The Tea Merchant

The fall had been mild with many warm, clear days, but winter had come hard to the Japan Sea. Frigid Siberian winds pushed down on humid ocean air dumping deep, heavy snow on the coastal plains. Yet by early spring the melt had begun in the low-lying areas. A short month of sun followed; then the rains began.
For many weeks the sky was dark and the rain drove down. Tourists never came to Nihonkai for the dry climate. Now and then the rain relented and a low fog would descend on upon the mountain ridges silhouetting solitary black pines in a sea of mist.

On the eighth day of continuous rain, I decided to get away from the confines of the temple and go into the city. I caught a local train for the ten minute ride to the Central Station. It was unseasonably cold and windy as I headed towards the old mercantile section of town on narrow, wind-swept roads. Two-storied wooden shops and draining rice fields lined the way. A cold rain stung my hands and face as I clutched a bamboo and oil-skin umbrella. The few people on the streets hurried forward, their bodies braced against the weather.
I stepped from the street into a tea merchants shop and banged shut the sliding glass door behind me. In the dimly lit and age-worn shop, I could see large aluminum boxes of tea stacked against the walls. The shop smelled of smoldering autumn leaves.
After a moment a muffled hai came drifting out from behind several layers of sliding doors. An old shopkeeper brushed through a curtain in the back of the store. When he looked up his eyes brightened and he said,
"Please sit down, please sit down." He pointed to a space around a large hibachi where an iron kettle slowly steamed over hot coals.
I told him that I wanted to buy a gift of Japanese tea to send overseas. He nodded and handed me a steaming cup of bitter green tea that spread warmth with every sip. As I drank the shopkeeper suggested that a lighter, less bitter tea might be a suitable gift for someone not accustomed to Japanese tea. The tea we were drinking, he explained, was made from only the young, tender leaves of the best plants. The milder, less expensive, teas were made of more mature leaves and stems.
"I would like a mild tea of good quality," I said.
"If you'll wait a moment, I'm certain I have what you want in back." Then the old shopkeeper stood up and hurried back through the curtain.
As I waited and drank the hot tea, I stared at the glowing coals. A piece of charcoal popped and blew sparks into the dry ash bed. I was grateful to have found a haven of warmth and dryness in a wet land.
The shopkeeper returned with a deep-colored green tea in a round metal container. I paid for the tea, tucked it under my arm, and headed up the wet street.

© copyright 2008 James Noah
As previously published in Hidamari, March 1994

Autumn in Akita

秋田
Chinese Maples in brilliant crimson
frame the worn, ship-like timbers
of a temple gate.
The air swirls with the aroma
of burning leaves and sandalwood.
Cirrus clouds at the edge of space
draw my imagination out to
ancient mariners beyond the horizon.

Heavy Industry Ships South

A huge factory in Northern Japan stands barren in the snow. Snow that drives through cracked window panes and gaping holes in concrete and brick. A severed and frayed high-voltage cable swings in the wind. The empty hulk of a foundry that no longer pours molten steel. No longer makes locomotive wheels or bulldozer buckets. No longer feels steel-toes boots walking down long corridors to load flatbed trucks with carbon alloy motor cases. Now the loadings docks sit empty, boarded shut. Shipping skids lay strewn around the yard. I step through a door-less entry. I feel as though I must walk slowly, reverently, as if in a church, so as not to disturb sleeping workers. Shafts of snow speckled sunlight column down from above. Cracked and stiffened boots lie next to an overturned helmet. Someone must have decided that these weren't worth hauling away. The lunch menu still hanging on an oil-stained wall. The work has moved south and is not coming back, at least not for the ghosts who roam these lonely halls. Now someone else will make gears with grease and iron, and wash off the grime of a full day's work with pumice and cold water. Now someone else will drink coffee at break time from a worn and dented thermos.

Karate vs Terrorism

Over the years students have often asked me why I teach an art-based skill rather than only self-defense. I usually reply that barring an unexpected incident; the focus of your training in martial arts should be on fitness, self-development, camaraderie, and the joy of developing your skill. Nevertheless, should a situation arise in which you would need to defend yourself, the effectiveness of your training will be the deciding factor. Given the recent terrorist attacks however, I have reflected of my own abilities and how I would act if confronted by a terrorist. On September 11th, it appears that some were forced to put their training to the ultimate test.
There is strong evidence to suggest that passengers on United flight # 93 put up strong resistance foiling the ultimate goals of the highjackers. One passenger (Glick) known to have resisted was an NCCA judo champion. Another passenger was an officer in the Israeli Army. Whatever transpired on that flight my never be known, but all were tested in a way I pray none of us ever have to face.
Another incident that has made me reevaluate my training happened a few years ago to a good friend of mine, Dave Leventhal, a long time judoka and owner of Cecil’s Deli in St. Paul. After withdrawing money from an ATM one night, he was approached by a man who demanded the cash at gunpoint. Dave, in an amazing moment of calm, said that he thought the gun was a fake. As the crook began to fire, Dave sidestepped and brought him down with a forearm strike to the neck. Unfortunately, Dave’s wife, who was standing behind him, was struck in the hand by a ricocheting chip of concrete. She was injured, but not severely. Dave held the man down until police arrived. At first chastised by police for his actions, he ultimately received a commendation for bravery from the St. Paul Police.
In the final analysis, martial arts should prepare you to protect, disarm, or kill if needed. I will continue to center my own training on the art of karate, but I will also be putting more emphasis on strike force and real-world applications as well. If our style is determined to eliminate all sparring or hard-contact training, then we will have to work that much harder to include drills and methods that will keep us effective and lethal when necessary. I do not say that combat-style training is superior to kata-based training; it is just that when the unthinkable becomes a reality, you may need it to survive.

These are my thoughts in the aftermath of the great tragedy to our nation. I hope this has been of some help to you in your training.

James Noah
October 2001