Kendo Kids

You may not know this, but my house stands next to a kendo dojo.  Practice is every Tuesday and Saturday, which I knew well before I talked to anyone about it, as the dulcet sounds of children screaming at the top of their lungs could be heard from my living room.  Even knowing all this, I’d never set foot inside the dojo until yesterday.

It’s hard to say exactly why I waited so long.  I know a part of it has to do with my innate procrastination, but there were other factors as well.  Fun as it is, practicing kendo is still more work.  I’m now regularly putting in ten-hour days by staying after and playing with the kids.  While my workday technically ends, as it always has, around four, it makes the exercise and practice no less tiring.  The prospect of getting home around seven and going out to do even more exercise is none too appealing.  Lastly, though I’ve been here for well over a year I don’t feel like I’ve made too many Japanese friends and the thought of any kind of social interaction still fills me with hesitation.  I no longer feel like I’m terrible at Japanese, but speaking has always been my weakest point, as I imagine it is for most people.

Putting all of that aside, I finally decided to go over to the dojo yesterday.  Like the junior high kendo club before it (which I went to on Monday), I was expecting to just go over and watch the kids smack each other with shinai (竹刀,bamboo swords) but was once again asked to join in.  I was paired up with the youngest kids who, like me, didn’t wear the full set of gear you usually need to play.  We practiced the proper way to perform the aisatsu (あいさつ, greeting) and strikes to the men (面, helmet).  Our teacher, who I believe is one of my student’s parents, assured me that I was doing well, but one of the girls thought otherwise and was helping to correct my form.  You’d think getting schooled by a seven year old would be embarrassing or degrading, but it was just too adorable for me to care.

Speaking of being adorable, the two girls were having such a great time asking me what random Japanese words were in English.  They started with the obvious kendo, dojo, shinai, etc. which are all the same in English because they originated in Japan.  I think they grew a little bored of me saying “X is X in English” and began what has to be the most random assortment of words I’ve been asked to translate.  They learned milk, ceiling, wall, clothes, good evening, and a number of colors.  One of the girls then proceeded to yell “milk” at everyone who entered the dojo.  Why is anybody’s guess, but it was certainly amusing.

At the end of the day, I joined the kids for their closing meditation, a stark contrast sitting alongside my tiniest kids, helped clean the dojo, and had my picture taken with everyone.  It was a fantastic experience.  I’ve been invited to go whenever I’d like, and though it may be a while, as my nearest free day is a week from Saturday, I’m definitely looking forward to it.  I’m beginning to get the feeling that certain sports attract certain kinds of people.  While not concrete fact, I’ve found that kendo kids tend to be very polite and, somewhat ironically, quiet.  This may help explain why, more than any other activity, I’ve received a warm and accommodating reception from my kendo clubs.