Читать книгу Chojun - Goran Powell - Страница 16

The Cemetery At Tsujibara

It was the monsoon season and the water was running ankle-deep in the streets. Giant puddles had pooled in Miyagi’s yard and I brushed the excess water away and laid planks over the mud, so he and his family could come and go more easily. I’d just finished when Miyagi emerged from the house and asked if I would like to accompany him to the cemetery in Tsujibara. I agreed, happy for any chance to spend time with my sensei, and we set off down the hill together. Miyagi was carrying a bag on his shoulder that I offered to take for him, but he declined. I knew he was going to pay his respects to his former teacher, Kanryo Higaonna, who was buried in Tsujibara, and understood that he didn’t want to share that duty with another. I didn’t insist, despite feeling awkward walking beside my master empty-handed.

At the cemetery, Miyagi set about cleaning the gravestone methodically. I found a second brush in his bag and began to help. Miyagi didn’t object. We removed old offerings of fruit and rice from the grave and replaced them with new ones, and when it was immaculate once more, Miyagi lit incense and prayed while I stood silently by. He held his silent discourse with his former master and I sensed a heavy burden of grief in him.

By the time he’d finished, the rain had abated and the sun shone through the clouds, casting a patchwork of light and shade across the cemetery. Miyagi rose from his prayers and looked up at the sky to determine the time of day. It was still early, and he seemed in no hurry to leave. He sat on a low wall near the grave and I sat beside him.

“Master Higaonna was the type of martial artist who only comes along once every hundred years,” he whispered, his heart heavy with sadness. “He was Kumemura, like you, did you know?”

“I didn’t,” I said, filled with joy that Miyagi should mention me in the same sentence as his great master.

“His family was descended of the thirty-six families. As a young man he worked as a sailor. His father was killed in a fight when he was fourteen. Higaonna was consumed with grief and wanted revenge. He’d heard of the powerful martial arts of southern China and got himself a passage on a boat to Fuzhou. There was a large Okinawan community in the city and an Okinawan innkeeper helped him find his feet. He told the owner that he wanted to learn the martial arts, and the owner arranged an introduction to one of the foremost teachers of the day, Ryu Ryu Ko.

“Higaonna worked in Ryu Ryu Ko’s workshop by day and learned the martial arts by night. Once Ryu Ryu Ko saw his commitment, he allowed Higaonna to become a live-in student and trained him day and night. After nine years, Higaonna’s ability was extraordinary and his fame had spread throughout Fuzhou.

The entrance to the Manju Bridge over the Min River is guarded by two stone lions. To sit on the back of one of the lions was to say you were ready to accept challenges from other martial artists or fighters. Higaonna went there to test himself and sat on the lions of Manju Bridge for several days.

At this I could contain myself no longer, “What happened?” I demanded.

Miyagi smiled a knowing smile. “No challenger ever presented himself. I can imagine young fighters turning up and walking on by without a word after looking into his fierce eyes.” He chuckled to himself at the thought of this before continuing. “When Ryu Ryu Ko was old and could teach him no more, he told Higaonna to return to Okinawa. Reluctantly, Higaonna did as his master had ordered. When he set foot on Okinawa again, the angry young man had returned a master, and he found the desire for revenge had left him. He had found the true art. He had mastered his own spirit.

“Despite his ability, he was very humble and, at first, didn’t seek to promote his martial arts. Instead, he trained alone and returned to his work as a sailor on the yanbarusen. Nevertheless, his ability soon became known and his fame spread throughout Okinawa. The police would often ask him to help them apprehend dangerous criminals, which he usually did with a lightning-fast kick to stun them while the police moved in and made their arrest.

“Higaonna was an excellent sailor and navigator and had no trouble finding a crew for his boat. He borrowed money to buy a cargo of lacquerware to trade in the outlying islands, but lost his cargo not once, but twice, in two successive typhoons. The second time he was blown miles off course and drifted for a week before finding his way back to Okinawa. By the time they reached Naha, they were so hungry they had eaten the rope from the boat. It was a disaster in one sense, since he had no means of earning a living or repaying his loan, but in another it was a blessing. He was forced to fulfill his real destiny and become a karate teacher.

Miyagi sat silent for a minute, reliving his years of training with his master, then shook his head slowly. “I was twenty-seven when he died. Since then I have been without a sensei.”

It was incomprehensible to me that a master of Miyagi’s ability should still feel the need for a teacher. Miyagi must have sensed my confusion and put his hand on mine and squeezed it affectionately.

“A sensei is more than a teacher, Kenichi. He is someone who has trodden the same path that you now tread, someone to guide you on every stage of your journey. Karate isn’t a short thing. It isn’t something you can study for a time and then know completely. The true essence of karate is as deep as an abyss. It can take a lifetime to fully know all its secrets—perhaps even longer.”

“What kind of secrets?” I asked, unable to resist.

Miyagi shook his head. “So many questions, Kenichi! Always questions.’

I’d annoyed Miyagi and felt ashamed for my rudeness, but he sighed good-naturedly. “It isn’t something that is easy to put into words. It’s something that can only be drawn deeply into the center of your being through constant training.”

“I see,” I said, hoping to please him, but Miyagi continued without hearing me. “When Higaonna was alive, he taught me everything he knew. He filled me with knowledge until I could take no more. But now, after so many years, I have so many new questions for him.”

“What type of questions?” I asked.

He looked at my expectant face and smiled. “In recent years I have begun to discover connections that I missed earlier.”

“What type of connections?” I asked, hungry for insight into the higher levels of karate.

“What you might call the universal principles of karate,” he answered, searching for words to explain the unexplainable. “Ultimate truths that never change. Once a principle is grasped, countless things become clear.”

I begged Miyagi for an example. He picked up a rock and held it at arm’s length before him. “What happens if I let go?”

“It falls.”

“How do you know?”

“Gravity.”

“Gravity is a principle. Do you know who first put it into words?”

To my shame, I couldn’t remember.

“It was an Englishman named Isaac Newton. Newton summed up all the motions of heaven and earth into three simple laws. Can you believe that Kenichi. Three laws?”

I nodded, recalling dimly a lesson from long ago.

“Karate obeys the laws of the universe, Kenichi. For every thousand days I train, a new one reveals itself like a precious jewel hidden in the rock. A thousand days is a long time to wait before learning something new, don’t you think?”

I couldn’t imagine a thousand days of training. I hadn’t trained half that amount. Miyagi went on: “Several years after Higaonna’s death I visited a great master from Shuri called Itosu. He refused to teach me, saying that all I needed was contained in Higaonna’s kata. I was furious, until several years later when I began to discover certain connections running through all the kata. I returned to Itosu and he confirmed that my analysis was correct. It was a special moment for me, but Itosu died shortly afterward, and I haven’t been able to find another master of his standing to be my mentor.”

Miyagi rose with a sigh and we left the cemetery together, walking in silence. The monsoon clouds held back and the sun shone but I felt a somber mood descend on me. When Miyagi had begun to speak I’d felt happy at being taken into his confidence, but now, hearing of his lifelong struggle to grasp the ethereal nature of karate, I felt perplexed. If Miyagi couldn’t grasp the deeper meaning of karate, what hope was there for anyone? What hope was there for me?