I suppose that my greatest past-time for enjoyment, based upon the number of hours I spend doing it each week is…reading.  A form of relaxation/development that I’m sure is shared with many in our group.  I do have a bad habit of reading, perhaps, a half-dozen books simultaneously.  No, I don’t have multiple books open, reading them together, like those chess masters who play multiple game boards with multiple opponents, haha.  It’s more like watching various TV series in a given night or week.  I’ll pick up one book and read a score of pages one night, and the next night, I’ll do the same with one or two others.  I think that many folks have a hard time keeping up with what’s going on in any particular book if they put it down for a week or two.  Like I said, for me, it’s no different than watching a continuing episode of Hawaii 5-0, then switching to Last Man Standing and finishing up with the news.

Anyways, my usual areas of interest are: history, science, social science, etc.  About the only fiction I read is the type that got me started on reading back when I was about 10 years old….good old science fiction!  Or, as they call it nowadays, sci-fi.  I think that the reason I find sci-fi (also called speculative fiction) appealing is that it kind of combines the areas of interest I mentioned: history, science and social science – who knows?  Back in the early sixties, I used to read all of the old favorites; Asimov, Bradbury, Clarke, Van Vogt, Bova, Dick, Heinlein, Leinster, Blish, Niven, Herbert, etc.  These authors and others wrote many classic sci-fi novels from the “Golden Age” of sci-fi in the 40′s and 50′s.  However, I can only recall literally staying up all night to read a sci-fi book (it was a school night) when I was around 12 years old.  Not sure why this story was so rivitting to me at the time.  It was written way back in the 30′s by two authors I had never read before nor since – Wylie and Balmer – and was entitled, “When Worlds Collide”.  In retrospect, it wasn’t that fantastic – though it was solid sci-fi for its time.  Today, while it’s hard to find good sci-fi authors, my favorites are: Neal Stephenson, Iain Banks, Greg Bear, Greg Benford, David Brin and Dan Simmons (just in case you ever want to start a new hobby, haha).  I only mention the story for its nostalgic value (to me;) and…for its title…because I wanted to talk about something more mundane, like; When Cultures Collide.

I really do see the karate dojo in America as a place where cultures meet – not collide, haha.  Even the most eclectic of systems keeps a lot of the mannerisms and trappings that were a part of the parent karate system or style.  The original cultural influence, of course, being Japanese/Okinawan/Chinese.  Some are obvious and found in every dojo, from New York to Honolulu, and elsewhere around the world.  Every Shotokan student wears a white gi, uses the color belt system, line up, bow, have senseis and sempais, train in barefeet, and so on.  And watching students go through the various kihon, kata, kumite movements, one would be hard-pressed to figure which state or country one is in.  I remember Sensei Peter telling me, that on a trip to Arizona a few years ago, he visited a Shotokan dojo and was very impressed with the Caucasian sensei.  He said that the instructor was very competent, strict, and seemed ”…more JKA, he’s more Japanese than us!”  Haha.  And I have found this same phenomenon elsewhere.  I remember helping teach in a California dojo, where the sensei was ”channeling” Japanese…in other words, if I blurred my vision a little, and watched/listened to him, I’d swear that he was from Japan (only 5’3″, he was actually from Guam – of Chamorran/Caucasian extraction).  Especially in dojos where the originating instructors were Japan nationals, long-time students strive to preserve much of what their instructors taught them…intentionally and unintentionally preserving and passing on their teachers’ knowledge, culture, and quirks too, haha.  Inevitably, the instructors (and students) infuse their training with large portions of their own native culture.  For example, here in the islands, we shed our “slippahs” to enter the dojo – in most of the American mainland, they slip off their shoes.  We have a relatively casual entry to our dojo, which I’ve encouraged - most of us wearing the gi pants and placing the top and belts after we arrive.  I remember in the old KAH dojo, footwear was neatly lined up, the gi was brought to the dojo, neatly folded, and we always changed in the changing room.  We never wore any part of the gi outside of the dojo.  Whereas our dojo is full of the Aloha spirit, there are many dojos where a fierce, serious martial attitude is continuously maintained.  We commence training with a short prayer - HIS Karate began as a church ministry in a church office 11 years ago.  The Japanese culture did not encourage questions asked of the instructor, and in the old dojos, the instructor barked out commands or criticisms, and students tried again, and again, and again.  On the contrary, our dojo encourages questions and the senseis do their best to answer.  Most JKA Shotokan style dojos will begin and end in the seiza position, with the Mokuso, followed by repeating of the Dojo Kun at the end of class – we don’t.  The Dojo Kun, by the way, is a pass-down of 5 Chinese precepts (there are scores of these philosophical/ethical sayings) that the old Okinawan Te masters believed in.  As I mentioned, each dojo is a blending of the style origins, the larger organization it belongs to, the instructor’s personality, and the home culture where training takes place – usually, a blend of various influences.

Here’s a funny memory.  About 30 years ago, a group of visiting JKA instructors from the Japan Hombu arrived at our dojo to train/teach with us.  They had stopped in Hawaii, enroute to other cities throughout the US.  As you know, we call out the commands and counts in Japanese, as was required by our organization.  I can’t speak any more Japanese than what we say in the dojo – and I’ve had a couple of my Japanese speaking friends laugh and tell me how i’m butchering the language, haha.  Anyways, during the first half, we local black belts would yell out the count in Japanese (“Ich!…Ni!…San!…and so on).  When it was the visiting instructors’ turn, they proceeded to count – “Huwon!..Tsu!…Tsurhee!..Fouah!…and so on).  I believe that they were trying to be courteous in a foreign country, by counting in english.  However, I can see where both groups of black belts were earnestly counting, and butchering each other’s native language, haha.  If we had both stuck to our own language, both groups would have had perfect counts!  I found this ironic…until a tiny thought crept into my head…What if they were subtly demonstrating what we always sounded like to them?

For the first 9 years, members of the Karate Association of Hawaii (KAH) were under the continuous guidance and instruction of three of the top JKA instructors – two were former All-JKA champions and graduates of the elite and prestigious JKA instructors program.  Each was a fine gentleman and master technician, however – none were particularly articulate in the english language, especially during their first years in America.  Much of what was learned occurred through the ”me do – you copy” method.  JKA culture, in particular, the university club culture; dominated the early years of training in Hawaii.  The JKA instructors would tend to take a promising student under their wing, and pour out their knowledge, especially if they could understand and speak fluent Japanese.  When you think about it, that’s only natural, since they could then articulate their explanations on technique, share their philosophy on karate-do, and just plain, “talk story” with these few.  In California, Sensei Trish would travel some 50 miles to train with Yabe Sensei in Gardena.  Yabe Sensei was one of the early All American Karate Federation (AAKF) champions and a long-time personal student of Nishiyama Sensei…a terrific technician, he was also a very nice man and so courteous and friendly to me when Trish introduced me to him.  Upon meeting him, I was surprised that he spoke with a slight Japanese accent – he had arrived in America as a teenager; and his native tongue was Japanese.  Similarly, here in Hawaii, Sensei Victor was one of the early, senior sempais of the KAH and still maintains a close relationship to his instructor, Kanazawa Sensei.  Sensei Vic is a kibei, meaning that he was born in Hawaii, but as a child, was sent by his parents back to Japan, coming back to Hawaii when he was 21.  He’s a local boy, but also speaks and understands perfect Japanese.  He is an 8th dan in the SKIF today.  Both men have a long-time affiliation with and deep understanding of karate-do.  They were both personal students of two of the earliest Japanese masters to bring Shotokan to our shores.  Their great advantage was that, in addition to undergoing hard physical training - they could easily converse and understand what these foreign instructors were saying, as well as the culture that karate-do came from.

In turn, as instructors, men such as James Yabe and Victor Takemori, serve as cultural bridges – having a foot in one culture and the other foot in another.  By the time most American students enter the dojo to train (your senseis included), most of the heavy lifting has been done.  The tedious, sometimes frustrating task of learning a new martial art, and the necessary cultural assimilation within the dojo, and adjustments made to create something comfortable/palatable for Americans was carried out by the first generation of trainees in America.  Looking at it another way, Senseis Wayne, Peter and me could be considered sansei (third generation) in relation to the first instructors who made their way here; just as we are sansei in relation to our immigrant grandparents.  Sensei Trisha is a yonsei – in more ways than one.  Each of us is an American and life-long kamaina…comfortable in the only island home we’ve known.  It should also feel comfortable in our dojo – after all, it is what we make of it.  However, I hope you never forget that we are merely the easy receipients of a body of knowledge and a syllabus that works well in our culture and society….I hope that we never take for granted, the sacrifices, perserverence  and hours of sweat that made this possible for us.