Lost and found—a journey to China

I didn’t quite know what to expect from my first meeting with master Er Hu. The vision from Kill Bill was still strongly engraved in my mind as I waited by the gym’s entrance for him to arrive. Questions of anticipation kept emerging as I tried to imagine what our first encounter would be like. And then suddenly he appeared: a reserved man, without the long white hair or sharp beard, and certainly not dressed in long gray robes either. The man coming forward to greet me was overweight, dressed in American shorts and a torn T-shirt, with a crew cut and a cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth. He walked right up to me, looked me straight in the eye, gave me a slight nod, and that was that. I quickly replied with a short bow followed by a nervous smile, which I regretted as soon and as fast as it came.

And without further introduction, as if it was not necessary, he took me to the training area and began leading me in my first steps toward mastering the art of shadowboxing.

Ever since I was a little child, I have been fascinated by China. At the beginning, I only knew it through the lens of how we view it in the West.
Martial arts was the first part of China’s culture that I could not only study, but actually participate in. I remember my first step into the dojo and my fast adjustment to my new home. Something in the arts enchanted me. It wasn’t just any after-school activity or something my parents thoughtlessly threw me into that filled my time or calmed me down a bit. I chose to give it a leading role in my life.

Through martial arts, I became interested in other aspects of Chinese culture. I wanted to delve into its long history of art and philosophy. I knew that when it was right, I would go to China and explore this obsession.

After completing my army service, I decided that it was time. As with any lifelong dream, when I finally had the opportunity to pursue it, I was terrified. I had a very clear vision of what I thought China was supposed to look like.

When I finally got there, to the real China, I was stunned to say the least. Post-Cultural Revolution, the country was in a new phase of development and was marching forward without looking back at the China that I had always envisioned.

Maybe it was the countless movies I saw or the sterile paintings of the high mountains surrounded by endless green. China in my mind was a land of myth and mist, where flying monks swarmed the streets, women drank tea in long silk gowns, and fierce golden dragons controlled the sky. I had painted in my mind such a clear vision of the place, refusing to read the headlines in the news, headlines like: “China Overtakes U.S. as Supplier of Information Technology Goods.” Modern China was everywhere, but I refused to see it. Selfishly, I wanted to preserve the image of my dreams, which I had been longing for. I thought, “Let me see it for myself, and I will determine alone if it is really that different from what I had envisioned”.

When I began my training, the communication between Er Hu and me was sparse. We’d meet after a solid hour warm up with the rest of the students. The flying kicks, cartwheels, and flips were still disagreeing with my body, and it took time to settle in. After that, Er Hu would take me aside and, without saying a word, point to where he wanted me to stand. I would take my place behind him and start moving with him, while trying to grasp his body language and its unique pace.
Even though my master was by all means far removed from what I had expected, the experience of studying with him was more than I could have hoped. The Chinese cultural roots were embodied deeply into his life. So what if he was wearing Nike shorts, if his eyebrows were not white and did not connect to his beard? He was devoted to practicing this ancient Chinese art and dedicated to passing this tradition to the next generation. This is what is important and this is what truly counts.

It is clear to me now that China has changed rapidly in the past three decades and continues to move forward at a daunting pace. But the same ancient society with (pretty much) the same ancient way of thought is stealthily pulling the rein of China’s true cultural character. I traveled to the country to find it in its stone age, preserved and refined. This was my own prejudice. Instead, I found a new model, but with the same culture I was seeking—old soul, new body. My China that seemed lost at first was now found.

The author is a student in the School of General Studies majoring in East Asian Languages and Cultures. He is a teacher Chen Taiji and Krav Maga self defense at the Life in Motion Yoga Center.