Atomic Aikido

A tale of bad timing. I discover the idyllic looking farmers in Iwama are mostly working for TEPCO, the nuclear power plant providing much of Tokyo and Japan's electric power.

The fickle focus of the world's giant looming media's magnifying glass was firmly focused and burning it's own hot spot on TOKAIMURA, the local nuke plant a scant hour away on the coast from the aikido center of my universe.

After 9 months of Tokyo air/water/crowds I was ready as can be for a healthy weekend of aikido training in the countryside, visiting with friends, meeting new people and breathing again that clean air, drinking the well water, so pure, and seeing how the local rice fields were doing.

I never know what I'll encounter as I walk up that gravel path to into the dojo grounds. After a brief visit to the Aiki-jinja (shrine) across the road, I walked by the dojo. Late of course. A brief nod from Hitohiro-still sporting his dapper goatee and thin 'stash. The dojo was very full. Changed into gi/hakama and finally, at last, I am on the mat. Trained with a young Japanese man with a face remarkably like Jackie Chan, a face born for comedy, and an extremely well-defined musculature. Naturally, he dusted my clock and I felt like a klutz. Between trying to figure out what was going on, snatching glances to see what was the same (about everything) and see who was there, the hour flew by. Another 30 minutes after class of the suwari-waza (spinning around on the mat on one's knees) and I was soaked. Plus, I had accumulated my painfully scrapped knees and toe tops that required taping for 3 days. It was great to be back.

Dinner provided the company of three Japanese uchi-deshi (long-term students) and an assortment of long-term Iwama-area English teachers and others from London, Czech Republic, Germany, Aussies and the blonde Suisse Andrea.

Saturday 8 a.m. outdoors wooden stick swinging class (weapons class). Saito-sensei looks very well for a man in his '70s. He's lost some weight, but is moving well and taught an evening class and the morning outdoor weapons class (a review of 4 jo partner practices). I am sooo rusty). He cracked a big smile when he initially saw me and we continued our 20-year running joke about my last name. I'm designated "Yaro-chan" so that my name doesn't sound completely insulting. Plus, he asked me some other questions. Was great to reestablish connection.

Hitohiro (Saito sensei's son, for you all not in aikido) has developed into quite an impressive bullet, and just flies through many techniques in class. Yes, the original dojo is still standing and in use. Plaster is falling off the walls, but otherwise it looks the same. The kitchen is full of mosquitoes, which are all black belts at dashing away from a descending palm at the last second. Only the acrobatically nimble have survived to breed.

Saturday afternoon: A longer-than-planned-because-I-got lost- 20k run up the backside of the local mountain to the lovely shrine at the top, I encountered frogs, praying mantises (mantii?), the first turning of color of the leaves towards autumn, gardens ripe with eggplant, daikon, peppers, cosmos, and the last glorious morning glory vines, all in the final push from summer towards immortality through seeding. I collected a pocketful for my Tokyo veranda next Spring.

Aside from these pleasures, the weekend was shaken by the local nuclear accident. The plant is only an hour away, over the local hills towards the ocean. The night before, 3 women who had arrived from Sweden and Suisse left for Tokyo. The phones had been ringing all night as friends and relatives called. People had been watching the news and discussing this until they were just sick of it. Eventually the Suisse, Andrea came back, feeling rather foolish. There was a split between the foreigners at the dojo on the wisdom of leaving or staying. There wasn't enough information. The Japanese were not saying much. Some felt it best to leave if you're parents call from advising it, others felt it best to stay with the group. If Saito sensei said to leave, then go-- otherwise, stick it out together. People were pretty adamant about whichever way they felt, with not much sympathy for the other side's perspective.

As for me, I'd seen the headline in a paper, checked online with the Daily Yomiuri, then CNN and the San Jose Mercury News. Between some obvious backside covering and a dash of entertaining hysteria, the facts looked like it was quite contained. So, I went to Iwama anyway. I did have a vision of us all being wiped out in a nuclear death raincloud, though. However, I consoled everyone there with the thought that the prevailing wind would blow it over to California. They were not amused.

Each aikido class began with Saito sensei or Hitohiro sensei announcing the latest information, and the chilly thought that there was no reason to leave, yet.

Today, Monday morning, I again scan websites for news and phoned the dojo that there was nothing to worry about. The media wasn't blocking it out. However, I keep thinking about that scene I have only seen described in the Japanese paper, about how the workmen at the plant, when they realized they had a big, big problem with the containment room, tried to flood it with water by opening the valves. The valves were rusty! Braving more rads, they persuaded them by literally bashing with hammers and steel rods to force them open. Surely they will suffer and possibly die from this heroic act. More sacrifices for the bright lights of Ginza and Shibuya...

Well, that's the latest news from aikido wonderland. It's still the best place in the world. Even if it glows a bit in the dark late summer darkness.

It's News in Japan: Radiating Politeness

"We couldn't go out there to direct the citizens of our town wearing radiation suits when they didn't have any." (Daily Yomiuri)

  (Ibaragi police spokesman explaining why policemen did not use the 500 disposable radiation suits on hand at headquarters after the Tokaimura nuclear accident.

© 2008. Comments to Patricia Yarrow
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