ASP EDITIONS

(in portuguese language)

(excerpts translated in English)

Imagine a perfect man, with a perfect memory, came from nowhere. Let's call him (why not) Bodhidarma. No, we are not in India. We are here and today, in a small dojo of a little village club. The man, they say, is a martial artist, a Karate expert. Is he ?...

One day, his only pupil, decides to ask him to describe the all path of what is called Karate-Do. He accepts but with one condition: the disciple must train, for a whole year, from January to December, everyday, without any failure or interruption. Doing so, by the end of each class they will both seat at the center of the dojo and each day the master will tell him a small piece of the history. The follower accepts the challenge with enthusiasm.

The first of January arises and the master begins by alerting that he is not going to tell him the history of all Martial Arts - a never ending task, of course - only the history of one of them which is related to Do... The pupil cannot understand what he really wants to mean, but decided not to interrupt him right in the first description that, as it seems, refers to some kind of indigenous form of struggle of a certain area of India, more than fifteen centuries ago.

In the first day of the following week the description begins with a fantastic voyage throughout the Himalaias till the court of Wu the emperor of Liang, in Canton, China. Next the action transfers to a monastery a little more to North, in Honan's province, from Hsiao Ming emperor. The name of that monastery seems to sound as Shaolin. As much as the pupil can understand, after a correct practice, both physic and mental, the peaceful budist monks that leave this monastery in pilgrimage, became known by the efficacy of their fists.

Days pass, weeks go and months eventually come. Methodically the master goes on illustrating the transmutation of technique with narratives about the peculiar characteristics of each struggle models develloped in different parts of China and then Korea. There is a name that he repeats a few times which sounds as Shang Wu, and that, according to his sayings should be in the origin of some other arts with funny names like T'ai Ch'i e Pa-kua.

When Spring comes, friendship and respect have grown between teacher and pupil, and the latter asks if, instead of Bodhidarma, a name rather difficult to pronounce, teacher wouldn't mind if he uses a shorter name... "Well, you may call me Daruma, is much simpler", and with a roguish smile the master continues "After all, it was that way that Ryukyu's used to called me...", antecipating the question from the pupil he explains: "Ryukyu was a small independent archipelago located to the South of Japan, a place known today as Okinawa. The region was separated into three kingdoms - Chuzan, Nanzan e Hokuzan - involved, since long, in a civil war".

Daruma goes on describing the conturbate life of the Ryukyu's, in those distant times, pierced by combats of extreme violence and cruelty. For a number of days the disciple leaves the dojo with his legs trembling, such his the realism of the portrayal. A day comes, however, in which Daruma refers the appearing of a certain Sho-Hashi, king of Chuzan, who actually dominates the other two kingdoms, imposing in all Ryukyu territory a feudal regime where the use of weapons comes to be restricted to the superior classes.

Summer comes. The warm noons after training are purple and serene. During the months of July, August and also along September, the master devotes his chronicles to the depiction of the calm life of the Ryukyu's countrymen. The references to martial arts are rare and subtle. Up there, a humble peasant, provoked by two strongly armed samurai's, uses a small flail used for rice shelling - he kills one of them while the other survives to tell the happening but severely wounded. All trials to find the peasant failed. In another place, an aged man interferes in a riot to aid a friend menaced by a sabre and he manages to defend himself from the dreadful blade using the wooden handle of a stone mill. Taken to the presence of authorities weapon use could not be proved...

In his way home from the habitual class, the pupil deviates from the familiar path seeking the freshness of a small lake. Wandering his sight by the little whirls of water he wonders: "Is there a life below the mirror ?"

Then, unexpectedly, by the end of September, Daruma lets his young friend with the paleness of death with the most intense and vivid battle description he ever heard. It's about the invasion of Ryukyu by the Shimazu, the terrible war force of the Satsuma fief that already dominates a vast territory in Kyushu, decided to conquer now the Southern islands. A date rebounds - 1609 - the year of the assault to the door of Naha. The fierce resistence of the locals surprises the powerfully force that, not long ago, had shaken the imperial authority itself. The front assault to the door of Naha is promptly repelled. But the unbalance of forces is tremendous. Not all the entrances can be defended, Unten is the week point from where the Shimazu penetrates and soon the Ryukyu's are at the mercy of the Satsuma. The weaponry use interdiction is reinforced and applied now to all local population.

Autumn falls. On his way to dojo the pupil feels attracted again by the greyish surface of the lake, rippled by a fresh wind. Within the melancholy of the master's words describing the deep sadness of the Ryukyu's, a growing agitation permeates. In reaction to the opression of the Satsuma sovereigns traditional links to the continent are reinforced and, covered by apparent cultural interchange missions, hides the learning of secret weaponless forms of defense, developed by the Shaolin monks and successively transformed and improved by generations and generations of chinese masters. At Okinawa these forms are then transmitted in the most rigorous secrecy to a confined circle of apprentices. These, by their own, like diligent craftsmen refine and lapidate the forms. To the rumors of existence of a so called "hand of Shuri" and "hand of Naha", which may constitute the Okinawa-te, or "Okinawa's hand", a misterious To-de adjoined, related to the ancient chinese forms. But, no matter which stratagem they create the spies of the Satsuma fief are not able to penetrate the hermetism of such practices.

A certain day, at the end of a training session apparently equal to any other, the master informs: "Today there will be no lecture !". The disciple can't understand and protests:"But, Daruma...". This one firmly interrupts him saying: "My name, from now on, is Shoto", if you will call me any other name I shall give no answer". Following he assures that the dojo's door is well closed, and asks him to pay good atention to the names he is going to listen, and specially to not get them mixed. That day they don't sit as usuall, they sit at each top of the room. During large minutes they stay like this, face to face, in a silent contemplation. Then the master stands up and says: "Tekki-Shodan". He performs an impressive series of small but strong, energic movements, moving from one side to the other, without advancing. Just after that the master sits and the class ends. They bow in silence and leave.

The pupil wonders about the meaning of such a brusque change of attitude and also about the function of all those strange movements... In some of them he seems to find remote similitudes with the four or five basic movements he had been taught along the year and it is not without eagerness that he moves to the dojo. In the next two days the name and scheme of the movements present clear resemblance with those executed in the former day: "Tekki-Niddan, Tekki-Sandan". In the fourth day the master performs all the three, one following the other, informing at the end that these forms, or kata, belong to a school named Shorei-ryu.

Next day the presentation continues with a kata named "Taikyoku Shodan". The pupil is happy because he recognizes almost immediately all the movements. The following days' kata's "Taikyoku Nidan", "Taikyoku Sandan" show little variation towards the former one, incorporating techniques that he knows quite well by now. In essence they don't differ much from the first Taikyoku.

Again in his way back home he pays few attention to the rain and cold which announce the coming Winter. What intrigates him are the deep differences between these two groups of kata. And he murmurs and gesticulates while he walks throughout the street: "The movements of the taikyoku are light, fast and long; the others, by contrast, quite alike his own name, tekki, are stronger, shorter and heavier. The displacements of the taikyoku's fill all the dojo like the free fly of a bird, boundless; in the tekki's, however, the displacements are limited, as if the movements are confined to one direction. Could it be that the taikyoku's were born from another school, another ryu ?".

Confirming his suspicions the three Taikyoku are presented, at the end of the following session, as an emergence of the Shorin-ryu school. At this moment the master perceives by the look in his pupil's eyes that he get the message. They embrace with friendship, and the master says that now on, should any other kata be presented to him, he doesn't have to worry about memorizing its name: "Just try to feel the timbre of the movement and identify the underlying style."

Next day is first of December. At the end of the class master and disciple sit again near the dojo's center. Shoto explains that spreading time has come, the time of openness to public: "The world thinks that everything must have a name, so let's call it Karate-do." He opens the dojo's doors wide apart and a band of kids that were noisily waiting by the entrance for a while, spying by the window, fall in. At first, children invaded the room chaotically, scenting around for every detail like small puppies, touching the belts and laughing about the men funny clothes. A big mess arises and the pupil looks at children with a scowl. Shoto, by contrast seems extremely happy, letting himsel surround by the children. Smoothly and gently, step by step, he conduces the swarm to one side of the room and then, suddenly, with a strong and determined voice he ordered the group to align with his pupil at the right of the row. The kids, taken by surprise, immediately obey, and showed a relative silence.

The master begins demonstrating a series of kata's, - Bassai, Kwanku, Empi, Gankaku. And then after a short pause, Jutte, Hangetsu, Jion. The disciple identified easily the first group as Shorin-ryu, and the second as Shorei-ryu. Though, the avid eyes of the children are attracted only by the show, they laugh and aplause every kick and leap and, when the movements are slow and concentrated, they get suspended by the deep breath of the master. By the end of the lesson everyone asks Shoto to teach "Karate" (children, as they are, tend to forget details like do) and, to the despair of the follower, the master accepts. Since then classes are full of restless children always interrupting: "Shoto, do that leap ! Shoto, teach us one of your tricks ! Shoto, can we organize a contest to see who's the winner ?". At the end of each class, when everybody leaves, both men keep seeting at the center of the dojo, but now is the disciple who takes the initiative, protesting loudly: - I cannot understand ! You promised me that you will give me classes for one year... "And I'm keeping my promess." - But you said that you'll tell the all history of Karate-do... "Well, that's precisely what I am doing." - But, can't you see, children disturb our work ! " My dear friend, should I send them away, and then, yes, I shall be deceiving everything." - How's that ?... "It's just like I said, they are part of the way, part of the history."

It's the last day of December. It's very cold. In each of the last few days the way to the dojo seems longer and longer. He fills sick, his legs hurt, he is aching all over. While he walks painfully he meets again the old lake: "Below the ice there's nothing , it's all dead", he thinks, and a tear rolls over his face.

However, when he gets to the dojo's door he notices something unusual. There is neither shouting nor rushing... Where are the children ? He peeps through the door and he can only see a group of people dressing like karate-ka's. All looks come direct to him and their faces look strangely familiar. He doesn't know what to say: "Hum... Good afternoon, my name is... " - Hello, master. You got late today. We are waiting for long.

Like an automaton he enters the cloakroom and holds his kimono. Again he puts his right hand in the bag to catch his white belt but what comes out is a black coloured belt. He drops it brusquely and rubs his hand has if it has been burned. He notices then that his own hands look different, rougher... older. He falls prostrated upon the seat, puts his elbows on his lap, and covers his face with his bare hands, but... but he feels wrinkles on his face. He tries to control himself. He remembers the teachings of the Master and he straights his back. His Master, where is he now ? "Daruma", "Shoto", names sounding so far-away now, distant names from his youth.

Abruptly he stands up, as if a slap striked his face. He dresses his kimono, he puts the black belt. He walks to the dojo's room. Behind him is the photo of a man sitting quietly upon the sand of a shore. He sits. The pupils imitate him. Everybody turns to the photo. Far away the waters not from the lake, no more, but from the sea itself, wave alive. When he bows to salute one only name invades his memory: Murakami.

It's mainly during the stages, which were directed by the Master, that is absence lies heavier in our spirit. And, perhaps by that reason, everything is done as if he was still with us. When a technical detail is corrected to a student, there is a natural tendency to refer to his teachings: "It was this way that he told us to do ..." or "Master always insisted in this point...".

Indeed, is strong personality marked us all very deeply and his teachings carved in traditional Karate, but also a fruit of his personal researches, are not susceptible, at their core, to diversions.

His "testament", for those who should follow his way, can be summarized in his words so simple and yet of such a deep meaning:"Work as I always taught you!". Thus, the key for technical and spiritual progress is rather simple: don't forget his method, don't forget his way!.

Almost for 18 years, period during which I was his pupil, my only contacts with him were during the stages in Lisbon or France. For that reason my character somewhat reserved only permitted me to know him better, as a human person, several years after his first stage in Lisbon. At first, in 1969, I only saw in him the excelent technician, almost an aesthete of the movement, whose performance seduced me right from the first classes. He was japanese, he was technically perfect, that was enough. That was pratically the main reason why I insisted so much with Dr. Pires Martins, manager of Academia de Budo (Budo Academy), where I was teaching, in order to have his commitment to bring back the Master next year.

The existence of certain subjective circunstances, by which personality shocks and personal ambitions made the core of his older students not much than a "bag full of cats", made me hinder a long time before I correspond to Master's will that I should take a more active part, at the administrative level, within our group.

Not long ago, considering (at distance now) the past facts and persons involved, justice was made to my relutance at the time.

Nevertheless I realize today that without his tenacity, team spirit, and love for Karate-Do and portuguese Murakami-Kai, from which he was one of the main constructors and that he himself saved several times from extinction as a group, we would not be what we are in the National Karate panorama: one of the more ancient and perhaps the most prestigious association of our country.

Beyond the Master-student relationship we made friendship ties and, as friends, we discussed about many questions (I remember how he liked to tease me about political matters, field in what we had, almost always, opposed opinions), but we aggreed in things like sincerity, truth, solidarity, in summary, reason and humanism as ways to act in society.

His last days put in evidence other two of his main qualities: courage and stoicism. It is true that his method, our method, may contribute by itself to develop these qualities, mas it is also correct that only by the example can the teacher give authenticity to his teachings.

His assistants and other leaders, as any other student in whom his example fruited, are capable of continuing his Idea. They should do it for, only that way, will they merit to have been disciples of such a great Master.