Ray and Kokoro took rank tests on the 20th. Kokoro was testing for 6 kyu jun and Ray for 2 kyu jun. The “jun” ranks are “pre” ranks put in place to make kids take twice as many tests between one full kyu and the next. The kids have colored belts (Aikikai in general sticks to the white belt/black belt plan) that change color in unclear (to me) increments.
Honbu uses white, yellow, orange, blue, purple and brown. After brown, the kids must wait until they turn 15 before they are allowed to test for black belt. For some, I think this may end up being a bit frustrating but it makes good sense since black belt really needs to mean something. Recent tradition holds that it is awarded at the first step or shodan (初段). It has been said that black belts are awarded when a student knows enough to *begin* learning. Based on that idea, it is hard for me to believe that most kids younger than about fifteen, no matter how physically talented or martially gifted, are really ready for shodan. My son, about whom I dearly love to brag (so please bear with me), started training at five. He is now ten and has just tested for a 2nd kyu rank (2nd and a half if you prefer). At his current pace he will hit brown belt and have to wait for promotion for several years. It’s harder to imagine with Kokoro but she may end up in the same boat too.
The most pressing concern however is Ray’s belt. He has had the same purple belt for almost two years and he has grown a lot in that time. He now ties the knot with the tips of the belt and really needs a longer one to hold his jacket closed. 🙂 We hope he passes for his sake but as a fashion forward father I really would like to see him in better fitting clothes. 🙂
The tests themselves are held in private. The doors are closed and parents are not allowed in to watch. There were a few parents who were shocked but I think they got over it. One worried mother whispered in strongly accented English, “But she does not understand the Japanese!” Her daughter probably did fine — Aikido was the common language not Japanese.
My kids described the event completely differently. Kokoro focused on the pain of having to sit and wait her turn. She didn’t care much about the techniques she said she did whatever they asked (shomen uchi iriminage and “something else”). Ray went into wild detail. His test was thorough and included techniques from seiza and hanmihandachi as well standing. There was a katate-tori jiyuwaza (free techniqe from hand grab) portion about which he was very pleased. All in all, the kids reported that the test went well.
Several days later, one of the judges bumped into me in the hall and said that both of the kids “Ganbatta” (頑張った: did their best). I can’t ask for more and am very proud of them both.
My test for 3 dan was held Monday morning (2009/12/7). The judges were Seki Shihan, Kobayashi Shihan and Ito Shihan. This test was the culmination of several months of planning and additional training focusing on just plain passing. As I write this, I do not know if I have passed as results will not be posted until Wednesday. So, now that the sweat is dry and the adrenaline is gone from my system I wanted to chew on what little I remember before I lose it completely.
Upon discovering that Aikikai Honbu uses 3 dan as a wall of sorts, I realized that if I wanted to pass I would have to focus a lot more intently than I had been previously. So, I scouted tests watching who called what and what stickler details were most frequently pinpointed during the comments. I attended classes taught by one of the senior teachers, who most frequently was the head judge. This was in order to get a feel for what he felt was the “right way” to do Aikido — I even learned a couple variations that are almost unique to his way of demonstrating. In the end, none of the instructors who I was expecting showed up. Fair enough.
So, after several months of nokori geiko (残り稽古: staying after class to practice) the weekend of my test arrived. That Saturday, I attended Doshu’s morning class as usual. Apparently Doshu also had the tests in mind as he taught knife disarming. I had never seen him do that before — excellent! After that I ran to Cosmic Center to train some more. This time it was not for open-mat with the usual suspects but to attend a weapons disarming seminar taught by Inagaki Shihan of Iwama. His focus was sword and staff — again excellent! The training was awesome and I used his demonstration to plan what I would show during my test. The test requirements are actually pretty basic: 3 knife disarms, 3 staff and 3 sword.
Monday morning class lasted half an hour and then we lined up by seniority right to left (facing shomen) and with me on the far left. There was one other fellow testing for 3-dan, a wonderful Aikidoka from France whose attitude and energy I have always appreciated. I wish that I could have seen his test as I am sure it was quite excellent. In fact, the 2 dan test that came before us was wonderful as well and left me wondering if I could perform at that level — last minute jitters.
The following is my abused memory of what was called.
tachi (立ち:standing): Shomen uchi ikyo
tachi: Shomen uchi iriminage
hanmihandachi (半身半立ち: standing vs kneeling): Shomen uchi iriminage
hanmihandachi: katatetori shihonage
hanmihandachi: ryotetori shihonage
zagi (座技: kneeling): Shomen uchi nikyo
zagi: Shomen uchi nikyo
tachi: yokomen uchi jiyuwaza (自由技: free techniques)
Other? Really, I don’t remember for sure. Even the above was vague. The only thing I remember for certain is being cautioned during jiyuwaza to do only throws. I threw.
Weapons were brought out and all of my careful planning went up in smoke. From the first knife strike everything changed. I think the jo (staff) portion was similar to what I had planned but mostly it wasn’t what I had in mind at all. I disarmed the fellow but I did almost nothing that I had planned. Shit. What a waste of stress.
I had hoped to watch the taninzugake (多人数がけ: multiple attackers) portion of my friend’s randori test but I spent it doing deep-breathing exercises and really not being present at all. I don’t think anyone noticed my absence as I was sitting in front of them the whole time but I really have no clue if my buddy did well (I *assume* that he did). Then it was my turn.
During all of my multiple attacker training I have been constantly warned not to use much strength, to focus on moving and lowering my center. That was my mantra when I visualized how I wanted that part of the test to go. In the end, I felt as though I was ripping arms out of sockets rather than the smooth flow from one person to the next that I had aimed for. There was one moment of satisfaction that I remember well: I threw one of my uke straight at another and moved straight into the throat of the third. Other than that this is the fuzziest portion of all.
Afterward there were some very nice atta-boys but I’ll see on Wednesday.
I want to thank the following people for their help and patience:
Megumi
Ray
Kokoro
Jun-san
Antakly-san (Sorry about your wrist!)
Kitanaka-san
Murai-sensei
Inakoshi-sensei
Ninomiya-sensei
Hokura-san
Patrice
and pretty much everyone else in Hombu Dojo morning class.
Happy rolling!
e.
Test results were posted last night and, once again, there was not a single 参段（sandan）candidate who passed. More and more I have gotten the feeling that the 3 dan test is a barrier that Honbu has set very high. OK, maybe it should be obvious that the test would be tough but I had hoped that as it approached that my confidence might improve and it would seem less daunting. In fact, it seems that this path is leading to a rougher and rougher trail — a nasty traverse high above a scree slope…
Melodrama aside, the test results firmly pulled my head out of my latest spat of internal maundering. On the inside I have been maintaining the conceit that I am mostly ready for my 3 dan test and all that is left is the training time book-keeping. However, I have trained pretty hard with a couple of the 3 dan candidates and felt that we were pretty well matched in skills. So, if they didn’t pass that means that I probably would not have either…
Damn… reality checks can hurt. How is it that my ego grew so fast? Damn! Ten more months and they are NOT going to be book-keeping… I want to go train right NOW!
On Monday, the last of the summer rank tests were completed [ed: turns out they were not the last for the summer]. Doshu called an end to class at what would normally have been the halfway point. We bowed out and Doshu left. Seki, Kobayashi and Irie Shihan came in and the doors were closed. Irie Sensei called the names of those taking tests. They lined up on the mat from lowest rank on the far right to highest on the far left. The rest of us stayed off the mat.
Seki sensei, sat to the left of the Shomen and Kobayashi and Irie sensei sat to the right. When each group of students testing were called up, they sat to the right of and perpendicular to shomen, facing Seki sensei. Uke lined up on the left side of shomen. There were three people testing for 4th kyu, two testing for 2nd kyu, one testing for shodan (初段), two testing for nidan (弐段) and one testing for sandan (三段). One of the sensei to the right called, “Shomen rei” (正面礼 : bow to the front), “otagai rei” (お互い礼: bow to each other) and the tests began.
The shodan test was very basic. Standard techniques (ikyou to yonkyou, shihonage, kotegaeshi, kaetennage, tenchinage, etc) and attacks were called and most were standing variations with only a little hanmi handachi (半身半立ち) thrown in. Three tanto tori variations were requested and jiyuwaza was called for katate-tori and shomen uchi. There was no randori for the shodan and no koshinage required.
The student testing for shodan was the second foreigner that day and he seemed to understand the Japanese that was being spoken around him. For people who do not speak Japanese but are still interested in testing at Honbu, the sensei were calling techniques using terminology that is familiar to anyone who has been studying Aikido long enough to be interested in testing at Honbu. 😉
For the nidan tests, two uke were called (I volunteered). One uke ran through the same paces as the shodan student though with a lot more hanmi handachi and longer jiyu-waza sections. When the uke were breathing hard the seconds were called in and we attacked with knives. The tanto-tori portion was also pretty short with only three variations requested. At that point, we switched to two-person randori starting with the both uke holding the the nidan candidate’s arms in _firm_ morote tori. It was fun!
This was the sandan candidate’s second attempt at this test. For his test, three uke were called and the presiding teachers called every standard technique in the book — all from hanmi handachi. The guy looked as though he was about 40 and was quite stout as well. He was blowing hard by the time the first uke was discarded as being worn-out. The second was told to strike and whole lot of jiyu-waza followed. The third uke was finally called in for sword and staff take-away (standing). They then did randori starting with two uke holding his arms and the third in a light choke (collar grab really) from behind. The main comment that the teachers made was that breath is such an essential part of the martial arts that even when exhausted and blowing wind, the tester should try to hide it.
Tech Note:
This may be standard and I have just been missing it. Hanmi handachi katatetori shihonage (半身半立ち片手取り四方投げ) was performed on the knees at all times but hanmi handachi ryotetori shihonage (半身半立ち両手取り四方投げ) ended with nage in a standing position.
Filed under: Aikido, Expat, Japan | Tags: , Aikido, Black Belt, nidan, test, 合気道, 弐段
“Jiyuuwaza,” he said. Sensei called the attacks and wanted “five variations …” He didn’t call for a different attack after the first five so uke and I just kept going… and going, and going… Eventually, sensei moved us on to another attack and, again, said “five variations” but kept watching long after I had demonstrated five. He did that over and over until my uke was dragging. We ran through katatetori gyakuhanmi, katatetori aihanmi (“kosa tori” for some), morotetori, ryotetori, shomen uchi, yokomen uchi and tsuki. I was happy that zagi (suwari waza) wasn’t called but we did finish with kokyu dosa. I think I did well but I don’t remember details. I remember finding ikyo a lot but turing it into other things. I didn’t feel rushed and though I was breathing hard throughout I think that was due more to my chest cold than exhaustion. My poor uke however was shredded.
As feedback, sensei merely said that he’d file my papers in the morning. Not the most spiritual or uplifting announcement of results but it does mean that I passed my nidan shinsa. What that means is something I’ll have to work on. Come to think about it, that may be the point.
Filed under: Aikido, Expat | Tags: Aikido, nidan shinsa, PSA, Puget Sound Aikikai, rank, test, 合気道, 弐段審査
OK, I’ve known that this was coming for a while. I’ve known for a week that it would be tonight, so, it’s not really a “pop test” in the normal sense. Unlike the PSA in Seattle, I don’t have keys to the dojo here. I can’t go in and practice whenever I feel a need. I don’t have a list of buddies willing to drop what they are doing just for some extra training. What I have is a test, my nidan shinsa (弐段審査), tonight …
Sensei said the test would be twenty minutes of jiyuuwaza randori (自由技乱取り) — with me as uke. He has a wicked sense of humor but for the last year he has been insisting that skill at ukemi is the determining factor for progress up any of the stylistic ladders of Aikido. When visiting other dojo or attending seminars he has repeatedly told me to watch their ukemi. I can’t just laugh, my whole exam may really be taking ukemi for someone else! Brutal! On the other hand, 20 minutes of me performing jiyuuwaza is enough to give me butterflies as well.
If jiyuuwaza is called and I enter a mental coda in which, no matter what attack is thrown, I fall into the same technique over and over, I’ll go with it. I will vary the tempo to the extent that I can and occasionally pause where “normal” execution may call for continuity of motion. Such a pause doesn’t necessarily mean a break in the flow. Nage may pause as uke’s body catches up in the middle of some techniques or, during another techinique, uke may be allowed a moment to dream of regaining balance before their hopes are dashed. So, I hope to make these pauses my reprieve from mental congestion that causes codas … A few deep breaths ought to help too.
Jiyuuwaza… OK. I can do that.
Little House In Ise 
