Skander-san's Adventures Beyond the Ultraworld 2or Episode Two: The Phantom Sensei

Sunday morning 9am. Back into the nasty nylon fisherman's pants I picked up in Cambodia under threat of interminable wailing, pleading, and desperate competition among the touts outside Banteay Samre. "You buy from me, mistaaaaah".

And off to the dojo. It's lucky it's local is all I can say.

The motley group of greenhorns dressed in everything from lairy boardies to dirty trackies was this time matched by an equal-sized group of fully-fledged club members, all helmetted and clad in their blue keikogi and hakama. Laps around the dojo first, then star jumps and calf-rises. And on to the quite elaborate stetching routine. First the left hand side of the body: top of the left foot and wrist; then the left achilles and bottom of the left wrist; left calf and a lateral stretch to the left wrist; left quad, and finally left hamstring. All the while shouting the count to eight in Japanese. Twice. And then on to the right-hand side of the body. And finally the groin and the neck.

"Ichi... Ni... San... Shi... Go... Roku... Shichi... Hachi..."

Now we go through a whole series of stroke-practice-cum-warm-up exercises. 30 jogeburi—large swing cuts ending at knee height, 30 nanameburi—large swing diagonal cuts to knee height, 30 single men—short swing cuts to the head, 30 single diagonal men—aimed at hitting the skull on a 45° angle, 30 double men, 30 single diagonal men and finally, "not for you beginners", 30 double-time double men cuts. Phheww. And we don't even get taugh men until the last 20 minutes of today's session, so you can image what we all looked like.

Now we separate into the newbies and the old-hands. You mean even when we complete this introductory course, we'll still have to sacrifice our Saturday nights for our Sunday mornings? Okay, so it might be be a boon for my liver but it's going to murder my social life. I'd hoped they were all here to aid and encourage us neophytes with our awkward footwork and over-zealous swings, but no. They head off to their side of the dojo, turn their backs to us as through we are the hideous mangled result of an ice-cream-van/motorcycle accident to be patently ignored, and begin charging each other with kiais reminiscent of Brain Damage. While we return to footwork practice, sneaking envious glances at the experienced practitioners.

And I tell you, this footwork practice is not easy. Bare feet, gym floor, the aim is to use sliding steps on the balls of your feet. So it's okuri-ashi, the small steps leading with the right foot, where the feet return to the same position after each pair of steps, right foot slightly in front of and parallel to the left, and ayumi-ashi, where the same sliding technique is applied to normal walking strides. Now try telling those two commands apart at 30 paces. And so we move up and back, up and back, across the dojo, over and over again, always beginning with and returning to the kamae.

The kamae stance—back straight, knees slightly bent, feet in the usual position, shinai pointed at your opponent's throat, a fist's length out from your abdomen—is considered the most stable, and therefore the best position to attack or defend from. So, all movements, cuts, slices and steps, all return to this position. What we're all aiming for here is muscle memory, so these movements become second nature.

And I think we're getting there. While the boys (and girls) in blue continue to charge each other, we continue practicing our footwork and our cuts. What more did I expect in my second class? It's certainly different from the few sessions I went to at the Melbourne Uni Kendo Club all those years ago, where it was all grab a shinai and off we go.

Today we have the senior sensei supervising our session, a little old Japanese man who I'm sure has a viscious temper and a stern, economical way with his words. He watches the contenders, but every now and then turns his attention to us as up and back, up and back we go. Is that a faint self-contented, almost Howardian smile I see? Yet not a word do we hear from him throughout our 2½ hours in the dojo. Not a peep.

Finally we learn the men cut. It is intended to hit the forehead and slice it open. On the first step (always the right foot) the shinai is raised to 45° behind the head; on the second step, when the left foot joins the right, parallel with its toes still aligned to the right heel, the cut is made, stopping abruptly where the forehead would be, so basically your sword is embedded just an inch or so into your opponent's skull. And then—this is the bit I like—as we return to kamae slowly dragging the sword back to its restive position pointed at the throat, the blade would slice deeper into the brain and then down the face. You know, just to make sure.

See, it does sound fun after all.