Kendo

Every time I step into Japan I feel it is the result of some unspoken quest for me to visit a past life. It does fall naturally that I do come from a Japanese background. It was thus that when I did settle into Naraha on the Coast of Fukushima, I found it quite serendipitous that the room adjacent to my place of residence happened to be the local Kendo Dojo. Kendo was the ancient practice of the samurai that populated Japan's islands in the days when my ancestors lived out their days in southern Japan. I have deduced that my family name "Hatanaka" likely comes from the name of a samurai clan. I do not know the accuracy of this, but I have noticed that my life seems to give me hints to this past. It was in this way that Kendo weaved into my life. There is another common preoccupation with my thoughts that notices that my life has also put me in close ties with Native Americans. I have found that both the Native American and Japanese culture share striking resemblances. For instance, very recently I have come to discover that the natives often observed their surrounding and took clues from the animals that they came in contact with to give insight into how to best steer their lives. They also took this from the vegetation in their environment. For instance, there is the Aspen tree, which grows abundantly in my hometown. It is a tree that means discipline as the practice of Kendo similarly embodies.

Kendo is a practice which I reflect back on now with my feet. In the winter when I practiced it, my feet were cold and in the summer they were hot and sweaty on the wooden floors surface. The outward appearance of Kendo is a movement of strikes with the hand and a wooden sword. However, the sound of Kendo comes from the feet, which is the silent dedicated, talented leader of the body. Execution of the technique came from the feet and required discipline of the feet and I had sore feet afterward.

I was introduced to Kendo in the beginning by the consumption of alcohol under the title of "Welcome Party." It was in this way that I both experienced some challenges of life and this also opened some of the most beautiful doors that I would open in Naraha. In those first days, I was introduced to Ashiguchi San and Matsumoto San. Matsumoto San had founded the Kendo Dojo when he was the age that I was when I first met him. He did it with determination and I very much respected the man and still do. I would later become aware that he seemed to hold a place in the workings of the local community and that he also maintained an organic farm that used "natural pesticides" in the form of cute little chicks that he would let into his garden at 4 am every morning. The little yellow furballs would chirp in delight as they prepared to feast on all things bug-related or "pest" related. Ashiguchi was the man who opened his home and family to me when I arrived in Japan. His eyes lit up when I expressed that I wanted to join the local Kendo club. He would knock on my door in the winter periodically either to take me out to delicious eateries or to let me know that Kendo practice was beginning.

It was through being part of the Kendo club that would also lead me to be introduced to Iyo. She lived in The Tokyo big city, but was the daughter of Matsumoto San. We rapidly developed a close friendship as we shared a similar passion for music and art. I'd weave with her in Tokyo occasionally and we'd meet at the airport and then she'd return to her home and explain to me the culture shock that she even had to deal with when returning home to her roots. When I ventured to Tokyo I did so by frequenting the green Joban Line. It was the train line that stretched from the Tokyo metropolis and extended to Sendai. It spanned three prefectures north and it was a train line that I came to know well. My journey on the train line did not start in 2009 however, but in fact resumed there. My second journey to Japan had followed similar tracks but in different places.