Training With Chen--Ba Fan Shou--The 8 Tumbling Hands

I called the phone number that the kung fu coach had given me, and spoke to his son-in-law. He told me that Mr. Chen was somewhat famous in his home province of Shanxi, China. He said that Mr. Chen had learned kung fu since he was 11 years old, and had persevered through some very hard times during the Cultural Revolution. During that time, he had to practice and learn in secret for fear of persecution by the Red Guard or from being reported by other citizens. Mr. Chen's parents did not really approve of him learning kung fu during that time, and he had to keep it secret from them as well; but the young man's love for Chinese traditional martial art was deep and strong, and his teachers were willing only to teach serious students, because of the risk involved. I would get to see firsthand just how strong and deep his dedication was in the years to come. Mr. Chen had a couple of other students, but no formal class times. Basically I would pick him up at his daughter's house and drive to a place to do our training. The training was 2 hours long, with the first part consisted of the punching and kicking line drills I had seen at the Chinese school, the jibengong, as it is called in Chinese.

Before my first class, I called an old friend of mine and told him about the master I had met. My friend immediately decided to join me in training, and so we had the class ready. Mr. Chen began to teach us a powerful martial arts form that I had never seen. We had no translator, and therefore had no idea what we were learning. After each classs (twice a week), my friend and I would go to the diner and write up notes on what we learned. Over time, it seemed obvious that Mr. Chen taught martial arts differently than any teacher I ever had. Every movement was related to a martial arts application, which we drilled over and over again under his close supervision. The forms and applications had to be performed perfectly in order to avoid the loud "no" that Mr. Chen would immediately say when we made a mistake, followed by a patient correction. Repeated mistakes were followed by less patient corrections, and chronic mistakes were given the Royal Annoyance Treatment where Mr. Chen would throw his arms in the air and shriek "aghh...." while turning his back to us and walking away.

"My father is very strict about martial arts," his daughter told me over the phone. "He believes that martial art should be practiced correctly, and he is not afraid to voice his opinion. Sometimes he will see someone practicing in a park and go up and correct their mistakes. I have to rein him in sometimes, because he is very blunt about it. But he likes you very much. He says you learn quickly, and he enjoys teaching you. He told me to tell you that he wants to teach you this style first, it is called Ba Fan Shou. My father says this is a very old style, and not many people know this traditional style, not even in China. He says it is a very good style to learn because all of the movements are very good for fighting. My father believes strongly that Chinese traditional martial art must be good for fighting use, not just for show."

We were very happy to be learning a rare martial arts form, but I had no idea how rare it was until many years later. My friend and I trained at least twice a week with Mr. Chen and usually I met with him and trained another day or two a week because I couldn't seem to get enough. The Ba Fan Shou (Eight Tumbling Hands) taught us hundreds of ways to punch, grab, throw, trip and change from one application to another. The style was sometimes called "Mother/Son Fist" because each movement followed the next, and included counters and counters to the counters. This style was like an opening door for me because I finally knew that I had learned how to use Chinese Martial arts for real combat.

Mr. Chen liked to use me to demonstrate the martial uses, so I got thrown, kicked, punched and flipped. I got use to being hit pretty much everywhere, and became good at breaking falls to the ground. Mr. Chen did not go lightly on me, but he also never hurt me in practice. Occasionally someone would show up and be slightly challenging toward him in their approach, and he did deal a bit more harshly with them, causing them to never show up again. Mr. Chen was in his 60's at that time but clearly was in great shape and tough as nails. A few mishaps occurred in training, and once he was hit by an errant elbow, squarely in the face--he seemed impervious to pain. He could put his hand on a rock with just his pinky finger out, and he would allow you to smash his finger with your fist. I saw him do this rather disturbing stunt a couple of times, with the result always being the same. Mr. Chen would stare quietly ahead while the person trying to smash his finger would have to stop because they were hurting themselves. He had trained Iron body qigong and Iron Palm as well, and taught me the basics of the palm training. But he did not put emphasis on that training, as it required daily training and close supervision by the teacher (especially the Iron body qigong).

Next: More Training With The Master

Meeting Chen

After the children's kung fu class ended, a few adults began to assemble together, and the coach led them through the movements of the Yang Taiji 24 form. His demeanor with the adult taiji class was markedly less intense, and he smiled and encouraged the students during the class. For some reason, he did not seem to notice or acknowledge me or my friend, the only two non-Chinese in the room. We were sitting off to the side watching the class, yet the man never seemed to even glance in our direction. When the class ended, we continued to sit politely to the side while the students filed out of the room. It was time for me to go meet my teacher.

I walked across the room and greeted the Kung Fu teacher. He politely smiled, nodded and gave me his full attention as I began complimenting his teaching style, discussing my interest and experience in Chinese Martial Arts and asking if the classes were open to non-Chinese. For the first couple of minutes he looked very interested, before returning to that blank look I had seen during the kids kung fu class. He impatiently looked around and then pointed to his mouth and shaking his head. "You don't speak English" I remarked, brilliantly stating the obvious.
After a couple of minutes of searching for a friendly face, I convinced a woman to help me talk to the master.

At that point, the conversation really took off. I told him I had studied taijiquan and xingyiquan before, and that I was interested in pursuing xingyiquan. The man assured me that he knew xingyiquan, taijiquan, shaolinquan and he especially knew how to use those arts for fighting, not just for "show". That last part made my heart soar like a hawk. Here it was--a real martial arts master from China, and he was talking to me and answering my questions. But he wasn't about to accept me yet. He wanted to see me demonstrate some xingyiquan first. No problem. I had learned most of the Hebei style xingyiquan from a friend, and I had even gone so far as to attempt to teach it to others. I stepped into the middle of the room ready to show my xingyiquan off, when I noticed the man's expression as he watched me getting ready to get ready to do xingyi. Emotion-less. Vacuous. Serious. I went through a line drill of piquan, one of the basic five forms or wu xing. When I was finished I looked at the man and he looked at me. No words and no discernable expression--he spoke through the translator:

"Piquan?"
"yes".
He then mimicked my movement and shook his head, as if to say "wrong".
"But piquan is not a straight punch" he said, "it is moving from up to down"--he began to demonstrate the correct method of piquan, and I realized that I had never seen real xingyi before.
"Do you know how to use it?" he asked.
"Yes" I replied, a remark that I still regret to this day, because the kung fu coach asked me to show the useage of piquan. I had my friend throw a slow punch at me, which I deflected, grabbed and pulled down while simultaneously palm-striking at his face. This time the coach looked at me with a truly blank expression. All previous blank expressions could be described as animated compared to this new blank expression--my God, he was a master of blank expressions. Totally unimpressed by my demonstration of martial arts useage, he wagged his head and muttered his first words in English: "no, no, no".
Next, he wanted to show me the real useage of piquan, and I agreed immediately. My first real lesson from a xingyi master! Hooray!
He faced me and said: "Lai le" (which means "come on" in Chinese). I threw a lazy right punch toward him, this was for demonstration purposes I figured. The man stepped at a slight forty-five degree angle while absorbing the punch, and his next step seemed to go past me, taking my body backward and...........DOWN.

Yes, he had said that piquan was not a straight punch, that it went from up to down. I stood up, brushed off my clothing and smiled, convinced.
"I would like to learn from you sir".
He scribbled a phone number on a scrap of paper, with his name next to it.
It said: "Chen".

Next blog: Training With Chen

"Chen"

As a high school student in the early 1970's, I had the rare opportunity of studying at the infamous Shaolin Temple in the high mountains of Northcentral China. I heard a voice, very far away in the distance, calling to me.......Gary......Gary.......Gary.....GARY.......no matter how I tried, I could not escape the voice........

Yep, my mom was very persistent when it was time for me to get up for school. And my recurring dream about living in the Shaolin Temple would have to wait until the next episode of the TV show "Kung Fu" starring David Carradine. Fast forward to 1999, a watershed year in my life. I had been pursuing my kung fu dream for many years, with varying degrees of success, until I met Mr. Chen. My kung fu dream was a difficult one to pursue in the 1980's and 1990's. Finding good teachers was not so easy and often the ones who were skilled were, well, basically jerks. In the kung fu movies the masters were so wise, compassionate, and enlightened. There superhuman powers were not obvious to the world because they were humble and at peace in their hearts and souls. There was never any doubt in my mind. I knew that I would be led to one (or more) of these masters, and my destiny would be fulfilled. I was persistent in my search, and checked out a lot of Chinese Martial Art teachers. Some I stayed with for years, and some were in my life for months, weeks, or days. More often than not, these teachers positioned themselves as "having it", and the students basically didn't have it. They distributed their knowledge in accordance with some very unclear criteria that seemed to have something to do with whether or not you could be useful to them. It wasn't just the money--they were looking for fame, status and social standing.

I trained pretty hard in those days, always wishing that the teacher would recognize me as "the one" who would receive some of the real secret training. I figured if I worked hard enough--lived, breathed and embodied the true spirit of the Shaolin Temple, my diligence would pay off. A good friend of mine often says: "The truth always reveals itself", and such was my experience with teacher after teacher. Eventually their true colors would come out, and that would be my time to move on. No point in going into their transgressions, weaknesses or unimpressive behaviors here--suffice to say that when the time came for me to move on, I moved on.

In 1999, I was teaching taijiquan and Chinese Martial Arts in my friend's massage school in Parsippany NJ. Like I said, I had paid my dues and was fairly competent at the material I had learned. Progressively, my choice in teachers had become more discriminating and I had something to teach in those days. One day, one of my students told me:
"There's a guy teaching kung fu at the Chinese school, I heard he was a coach in Beijing."
The following weekend, we went down to the Chinese school to observe the man teaching. First we watched him teaching traditional Shaolin kung fu to young Chinese children. Wearing the customary matching sportswear (white and blue) outfit of a wushu coach, the first thing I noticed about the man was the stern expression on his face as he watched the children go through their simple punches, kicks and line drills. He watched their every move with the eyes of a hawk. The expression on his face was impossible to describe in words--he watched intently yet his faced conveyed no emotion whatsoever. Little did I know at that moment that those same line drills would become my twice daily companions for the next five or six years of my life. And for the next three years, I would be the object of that scrutiny--that same stern look; the piercing eyes that observed every improperly executed step. That same face of a man who was to become my first real teacher, not just of taijiquan and kung fu. What Mr. Chen taught me most about was his passion for his art. I want to tell this story in upcoming blogs and hope some people will read about my time with Mr. Chen Jun Hao and what he gave me.

Spyderco Mini Persian!

In the true spirit of the holidays, I'd like to discuss an awesome gift I received: the Spyderco Mini Persian, a pocketknife that is held in high esteem by collectors/users. The Spyderco company is located in Golden, Colorado but also manufactures knives in Seiki City, Japan and China. There Chinese knives are generally set at a lower price, while still conforming to Spyderco's legendary standards of quality control.

Now, let's get to the knife. The Mini Persian is the little brother to the discontinued larger Persian, and the mini comes in with a blade that appears to be just under three inches. That keeps this knife at just below the "legal" limit in many states, and is a perfect size for EDC (Every Day Carry) use and tasks. Yes, I can hear the non-knife carrying people asking now: what tasks?
Here's a few:

Cutting apples
Opening Packages
Opening Mail
Cutting a Seatbelt in Emergency

And the list goes on. Before I go into more details of my prized knife, I want to address the irrational hysteria that surrounds the humble pocketknife. In my world, a knife is a tool that has too many uses to ever not be carried on my person. I have also found that the knife performs best (and safest) when it is razor-sharp. At this point I have to add another use: self-defense. Sorry to have to mention this, but it is true that we share our planet with people who would do bad things to us if they could. It is a good thing to have a warrior mentality, and some things that could possibly save our lives, or the lives of our loved ones. Those who avoid facing, preparing or training for this unpleasant (yet possible) reality are known as "Sheeple".

But the primary reason for carrying a knife are the multitude of tasks that appear on a daily basis. Start carrying one, and soon you'll see what I mean. Don't be afraid. Stay within the legal limits of your jurisdiction, and buy a good quality folding knife. Carry it on your person--don't leave it at home in a drawer out of fear.

The Mini Persian is a design that was manufactured by Spyderco using a design by a custom knife maker named Ed Schempp. I am not familiar with his designs, but generally speaking custom knives will cost between two and ten times the amount of manufacturers knives. Custom knives are often called "safe queens" because people will often keep them at home in a safe, for their collectible value. Others will use the knives hard in wilderness situations, whether it be camping, survival training or other uses.
The Spyderco Mini Persian would sometimes be referred to as a "gentleman's folder" due to its more polished appearance, e.g., the polished Micarta handles and stainless steel bolsters.

Spyderco knives are also known for their amazing ergonomics--hold one in your hand and the knife will usually feel like an extension of your body. And then we come to the cool factor, which only a knife person would understand. This knife feels and looks cool. There is that satisfying "click" when the blade locks open or closed. And there is that feeling of connection with a tool that has been used and carried by frontiersman, settlers, ranchers, soldiers and people of all kinds. The knife is such a basic tool, and one that goes deep onto our DNA--primitive men banged rocks against other rocks to get sharp edges (ancient knives).

The fact that people raise their eyebrows; feel uncomfortable ; complain at the workplace if someone produces a Swiss Army Knife to open a package (oy!); that's just too much PC for me. If the Spyderco Persian, with it's Eastern-influenced up-swept blade scares you, try the Victorinox Swiss Army Knives, which have scissors and other useful implements on them. But please.....if you are reading this blog--please drop your fear of the humble pocketknife. You don't have to become a knife nut like me; admittedly I've gone too far, though not nearly as far as some of the true fanatics on the internet knife forums. BTW, stay out of the forums, you will end up believing that their are hundreds of knives that you must have.
I say that one or two good knives is enough for you. Buy good quality and take care of them and they will outlive you, just like any good tool should.