Day 6 - The Joys of Youth

We began the morning as always, 10 laps around the pagoda. I arrived late, just as the others had finished, so completed the rounds alone. Then I joined in the line of kicking drills, and continued with them when the others turned to jumping or set handsprings on the concrete pavilion.

While the bigger boys learned their huge spear? Routine, we six lower lifers did my routine. 30 times, was Master’s wish. But he let us off easy after about 20. I was able to keep up, mostly, except for the last five moves or so. One boy calls out the cadence and we all react. He even liked to fool us, watching us do the next step although he had not told us to with „zo!“ I don’t speak Chinese, but I guess what he said was, „I did not tell you to go ahead with the next step!“

The afternoon session began once again with laps. I ran with the boys and soon found a couple in need of tying their shoes – on the backside of the pagoda, out of view of the Master. Ah, the joys of youth – and middle age. I soon joined them to show solidarity, tying one of the boy’s laces for him. Thank you, he replied.

Now that I had demonstrated my ability to perform the routine, what did Master have planned for me? He barked at me, held his hands up: five ten. 50 repetitions. No way, Jose. I managed at most a scant dozen.

Now that I had demonstrated my ability to perform the routine, what did Master have planned for me? He barked at me, held his hands up: five ten. 50 repetitions. No way, Jose. I managed at most a scant dozen.

Tourists come and mill around. Many like to photograph us performing our routines. This bothers me. I feel singled out not because I am practicing kung fu, but because I am a foreigner practicing kung fu. China is even more notorious than Japan in its desire to photograph the foreigner. I usually accept when someone wants to be in a photo with me. But – as was the case the other day in the cafeteria – when I am eating lunch and someone wants to photograph the monkey using chopsticks, I balk. Thank Buddha that a monk intervened before the woman could release the shutter. And so today, as on a few previous occasions, I interrupted my routine to avoid the tourists‘ prying camera.

When the others departed, I gathered my bag and jacket, but Master pointed me back to my place on the pavillion. Two, his fingers read. Not sure what that meant, I did two more repetitions, waited until the coast was clear and left the arena.