"Ga-ray, Ga-ray"

I wandered down through the lobby of the hotel, and stepped out into the hot summer morning. I had my Chinese phrase book with me, in case I needed to communicate because Alicia and Pei Pei had not yet come looking for me. The area outside the hotel was crawling with people but two men caught my attention as I meandered around, happily occupied in my "foreign people watching." The one man was a huge, powerful-looking hulk of a guy, and I immediately took him to be a martial artist. He was smoking a cigarette and talking with an older, smaller man. The smaller man had a powerful presence about him as well, and I had no doubt that he was also a martial artist. There was something about these two men--they looked so...........authentic. I strolled toward them, trying to keep a low profile, but as I got closer the bigger one turned and looked at me with a broad, welcoming, stained-tooth smile. I smiled back and he nodded his head as if to say hello, and then he spoke in a booming voice to his friend, the older man. The older man looked at me also, but with less interest. He was not exactly unfriendly, it was just that his eyes were so piercing. I spoke some English to the big man, but he shook his head. So I pulled out my phrasebook and between my questionable Mandarin pronunciation and my ability to point at drawings and Chinese characters, we managed a pretty good chat.
"Are you two men here for the competition?"
"Yes, you?"
"Yes"--at this point the two looked at each other and then back at me, amazed.
"You are here to compete in xingyiquan?" asked the big man.
"Yes, I've come from America, the USA"
The big man was impressed but the older, small one looked stern.
"My name is Gary"
"Ga-ray?"
"Yes, Gary"
"Ah, Ga-ray"
"My name is Yu Chang Lin, and this is my teacher"
"Ah, your teacher, 'ni hao shirfu' " I bowed to the teacher respectfully, and he responded by looking more closely at me, chuckling and saying something in Chinese to the big man.
They both laughed, and I laughed too, having no idea if I was the butt of a joke or not.
Yu Chang Lin handed me a business card filled with Chinese characters on one side and English on the other. It said: "NANJING XINGYIQUAN ASSOCIATION' , Yu Chang Lin. Yu wrote his hotel room number on it, and twenty minutes later I went up and met them in their room, ready to eat breakfast with my new xingyi boxer friends.

Yu's room and several adjoining rooms were occupied by other members of the Nanjing Xingyiquan Association. I stepped into the room and it seemed that about twenty people took turns patting me on the back, examining my biceps, studying my shoes and commenting back and forth in a lively fashion. Next, they wanted to see my "santi". Santi is the basic stance, common to all styles of xingyiquan--it is the core of the art, and most xingyiquan boxers used santi as a training stance. They commonly hold this posture for up to one hour. There was no time for me to feel self-conscious or weird; they all stood back and waited for me to show my stance, so I did. Well, they were not overly impressed at all--and one man in particular gently readjusted my posture. This was Sun Jin Quan, another xingyi boxer who would teach and show me many things in the weeks to come.

I marched down to the hotel dining room, surrounded by my new friends from the Nanjing Xingyiquan association. Every door we approached would be opened and they would insist that I walk through before them. They were elegant and polite to a tee, and yet these guys exuded power--it was a fascinating balance that I had seen in Mr. Chen back in America, and I wanted to be a part of whatever it was that they had. The food in Shanxi Province was strange to me. There was a kind of sour noodle concoction that was very popular in that region but I couldn't stomach it. The congee (soup-like rice) was okay, and I knew what a hard boiled egg was. The cuisine at that hotel was to become a problem for me, but I just attributed the strangeness to my Westernized palate. The Nanjing boxers invited me to train with them in the mornings, before breakfast and I gratefully accepted the opportunity. Over the next few weeks, whenever I would be walking down a street or going into the hotel, one or several of my new friends would be calling me: "Ga-ray, Ga-ray...."

Alicia and Pei Pei, the college girl translators, found me and frantically told me that I had to go with them to meet Master Zhang Xi gui, the tournament director and one of the Top 100 Martial Arts Masters of China. Master Zhang was also my teacher's kung fu brother, and so I was learning from the same lineage. I retrieved the letter Mr. Chen had written, and got ready to meet Zhang Xi gui but first Alicia and Pei Pei introduced me to a woman who worked for the biggest newspaper in Taiyuan. I consented to the first of several interviews for the Chinese media, and they all went about the same way. First they would want to take my picture, but not a normal picture. I had to adopt a martial arts stance for their pictures, which was really kind of embarassing because wherever I was, a small (or large) crowd would gather to watch whatever it was I was doing. It was constant. If I was in a shop buying something, people would crowd to see what it was. So, every time a reporter would ask me to pose in a martial arts stance, I would try to get out of doing it; yet I was never able to talk my way out of doing it. The interviews went like this:

"Welcome to China, do you enjoy Chinese food?"
"Yes, it is great."
"How do you like our city?"
"Very nice, it's great, really."
"What do you think of the new construction in our city?"
"New construction? Oh, impressive, impressive.."
"How does it compare with the construction in USA?"
"Well, I don't know."
Usually this answer would make the reporter very uncomfortable, so I would try to elaborate.
"I suppose the construction here is equal to the level I have seen in the USA, sometimes even better."

Alicia and Pei Pei led me into Master Zhang Xigui's hotel room, which was filled with people. Mr. Chen had recommended I give Zhang a gift, which I did. I also handed him the letter that Mr. Chen had written, which Master Zhang solemnly opened and read in front of me.
He spoke to me through the translators.

"So you've learned some xingyiquan from Chen Sifu, please show me what you've learned."
"Yes, ah, what would you like me to show?"
"Jin Tui Lian Huan Quan" he replied, referring the famous xingyi connecting form.
I was mortified.
Sitting in front of me was one of the top masters in China, and several of his friends and associates. As I stood up to begin, I felt light-headed, hot, thirsty, dehydrated, hungry and nauseous. My legs felt rubbery, and as I glanced at Zhang Xi gui, he seemed to have a sneer on his face. I had one good thing going for me--Mr. Chen had scrutinized me going through this form hundreds of times.
When I was finished, I walked back to my chair and sat down as Zhang spoke.
"That was very good. But when you move in xingyiquan, everything must arrive at the same time including your fist, your step and your butt." He gave me a few seconds to ponder his advice.
"I understand that you are interested to learn some tanglang quan (praying mantis fist)--I will arrange for you to learn from my student."
I was soon to be training in praying mantis kung fu twice a day, competing in the tournament and getting tips on xingyi boxing from the Yu Chang Lin, Sun Jin Quan and the other Nanjing team. Mr. Chen had helped me to be physically ready for this trip, but I was about to take the fast track to over training, exhaustion and two different Chinese hospitals.

Next: Praying Mantis Master