Living in London can be a dangerous business. You constantly hear about flats being broken into, unprovoked attacks on the street and drunken brawls in clubs. And although most of the bars I frequent are more likely to see cat fights than fisticuffs (I do love a good scratch-match...), a boy still has to know how to protect himself. So, for Day 25’s new experience, I enrolled in a Martial Arts class. If you’re expecting Fight Club, get ready to think again.
For my initiation into the Way of the Ninja, I found a master class in Silat, an Indonesia-Malay form of Martial Arts. Although Silat does not have the same Hollywood-built reputation as Karate for example, its objectives are similar. One practices Silat to learn how to defend, not how to attack. And, as Mas Otto (our Sensei for the evening) explained, Silat teaches the intuition to know how to avoid combat, rather than master it. Deep stuff. Otto also told me that the big key to Silat is silence, and that even he – who had been practicing for fifty years – was still learning how to be quieter. Given my lack of coordination, I didn’t feel that this would go well. The words “bull” and “china shop” spring to mind...
Upon entering the North London studio used for our class, it quickly became apparent that I was the “new kid”. I had assumed that Silat would be like any other sporting activity and had dressed accordingly: shorts and an old, unflattering t-shirt. I had assumed wrong. My fellow classmates were all dressed in white, most of them in full martial arts gear and all without exception in trousers. I was awkwardly told that shorts were not really the “done thing” for both safety and hygiene reasons, but they’d let it go just this once. Good start, Rich, good start… After washing our hands and faces – as is customary, according to Indonesian tradition – we began our lesson.
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| This obviously isn't me... |
The session kicked off with a quick relaxation to get us in the zone and “block out external and superfluous thoughts”. If my memory of what followed is a bit patchy, this would probably explain why. We then warmed up with a few stretches. “Warmed up” is definitely an understatement. The stretching routine was intense, and even more strenuous than Day 13’s Yoga adventure. My classmates were clearly well-trained and had the physiques to prove it. I, on the other hand, was a bit of a mess. Our pre-fight preparations ended with a 10 minute sprint around the room. I was shattered and we’d only just begun.
Then came the bit we’d all been waiting for. It was time to start the combat: this young grasshopper was about to get fierce. We stood in a line facing our instructor Aran and watched as he demonstrated what we’d be doing. Quick punch with the right fist, turn and punch with the left fist. I copied him, throwing myself into my punches with cries of “hiiiii-YA!!!” I felt like an expert already. Unfortunately, I was wrong. Aran had a lot to correct me on: the angle of my feet, the tightness of my fists, the placement of my elbows, the level of my shoulders.It turns out that Kung Fu Fighting is much more complicated than simply “Wax On, Wax Off”. After an hour or so of trying different moves, ranging from single punches to travelling high kicks and choreographed combat, I was feeling slightly more comfortable. Maybe I could become a Master of the Martial Arts after all (lolz, who am I kidding?!)
By the end of the lesson, I was really quite beat. My body felt like it had been through a food processor, but the experience wasn’t over yet: we finished off with a grueling set of sit-ups, press-ups and back-ups (yes, those last ones were new to me too). Achieving Ninja-status clearly isn’t for the weak.
The class was brilliant fun and I’d recommend it to anyone. Still, Silat is not something you learn in one day, for sure. This is a complicated art, which perhaps one can never fully master. I'm going to keep telling myself that; it makes my inadequacy seem less pathetic, at least. Happy days.
Day 25: Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. SORTED!
Peace & Love,
Rich xx
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