I’ve been to kyudo club four or
five times now and I’m enjoying it very much.
On my third visit a student (Daiki) asked if I belonged to kyudo club,
and I didn’t know how to answer. Can
I? What do I have to do? I think we determined that I have to go every
so often and then I can say I’m in kyudo club, so I guess, I’m in kyudo! I went yesterday and there was a
guest teacher helping the students. He
was naturally curious about the foreigner and to my delight and embarrassment he
spent a lot of time helping me. They
help was great, but I felt badly that I was taking away from the time he could
spend with the students. They didn’t
seem to mind, though. In fact, they were
amused by watching me try to understand the outpouring of Japanese he sent my
way. I actually prefer if people speak a
lot to me. I can catch a few things if
people say enough. He was also great
about showing me what he wanted. I
didn’t understand too much of his vocal instruction, but it was accompanied by clear
gestures and demonstrations of right and wrong.
I learned a lot and for the first time I managed to do it once when it
just felt right. I couldn’t reproduce
it, but at least I’ve done it once! The
sensei was very complimentary but wasn’t shy about fixing things. That’s the way it should be! Unfortunately, I am still only practicing
with the gomukyu (I bought one for myself!) and the bow with no arrow. The coach said I would have to do that for
three months before shooting, but I didn’t believe him – or didn’t want to
believe him. My patience is running out,
not in a bad way but in an eager, childish way.
Shoot! I want to shoot! That’s okay.
I can wait . . .
Oh, and I was uncomfortable bowing
and ‘praying’ to the little god shrine thing in the 弓道所kyudojo (kyudo building) and
managed to get permission to sit respectfully while everyone bowed, etc. Most Japanese don’t really have a religion,
so bowing and clapping hands in prayer doesn’t really mean anything so it’s
strange to them that some people have objections, but at least they aren’t
offended by my lack of participation.
Yes, it’s times like this that I realize I’m in a foreign country! I often forget otherwise.
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