Visiting my Tai Chi Master

I am leaving for the US on Friday, I intend to be gone for 3 weeks. Enroute I will be transit one night in Shenzhen at my parents place. I've never visited their home in Shenzhen, I'm curious to see this rapidly growing city that was just a fishing village a mere 40 years ago but now the fourth largest in China . But I am most looking forward to seeing my old dear friends again and then spending some time in Dallas visiting my younger brother whose wedding I missed in Fiji last year. I promised him I would make a trip to see him to make up for it. I'm also hoping to get some camping and mountaineering in around California or Utah with my good friend T whom I shall stay with in LA.

I asked my Tai Chi master, Master Lim, to allow me a private session to offset me falling behind in class for the 3 weeks that I'll be gone. His response was to visit each other's home first before he would decide.

Last night, he arrived at my apartment with 5 students/friends of mine from class and puttered about briefly. I showed him my collection of books and music . He gave a cursory perusal since he didn't understand the texts. Then I offered him some Oolong tea and he elected to make it himself with his usual elaborate ritual improvised with bowls and cups. After he finished his tea we all adjourned for dinner at a restaurant in his neighborhood and then we adjourned yet again to his flat.

When I walked through the door I was struck by how spartan his small humble abode was. The odor of old paper and a hint of incense hung in the air, instead of living room furniture his apartment contained shelves of books all in Chinese. In one section there were crates and display cases packed with clay teapots and tea cups. The walls were adorned with swords and photo portraits of 3 generations of masters. And by the window was an old wooden table with 4 stools for serving tea.

He gave me a tour of the place. In the kitchen there were no appliances, just more books. In the bed room, more books and a desk. In the back room... more books and another desk but this one was meant for his Chinese medical consultation practice. The man was also a certified Sifu i.e. traditional Chinese healer. He explained that his books were all related to Chinese history, philosophical, martial arts, medicinal or tea. I peered at one of the bindings since there were some English words on it, it said "24 leg attack styles of the Shao Lin". Impressive... His martial arts books were mainly sectioned according to Aikido, Tae Kwon Do, Tai Chi, Wu Shu or Shaolin fighting styles. I was told that Master Lim reads until 3 am on most nights, it was obvious that he had started from a young age. Despite not completing elementary school this man was extremely well informed and an expert on various Chinese subjects.

He invited the 5 of us to sit around his tea table and for the next hour and a half we chatted while he served 3 types of premium tea, some decades old. He was meticulous in his technique and criticized me for my boorish mannerisms- the way I held the cup, the speed that I drank the tea, for leaning toward the pot to smell the tea instead of bringing the pot to my nose. I was appreciative of the criticisims for I knew there were subtle lessons to be gained here. The grip of my hand on the tea cup was wasteful of energy and I could relate to how a tense grip impaired the quality of my shot in tennis.

Then he invited us to sit on the floor around a small TV and the slipped a DVD into the player. It was a martial arts exhibition that about 20 of his students performed at 'The Confucius School' in the city. As they stood in a semi-circular composition each man would step forth with a sort of bow and perform an dazzling display of a martial art routine with a particular sharp/blunt weapon for a few minutes and then retreat back to his place. One guy actually walked forward with a full-sized trident and another guy with a hand fan. Yes,... you can defeat a man with a paper hand-fan. But the guy that stole the show was the one that walked forward and placed a wooden bench on the stage. Was he going to break the bench? Sit on it? No, he picked it up and wielded it as a weapon for a few minutes doing his own routine of attacks and parries. Apparently in one of the thousand of books around me contained a martial art routine for defeating your opponent with a bench. It must come in handy when some jerk tries to steal your table in a noodle shop.

I left full of admiration for this small, composed unassuming man, not so much for his ability to sneak up on me and kill me with my own slipper before I knew it but more for the relentless passion which he pursued his interests and hobbies; and how in turn they had shaped him into a Master in so many areas of his life.