Most people believe
that pride and humility are direct opposites. They spend their martial
arts lives wrapped up in attaining one or the other but never both.
Some would even go as far as to say that the two could not possibly
exist together. But each time I unwrap my belt, the ritual reminds
me that pride and humility in the martial arts go hand-in-hand.
To explore the
origin of this tradition of belt wrapping, we should go back to the
place and time of it's birth, Okinawa, sometime in the 1700's. Picture
yourself as one of the earliest students of karate. Your Sensei could
have been one of the founding father's, such as Bushi Matsumura or
Karate Sakugawa. You would have trained more out of necessity than
want. Your training uniform would have been more like the clothes
that you wore daily, instead of a uniform that is associated with
karate training today. Your Sensei would have been more with training
you to save your life in a real combat situation than he would have
been with keeping you and your dues around to pay the dojo rent. In
short he would have trained you into the ground, kicked your behind
on a regular basis and not given a rat's whisker whether or not you
returned the next night.
After a gruelling
session of training, you would have thanked your Sensei and readied
yourself for a midnight stroll home. Since your training probably
would have been done in secrecy, you would have rolled your obi into
your furoskiki (a common carry-all used in those days) and tried to
look as inconspicuous as possible for your walk. Those who have spent
time in Okinawa know first hand that it is a very hot and humid place.
When training there, you perspire profusely. If you had trained hard,
your obi would have been soaked with sweat when you wrapped it up
at the end of the evening training.
A sweat filled
obi wrapped up in a furoshiki does a peculiar thing when it sit's
around for a while in a humid climate. It gets very mouldy after a
few months. So back in Okinawa, you would have unrolled you obi one
night after many months of hard training, only to find that it was
moulded and turning green. And you can bet your Sensei would have
noticed, too. Be assured that this did not happen quickly or easily.
There was also no definite point of change. You did not come to test
one night as a fifth kyu, and leave as a fourth kyu. You just went
home with a slightly mouldier belt. It was a slow process. But bit
by bit it did turn green and your Sensei knew that you had been around
for a while.
Night after night
you return to train. Again and again, your Sensei or your Sempai would
slam you into the dirt. Your obi would be ground into the dirt floor
training area and you would wrap it each night, a little sweatier
and a little dirtier. And each night at the beginning of a new training
session you would have opened it to find it a bit mouldier. Can you
guess what happens when layers of green mould dies? You're right;
it turns brown. And at this point, you were becoming a brown belt.
Of course the process to this point took a few years at the least.
It had nothing to to do with paying dues or winning tournaments. Each
night during your training session, Sensei would take note of all
the obi's and decide which were the dirtiest and the mouldiest. At
the end of the training, he would then line up the students by rank
according to this observation.
The condition
of the obi not only proclaimed you time and experience in training,
but how much you had hit the dirt as well. Thus, you, as a student,
could have pride in the fact that you had continued training long
enough for it to show in your belt. At the same time, you would feel
humbled in the fact that the dirt in your belt proved that you have
been thrown to the ground by your seniors many times before. It is
in this manner that pride and humility co-exist. At this point, you
may be wondering what all this has to do with keeping your belt wrapped
up in a furoshiki today. You may ask, "Why should we keep such an
archaic ritual alive?" It is because of the word "sincerity" listed
in the Dojo Kun ( Be Sincere or Be Faithful ). If your sensei looks
at your obi and sees much dirt and sweat, he knows that you have been
training long and hard. But what if the majority of that dirt did
not get on your belt during actual training? Then you are giving a
false representation of your training and your experience to your
Sensei and fellow Karate-ka. Therefore in an effort to keep the Dojo
Kun, you must protect your obi from dirt when you are not training.
This means that as soon as you have stopped your training session,
you should wrap your belt in the forushiki. This brings up another
question, "Should you wash your belt?" The answer is absolutely not!
To wash your belt is to wash away the symbol of your experience. In
the old days, good Japanese belts were made to fall apart if washed.
This ment that if you washed your belt, you had to start the process
all over again with a new belt.
Since the belt
is a symbol of one's experience, it should be treated with care and
respect. It should not be dragged on the floor, left to lie around
in locker rooms or the back seats of cars. It is also considered rude
to touch another person's belt without their permission. Students
must never wear their obi till they have entered the Dojo and they
must remove it and wrap it before leaving. If a Karate-Ka leaves their
belt behind or lying around out of the wrap, the student looses the
belt until the Sensei sees fit to give it back.
The great Karate
master Gichin Funakoshi writes in his book "Karate-Do My Way of Life"
of an altercation he had one evening while walking home. He tells
of a man who attacked him on the street and tried to rob him. The
robber demanded for Funakoshi Sensei to hand over his furoshiki (Carry-all).
The master said that all he had in the furoshiki was an empty lunch
box and some books. Nevertheless, master Funakoshi chose to physically
subdue his assailant (poor guy) rather than hand it over. Given the
none-violent philosophy of the great master, it makes one wonder what
he really had inside his furoshiki.
The above is an
excerpt of Sensei Jeffery Day's article "The Tradition Of Pride &
Humility"
If a Karate-Ka
has sincerely (with sweat and spirit) earned their belt in our Dojo
where they've had to block, kick, strike and punch in a hard/fast-style
(Go Suko-Ryu) and never given up. Then you would certainly not want
to lose or treat your obi with disrespect because you have honestly
earned the right to wear it. Remember a belt is just a belt until
it is given a Karate-Ka then it becomes an obi and the more you train
the greater meaning this will have.