Kombat Kulcha IV

Tonight was my third night at kickboxing, or rather perhaps I should say swimming, since at the end of the night I was so sweaty that I could squeeze water out of my shirt without wringing it, just like after you get out of the swimming pool (this is not an exaggeration). My first kickboxing session was at a town near Kurayoshi, but now I am training at their other school, which is at the Budoukan in Tottori. A Budoukan is a building devoted to martial arts, Budou meaning martial art and kan meaning big building. As can be seen from the picture, the building is, indeed, big. When I came to Japan I thought I would be training in pokey little rooms with no space to move, but here you can see that there is a lot more space than one would find in an Australian gym. it should be noted that this room is on the first (not the ground) floor of the Budoukan. There are more training rooms below. The windows on the far side of the photo look out upon another wing of the building, in which kendo was being conducted when this photo was taken. The other wing of the building is just the same size as this one.

As far as I can tell, this building is established and run by the prefectural or city government, and has a few staff members to keep it running. People who want to fight just kind of turn up and book a room. The building is probably the same size as the museum (which is very close by). Now that's what I call kulcha!!!! These buildings are scattered all over the cities of Japan - it is not sufficient to say the budoukan in a big city, but rather which budoukan. This is an example of a society in which kombat is given the respect it deserves, and treated properly as kulcha.

There are more examples than this, however, and I shall now present you with a tale of kombat kulcha in which the protagonist is so stunningly out of place, and her behaviour so normal in her own society, that I fear some of my dear readers will suffer apoplexies of brain fever when they realise how differently this one thing is viewed here. Two weeks ago one of my teachers changed. The change in teacher occurred because the previous teacher is going to give birth, so had to swap for a less gravid woman. The previous teacher was a 4th dan black belt in Kendo. The new teacher is probably not, though it's difficult to take anything for granted here. This new teacher, Ito Sensei, is a middle aged university teacher, and a woman. She somehow found out that I do kickboxing, and so launched into a discussion of K-1, the televised kickboxing which is hugely popular here. The discussion involved her asking me if I watched last weekends fight, and then proceeding to tell me that she and her husband watch all the fights because she loves K-1 and she particularly loves Masato, her current favourite fighter, because he is 'really dangerous and very handsome.' Now that's kombat kulcha!!

When was the last time in Australia that I had a discussion with a middle-aged university lecturer about how cool a kickboxing fighter is? That's right, never ... although I have had many discussions where such people have told me I am crazy and my sport is stupid. When I left class my mind was reeling at the enormity of the difference between these two societies - in the one society my hobby is honourable, exciting and important, so important that governments build big buildings expressly for us to use; in the other society it is is bad, dangerous and silly, so bad and silly that governments pass special laws to prevent women doing it ...

Now that's what I call a difference! Since I came here the response to my hobby has been universally one of approval, respect and appreciation. Many people say "I wish I could do something like that! I want to be disciplined like you!" Many people say "yes, I like fighting sports!" Many people say "That's excellent!" No-one says "You're crazy and will probably die." I must say that I am appreciating this particular difference rather a lot.