijn prijs moest opschrijven.
"60" schreef ik.
De man moest hard lachen om mijn belachelijke bod.
"100" schreef hij op.
Ik schudde weer mijn hoofd en wou weg lopen.
"80" schreef de man nu op.
Nee, zei ik.
"70!"
Nee.
"Vooruit, 60 dan"
Een beetje geiriteerd door de lage prijs gaf de vrouw van de lobby me mijn sleutel, en wees me naar mijn kamer. Het was een ruime kamer met een groot 2 persoonsbed. En dat voor slechts 60 Yan!
Na even uitgerust te hebben, probeerde ik of er WiFi zou zijn in de kamer, maar nee. In de ingang had ik toch "computer kamers" zien staan in het Chinees.
Ik ging terug naar de lobby, en vroeg weer om pen en papier.
"Computer kamer" schreef ik.
Nu begon de vrouw vreselijk te schreeuwen. Had ik de kamer voor zo een goedkope prijs gekregen, ging ik nog zeuren ook!
Ik maakte een gebaar van, laat maar zitten, en nam mijn laptop mee naar de trap van een dichtbij gebouw, en probeerde het daar uit. Daar had ik een goede verbinding! Er kwamen steeds mensen de trap op en af wandelen, en dan keken ze me met een vreemd gezicht aan. Het eerste wat ik deed, was zoeken naar een leukere herberg, waar ik misschien ook wat andere mensen zou kunnen ontmoeten. Deze vond ik en ik noteerde hoe ik daar heen moest.
Onderweg terug naar mijn kamer, zag ik dat de vrouw van de lobby aan het touwtjespringen was. Dat zou je in een 5 sterren hotel eens moeten proberen!
Ik ging naar buiten, en at onderweg ergens voor 7 Yuan een kom noedels, maar het was niet erg lekker. Ik moest de bus nemen om naar die andere herberg te komen. Luoyang is een miljoenenstad, maar een metro is er niet. Onderweg in de bus begon een oude Chineze man tegen me te praten.
"Welcome to China!" zei hij.
Ik knikte een beetje oppassend. Zo lang hij het maar niet voorsteld om ergens thee te gaan drinken. Toen ik hem vertelde waar ik uit moest stappen, vertelde mij dat de bus daar nu niet stopte omdat er gewerkt wordt aan de wegen. Ik wist niet zeker of ik dit moest geloven, maar hij vertelde me dat ik 1 station eerder moest uitstappen en vanaf daar moest lopen. De man zelf stapte op hetzelfde station uit, en wees mij de weg. Zonder mij ook maar iets aan te proberen te smeren bracht hij me waar ik moest zijn, en nam daarna weer afscheid. Het was dus gewoon een aardige meneer geweest.
De internationale herberg zag er erg gezellig uit. Was ik hier maar meteen heengegaan! Ik reserveerde een gezamelijke kamer voor de volgende dag. Dat kostte maar 40 Yuan. 20 Yuan goedkoper een 40 keer zo gezellig!
Na terug gekomen te zijn bij het station, ging ik naar het eethuis van het meisje dat me die ochtend had aangesproken. Ze leek me nog te herrineren en glimlachde vrolijk.
Ik bestelde alleen een portie dumplings en wat water.
Het meisje bracht een papier, en ging met mij praten (ofwel, schrijven). Ze was nog maar 16, maar toen ik haar vroeg of ze naar school ging zei ze van niet, en dat ze hier werkte. Ook nadat mijn portie dumplings was gekomen bleef ze bij mijn tafeltje te staan schrijven, tot haar moeder begon te zeuren dat ze daar mee moest ophouden. Met een bittere glimlach bekeek de moeder nu onze papiertjes. Toen ik mijn portie ophad verliet ik het eethuis zonder iets te zeggen. Pas toen ik een eind verwijderd van het eethuis was keek ik even om. De moeder en het meisje stonden op de stoep voor het eethuis naar me te kijken.
Terug in het hotel stond de vrouw van de lobby nog steeds (of weer) touwtje te springen. Na gedouched te hebben en mijn tanden te poetsen, plofte ik neer op mijn 2 persoonsbed en viel meteen in een diepe slaap.
カオス列車
October 9, 2011. Written in Luoyang, China.
カオス列車
そんなわけで、宿で知り合った５９歳のチェコ人と二人でバスに乗った。チェコ人男は列車に乗るわけではなく、場所を知っておくためについてきたのだった。バスの中で、２５歳の長身の中国人男と出会った。まだぼったくり事件から完全に回復したわけではなく、中国人と会話するときは常に警戒しているが、いい人であるとわかり、気をつけながらも親しく接することにした。彼は僕と同じ洛陽に向かうわけではないが、途中までが一緒なので、同じ列車の切符を買うと言って、一旦別れた。
その間、僕はチェコ人と電車乗り場を確認してから、駅前の「餃子館」に入った。店員は外国からの来客を大層嬉しく思ったろしく、あれこれ料理を売りつけようとした。２人前を適当に頼むよ、あと餃子も食べたいと言っておいた。餃子に関しては、日本語の発音「ぎょうざ」を中国人の訛りっぽい口調で言ったら伝わった。
１分も待たないうちに、料理があれこれ運ばれてきた。しかし、２人前ではなく、５人前といっても過言ではないくらいの量だった。チェコ人の笑いが止まらなかった。
「ノーノー！Too much!」と言って、ほとんどの料理を下げてもらった。残ったのは水餃子と鶏肉の炒め物と牛肉の炒め物だった。期待していた餃子よりも、炒め物の方がよっぽどうまかった。
チェコ人と別れた後、電車乗り場に戻った。電車は３０分くらい遅れているようだ。人であふれていたが、トイレから出てくるとバスで出会った中国人とでくわした。
「いやあ！待ってたよ。どこにいたの？」と彼は言った。
座席が残っていなかったらしく、彼は立ち席を買わざるを得なかったらしい。だけど君の膝の上に座らせてもらうから心配ないよ、と彼は笑って言った。本気なのか冗談なのかはわからない。
彼は恋人に電話をかけ、楽しいのか面倒くさいのかよくわからない口調で長いことしゃべった。いよいよ電話し終わった頃、乗車できるようになり、長い列ができた。これだけの人たちは本当にみんな電車に乗れるのだろうか？
２５歳の彼は僕と同じ車両に乗り、僕の膝の上にこそ座らなかったが、４人席に囲まれているテーブルの上に座った。そのことを見て嫌な顔をした人など一人もいなかった。そもそも、同じようなことをしている人がちらほらいる。僕の迎え側に座っていた若い男とも仲良くなり、３人で話した。二人ともそれなりに英語ができるので、基本は英語で会話したが、わからない言葉があったときは紙に漢字を書いた。本当に漢字って国際性のある文字だな、と中国に来てつくづく思う。発音記号として機能する文字は、同じ言葉がしゃべれるもの同士でないとまず理解し合えない。だが、同じ話し言葉の知識がまったくなくても、意味を持つ文字があればなんとかコミュニケーションできる。アルファベットにはない国際性であり、可能性である。もし英語も漢字化されたらどうなるんだろう、とときどき思う。日本語みたいに、アルファベッドをひらがなのように使えばいい。たとえば「あなたは家の前に歩いていた」を"貴方 歩ed in 前 of the 家" として成り立つのではないか？ 考えすぎだろうか？
それはそうと、３時間くらいすると、僕の新しくできた二人の友人が列車を降りた。最後まで彼らと警戒しながら接したことが今になって少し申し訳なく思った。二人はただ仲良くしたいだけで、何も悪意はなかった。それなのに最後まで僕に警戒されていた。だが、それは僕のせいではない。それが僕を騙した、あの女のような人たちのせいだ。そういう人がいる限り、旅人は現地の人に完全に心を許すことができない。悲しい事実だが、仕方ない。
一人になっても眠ることはできなかった。外は真っ暗だし、何もすることがないので、ひたすら読書していた。たまには本をおいて、前をぼおっと眺めるときもあったが、そうするといろんな人がまったく無遠慮に僕の本を手に取っては、ひらひらとページをめくってしまうので、再び手に取るとどこまで読んだのかがわからなくなるのだった。
出発してから１１時間、朝の８時頃に洛陽に到着した。さあて、どのような冒険が待っていることやら。
2011年10月9日日曜日
Borat and Mr. Bean visit the Great Wall.
October 9, 2011. Written in Luoyang, China.
Borat and Mr.Bean visit the great wall.
In the evening, I met a 59 year old man from Czech Republic. He was staying at the same room as me. His English was not very good, so I had to speak very slowly in order to make myself understood. He spoke English with a very funny accent, which immediatly made me think of Borat. His clumsy movement also made me think in the same direction. It was a very friendly and intellectual man though, and I liked him from the moment I met him. We talked about our plans in Beijing, and happened (which is not really a coincidence) to both be planning to pay a visit to the Great Wall, and decided together the next day.
"How late do you want to leave the guesthouse?" I asked him.
"Oh, not too early...maybe 6?"
For me, waking up at 6 in the morning was like running a marathon. When the man from Czech Republic woke me up, it took me more than 10 seconds to understand what was happening. I was so tired!
We took the subway to go the station were we could take a bus that goes directly to the wall. We couldn't find the bus, but met some students from France that were also searching for it. On our way, a Chinese man tried to rip us off.
"No buses today! I can bring you there for 100 Yuan" he said.
Yeah sure, and you know tea-houses where one cup of tea costs 4000 Yuan.
Once we found the bus to the wall, we paid 12 Yuan and entered the bus full of Chinese tourists. It was a drive of about one hour. Despite Beijing being such a huge city, our sight out of the window became rural quite quickly.
After arriving, Borat and Mr.Bean took some quick snacks at one of the many touristic shops near the wall. The way Borat ate his skewers looked really funny. The French people had already moved on while we were eating.
My first impression of the Great Wall was not the cliche thing. Not the incredible length of it, nor the realizing that I was at a place that could just be the most famous place in the world. I was just astonished by the incredible amount of Chinese tourists that were climbing the wall. It was even worse than Tokyo rush-hour trains! People were standing in lines to be able to make their next step. At least, that was what the right side looked like. The left side however, was a bit less crowded, and Borat and Mr.Bean chose to go that way. It was still full of people, but at least we could move around freely. Bit by bit, I was now able to get the impressions I should have had from the start. The craziness of this place. It just could goes on and on. How could people have ever even thought of starting such a crazy project? Insane, felt like a much better word to describe it rather than beautiful. And of course it was and still is a record for achievements made by human.
At the end of where you could go (of course there was more, but it was prohibited) we met the French guys again. They were now going to the other side and try to fight with the Chinese people. I asked Borat if he cared for that, but he told me that he was too old for such a thing.
After we left the site and went back to the city, we decided to now pay a visit to Summer Palace. A place that a friend of mine had recommended me. It is far less famous than the Forbidden City and the Great Wall, but I liked it way better. It was such a beautiful place. Definitely the best I have seen in Beijing. Basically, it is just a temple, but it is surrounded by a huge lake. Whether you watch the temple from near the lake, or watch the lake from the top of the temple (which is pretty high), it is both just breathtaking. My friend had described it as the only quiet place in Beijing, but this was not true. Maybe not as much as the Great Wall, but still, Summer Palace as well was filled with Chinese tourists.
On our way back, we decided to visit Beijing station, and buy our tickets to leave the city. I had not been at the station before (the train from Tianjin arrived at Beijing South), but this station looked like a giant mosque!
I was glad to be able to have a look at the station and the street in front of it, since my train to Luoyang the next day happened to depart from Beijing West station. I was able to get a ticket for only 105 Yuan (1200 Yen, 12 Euro), which felt really cheap for a ride with duration of 11 hours. Borat, however, was less lucky. To the city he wanted to go to, there were only standing tickets available for the day he wanted to go. He found himself too old for that and asked for the next day. On this day, all was available was a first-class seat. He had to pay 800 Yuan for this, while his city is only a few hours further than mine.
When we came back to the guesthouse, it was still only 7 PM. If you wake up early, one day seems like forever!
Borat and Mr.Bean visit the great wall.
In the evening, I met a 59 year old man from Czech Republic. He was staying at the same room as me. His English was not very good, so I had to speak very slowly in order to make myself understood. He spoke English with a very funny accent, which immediatly made me think of Borat. His clumsy movement also made me think in the same direction. It was a very friendly and intellectual man though, and I liked him from the moment I met him. We talked about our plans in Beijing, and happened (which is not really a coincidence) to both be planning to pay a visit to the Great Wall, and decided together the next day.
"How late do you want to leave the guesthouse?" I asked him.
"Oh, not too early...maybe 6?"
For me, waking up at 6 in the morning was like running a marathon. When the man from Czech Republic woke me up, it took me more than 10 seconds to understand what was happening. I was so tired!
We took the subway to go the station were we could take a bus that goes directly to the wall. We couldn't find the bus, but met some students from France that were also searching for it. On our way, a Chinese man tried to rip us off.
"No buses today! I can bring you there for 100 Yuan" he said.
Yeah sure, and you know tea-houses where one cup of tea costs 4000 Yuan.
Once we found the bus to the wall, we paid 12 Yuan and entered the bus full of Chinese tourists. It was a drive of about one hour. Despite Beijing being such a huge city, our sight out of the window became rural quite quickly.
After arriving, Borat and Mr.Bean took some quick snacks at one of the many touristic shops near the wall. The way Borat ate his skewers looked really funny. The French people had already moved on while we were eating.
My first impression of the Great Wall was not the cliche thing. Not the incredible length of it, nor the realizing that I was at a place that could just be the most famous place in the world. I was just astonished by the incredible amount of Chinese tourists that were climbing the wall. It was even worse than Tokyo rush-hour trains! People were standing in lines to be able to make their next step. At least, that was what the right side looked like. The left side however, was a bit less crowded, and Borat and Mr.Bean chose to go that way. It was still full of people, but at least we could move around freely. Bit by bit, I was now able to get the impressions I should have had from the start. The craziness of this place. It just could goes on and on. How could people have ever even thought of starting such a crazy project? Insane, felt like a much better word to describe it rather than beautiful. And of course it was and still is a record for achievements made by human.
At the end of where you could go (of course there was more, but it was prohibited) we met the French guys again. They were now going to the other side and try to fight with the Chinese people. I asked Borat if he cared for that, but he told me that he was too old for such a thing.
After we left the site and went back to the city, we decided to now pay a visit to Summer Palace. A place that a friend of mine had recommended me. It is far less famous than the Forbidden City and the Great Wall, but I liked it way better. It was such a beautiful place. Definitely the best I have seen in Beijing. Basically, it is just a temple, but it is surrounded by a huge lake. Whether you watch the temple from near the lake, or watch the lake from the top of the temple (which is pretty high), it is both just breathtaking. My friend had described it as the only quiet place in Beijing, but this was not true. Maybe not as much as the Great Wall, but still, Summer Palace as well was filled with Chinese tourists.
On our way back, we decided to visit Beijing station, and buy our tickets to leave the city. I had not been at the station before (the train from Tianjin arrived at Beijing South), but this station looked like a giant mosque!
I was glad to be able to have a look at the station and the street in front of it, since my train to Luoyang the next day happened to depart from Beijing West station. I was able to get a ticket for only 105 Yuan (1200 Yen, 12 Euro), which felt really cheap for a ride with duration of 11 hours. Borat, however, was less lucky. To the city he wanted to go to, there were only standing tickets available for the day he wanted to go. He found himself too old for that and asked for the next day. On this day, all was available was a first-class seat. He had to pay 800 Yuan for this, while his city is only a few hours further than mine.
When we came back to the guesthouse, it was still only 7 PM. If you wake up early, one day seems like forever!
2011年10月7日金曜日
彷徨う異邦人２ 北京編
October 7, 2011. Written in Beijing, Seoul.
彷徨う異邦人２ 北京編
彷徨う異邦人２ 北京編
オランダ語の記事に書いてあるように、英語の上手な中国人女性に喫茶店に連れて行かれ、２、３杯お茶を飲んだあと、５万円も支払わされた。そう、ぼったくりに遭ったわけだ。５万円と言ったら、約２ヶ月分の旅費だ。特に中国のような安い国ではそうだ。その夜はひたすら悪夢を見、翌日は一日中ゲストハウスを出ずに、何一つ口にすることもできなかった。
完全に立ち直ったわけではないが、いつまでたってもゲストハウスにいるわけにもいかないので、翌朝は出かけることにした。
地下鉄に乗り、有名な天安門広場で降りた。ところが、あまりにも混みすぎており、広場に入るまで相当の列があり、その前に故宮を訪れることにした。
こちらも中国人の観光客があふれており、一般人に禁じられた皇帝の城、という雰囲気はまったくなかった。切符を買うのにも４０分も並んだ。僕の前には珍しく外国人の４人組が並んでいて、彼らはひたすらオランダ人の背の高さについて語っていた。そんな彼らはオランダ人ではないが、僕よりもよっぽど背が高い人たちだった。
まだぼったくり事件で落ち込んでいるせいか、あまり故宮に興味が湧かなかった、４０分くらいで外に出た。
ところが、外に出たところには、すごく高いところにある寺らしき建物があったので、それを上ってみようと思った。そして、その上の景色は大したものだった。故宮の中を歩いても、その広さは実感できないが、上からだと本当に町並みを眺めているかのようで感心した。
この木を見て、三峰山を連想したあなたは、よっぽどの極真マニアです！
ところが、外に出たところには、すごく高いところにある寺らしき建物があったので、それを上ってみようと思った。そして、その上の景色は大したものだった。故宮の中を歩いても、その広さは実感できないが、上からだと本当に町並みを眺めているかのようで感心した。
次は天安門に戻ろうと思ったが、方向感覚を失ったので、どう歩けば良いかわからず、バスで行くことにした。日本でもめったに見られないくらい満員のバスで、ドアが閉まらなくて運転手が困っていそうに何かを叫んでいた。なんとか乗れたわけだが、しばらくすると反対方向に乗ってしまったことに気が付き、周りの中国人を押しどかして降りた。
降りたのは、観光客が普段来ることもなさそうな落ち着いた町並みだった。
そこで良いアイデアが思いついた。ここならどこかで本物の北京ダックが食べられるじゃないか、と。昨日ぼったくりのカモになったわけだから、今日はこっちがカモを捕まえればよかった。ところが、どれだけ道を歩いても、そのような店は見つからない。鴨と書いてある店があっても、中には人が入っていなかったり、高級そうな雰囲気だったりする。数時間歩いても良いところが見つからなかったが、いろんな北京の顔が見れたのでそれはそれでよかった。僕はやはりカモであり、カモを捕まえることはできないというわけか‥。
そこで良いアイデアが思いついた。ここならどこかで本物の北京ダックが食べられるじゃないか、と。昨日ぼったくりのカモになったわけだから、今日はこっちがカモを捕まえればよかった。ところが、どれだけ道を歩いても、そのような店は見つからない。鴨と書いてある店があっても、中には人が入っていなかったり、高級そうな雰囲気だったりする。数時間歩いても良いところが見つからなかったが、いろんな北京の顔が見れたのでそれはそれでよかった。僕はやはりカモであり、カモを捕まえることはできないというわけか‥。
とうとうあきらめたところで、ゲストハウスの付近まで来たことに気がついた。それなら、もう帰るしかないだろう。そして、幸運なことに、帰り道の途中に北京ダックのテイクアウト屋さんがあり、６元（７０円）で鴨の手羽先（かな）を食べた。美味しかったし、これでリベンジが果たせた！
しかし、結局天安門を見ないで帰ってきたわけか‥。
しかし、結局天安門を見ないで帰ってきたわけか‥。
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