Train, Drink, Eat. (Repeat)

By Liesbeth Van Den Berg

Liesbeth is a third level student at Wu Dao

Our taxi driver whisks us from the grey and depressing train station of Zhengzhou to the dusty outskirts of Dengfeng. We pass by a good number of temples, and admire the Songshan Mountains, before turning left into a gated driveway, onto the sprawling grounds of Xiao Long Wushu School. Boys of all sizes (and the odd girl) litter the square, all wearing the red and black school uniforms. The only adults in sight are the occasional tourists who stay in the hotel by the same name, the same hotel that Shifu Shi de Cheng calls headquarters for his own semi-independent shaolin kung fu school.

Xiao Long Wushu School has about 4000 students, ranging from about 5 to maybe 14 years old. The boys all live here. During training, the kids are subjected to military-style discipline. Can't quite do that split? No problem, the instructor will push you down into one until you start crying (Not all of them, of course, but we happened to train next to a particularly mean and grumpy instructor. It was hard to watch). In contrast, in between training hours, the kids just roam around the premises completely unsupervised. They pee everywhere, also in buildings, litter the grounds, crowd and elbow their way into the dining hall and totally trash it, tossing food they do not like on the floor. When one of the younger ones is crying, there is no adult around to check on him, he just has to tough it out. Only the physical aspects of kung fu are taught, it appears. On checking the school's website, I read the children are taught Buddhology as part of their academic curriculum, but applying this to everyday life is too big a leap for the kids (and staff!).

Shifu travels a lot, but during the summer months he teaches, mostly (if not solely) his European and American students. Some are from schools he visits every year, some are his disciples, and others flock here because of Shifu’s reputation as an excellent martial artist and teacher.

We receive a warm welcome in Shifu’s personal quarters, where he pours us tea, and brings us up-to-date on training-related issues. Classes are two hours each, twice a day, from 8:30 to 10:30 AM, then again from 4 to 6 PM. The training is rigorous and fast-paced, but we manage to keep up, mostly. Classes are held outside on the square in front of the hotel. It's been around 90 and humid, so we are usually drenched within 5 minutes. We start with stationary warm-up, go for a run, do some more warm-ups, stretch. Then it's ALL ji ben gong, all 20 drills (there are 18 official ones, but Shifu added two of his own) for the last half hour. I am an orange belt at Wu Dao, and my 8-year-old son is also a student there. We are only familiar with a couple of the “easier” drills. Then there is my husband, who has never practiced kung fu at all! The inevitable fumbling and panting aside, we learn incredibly fast. Shifu’s instructors Kai Li and Wei Chong are very patient with us.

The second hour is reserved for open training. Most students practice their forms, but we do ji ben gong only, for obvious reasons. We decide to try and tackle one to three ji ben gong drills every day, depending on the degree of complexity, doing them over and over again. At first we have trouble just to remember so many new moves, but after about three days, the choreography becomes familiar, and we start to work on implementing each drill correctly. We feel pretty good about ourselves after day one, not being too sore or out of breath. Another day later, however, sore muscles have us vegetating in our hotel room all day, alternating between taking naps and watching the Olympics on tv. The many sightseeing trips we had planned on taking in between morning and afternoon classes never happen: our minds and bodies beg for rest and relaxation, and apart from that, all we can think and talk about is our next training session. In speaking with our fellow students, we hear they all spend their days the same way. When the soreness finally subsides after about three days, torn ligaments in our thighs start rearing their ugly heads. Flying kicks and sweeps, anyone?

Shifu usually teaches the t’ai chi students the first hour, then comes around to instruct everyone during open training. Most of our fellow students practice their staff, sword, double-sword, and fan forms. A good number of people return here regularly, sometimes staying for six months or longer. It’s a fun group of people, very motivated and inspiring. Of course it’s easy to find things to talk about, as we are all here because we love kung fu!

Three days into our training, Shifu decides to take us on a trip to the Shaolin Monastery, where he lived for many years. A fellow student describes the monastery as “Chinese Disneyland” because of the large amounts of tourists it attracts. It also has gift shops, and a theater where Shaolin “shows” are being performed, a mix of martial arts and acrobatics. When we arrive at the monastery at 5 in the morning, we are lucky enough to see only monks on their morning run. I had heard and read many negative recommendations about the monastery (too busy, many new-ish buildings), but I have to say: standing in the deserted courtyard at sunrise, in the company of Shifu, listening to the drums and chanting of the morning prayers, I feel very much at peace, and grateful for this experience.

Afterwards we hike through the forest, up the many steep steps to the top of one of the beautifully green mountains, where Bodhidharma meditated for nine years in a remote cave. Shifu tells us he used to have to run up these steps (about a 45-minute climb) every morning as part of his training! It’s a rare blue-sky day, and the only thought that manages to get through the songs of the cicadas, is that there is no place I would rather be.