Japanese Culture

When I was six years old, my parents signed me up at a local karate class. I’m not sure why; perhaps because, as the smallest kid in my class, they thought I’d need to toughen up to survive primary school, or maybe they just wanted me out of their hair on a Saturday afternoon. But whatever the reason (definitely the latter) I took to it like a hyper-hydrophilic mallard to water. A combination of my slight stature and an uber-competitive streak made me the ideal karateka [practitioner of karate]. However, by the age of ten, due to my new obsessions with football and swimming, I ended up quitting the sport I had loved and to which I had dedicated half of my young life. But then, in 2019, after eight years living in Japan, I saw a poster for Shotokan karate at my local gym, and with no little trepidation, I contacted Ohnishi-sensei with a tentative email. “Hi, I saw your poster and was wondering if you could give me some information about your association,” I wrote in my poor Japanese. “No problem,” came the reply. “We train on Wednesday. See you then.” Bugger. No excuses now. I felt obliged…