"Who's that?" I asked.

" That is Sensei my martial arts teacher."

My roommate does a kind of martial art called Shinkage Du. Before you can study Shinkage Du you must be an expert in Kung Fu. It is now very rare in Japan. There are only a few teachers of this lost art. It has been replaced by Kendo, which is a martial art that involves fighting with bamboo sticks. Shinkage Du is more basic in that it involves fighting with real swords. The swords are sharp and deadly. Many of them have interesting histories and were made 400 or 500 years ago. They were owned by famous samurai. They used to test the swords by seeing how many dead bodies they could cut through. After criminals were killed, their bodies were stacked on top of one another. Then they swung one of the great swords. A really good one would cut through 4 bodies with 1 swing. These swords now cost about 4 or $5,000 each. My roommate's teacher is the subject of this essay.

People have moved to Kyoto from all over the world just to study with this teacher. On Sunday October 1 they held one of their rare exhibitions (once every 2 years) at the local community martial arts center. I went and watched as different people demonstrated their sword skills by cutting down bamboo poles. The advanced students would be attacked by groups of 4 or 5 of the other students. The attackers wore special protective gear to prevent their heads from being chopped off. No one was injured. The following Saturday, the group held a party at my house. There was plenty of good food and beer and about 40 people attended. Around 9 PM the teacher showed up. 5 young beautiful women who were his Kung Fu students accompanied him. He was a nice looking Asian man who was dapperly dressed. He had a pencil thin mustache, white gloves, tinted glasses, and a fancy walking stick. A closer look revealed that he was older than he seemed at first glance. I learned later that he was 70 years old. He was whisked off upstairs to my roommate's room, which had been specially prepared with an easy chair facing the window, which had a great view of the eastern mountains surrounding Kyoto. Next to the chair was a table. The teacher sat in the chair and everyone else sat on the floor surrounding him. The 5 women flurried about him like moths around a flame. In addition there were other people who were included in the entourage. The vice president of the organization served as a sort of intermediary between the sensei and anyone who wanted to talk to him. Since I lived in the house I figured I had nothing to lose by walking around. I walked into the room unannounced. Two men sprang up between the teacher and me. I was asked who I was and I told them I lived there. A short conference took place. It was agreed that I would be introduced to the great man. I felt a bit uncomfortable, as I didn't know how to act. So I just stood there and listened as the teacher talked to me in Japanese with a sprinkling of English. He immediately gave me his card. This is the traditional thing to do when 2 Japanese men meet, they exchange cards. His was no ordinary card however. It folded out 6 times. On it were listed all of his accomplishments and titles.

The teacher smiled at me and said, "Big card".

I took the card and held it in my hands and gave a clumsy bow.

Outside one of the aids came up to me and told me, "You have been greatly honored. Keep that card with you always and good things will happen to you." I hastily retrieved the card from my back pocket where I had jammed it and smoothing it out said I would.

Downstairs they were cooking up 2 large salmons on the barbecue. Also there were 2 large lobsters that were being prepared for the sensei with a special sauce by 2 of the women. When it was ready a large tray was taken up. After about 15 minutes 2 of the women ran downstairs in a panic saying that the sensei wanted a toothpick and they had forgotten the toothpicks. They asked me if I had a toothpick. I offered to get them some of my dental floss but no, it had to be a toothpick. The women started to panic. Then I suggested as a kind of a joke that they could carve a chopstick down. I left the room for a minute and sure enough, when I came back there was a woman carving down a chopstick. I was a bit worried about the safety aspect of this endeavor and was about to say so when someone found a toothpick and offered it to the sensei. We all heaved a big sigh of relief.

I talked to the some of the women briefly. They said that they arranged their schedules so that at least one of them was always with the sensei. Sometimes 2 or 3 or 5. They did everything for him, cooking, cleaning, laundry etc. Now that is what I call good benefits. I would like to be a teacher like that. But in reality I would settle for medical and dental coverage with a deductible.
go to Frank`s home page pictures of the sensei story