In a small room behind the Hilton’s gym, nine men (and one Time Out journalist) are preparing. As soon as we’re done with this series of gentle stretches, we’ll unleash a ball of warlike whup-ass onto this padded dance studio, and few of us will ever walk or think right again. At least, that’s what the Time Out journalist thinks. Like most people, however, he’s not really sure what aikido is.
Martial arts are often misunderstood. Time Out thinks Bruce Lee is to blame. Rewind to the early ’70s as Enter the Dragon takes US cinemas by storm, and a generation of young geeks realise that they no longer need to suffer at the hands of brawnier men. They take up karate – just like the little Chinese man on the big screen – and begin kicking some behinds. Obviously, culture confusion is at play, and identities begin to get blurred. Bruce Lee is not a Chinese man; he was born in San Francisco. He is a master of jeet kune do – a discipline he developed himself – rather than karate (which is Japanese anyway). Perhaps the biggest confusion has to do with the inspiration. Studying martial arts, as any experienced practitioner will tell you, is not about learning how to brutalise somebody. Far more than combat, it is to do with focusing on the relationship between the mind and the body. Essentially, it is about self control.
Aikido is a unique distillation of this philosophy (the Japanese can be translated as ‘the way of the harmonious spirit’). Back in the Hilton training room, a talented student called Martin explains that he began studying the discipline seven years ago. ‘It does wonders for the body,’ he enthuses. ‘I’m talking skeletally, muscularly, mentally… I was always amazed at the elderly of Japan, China, Korea, and their quality of life into old age. They’re far suppler than we are.’ Not that Martin believes that a generation of Japanese octogenarians get frantic in rice fields from sun up to sundown; more that there is a stronger respect for the relationship between mind and body in that part of the world. Either way, he’s a good example of how aikido can keep the body youthful. No spring chicken, he somersaults and dives across the room with the grace of a star ballerina. ‘It’s wonderful,’ he grins. ‘I can’t recommend it enough.’
As a martial art, aikido is very young. Developed in Japan through the ’20s and ’30s, the discipline refined the lifelong physical studies of its creator, Morihei Ueshiba, incorporating his own philosophies concerning universal harmony and energy. Much of its lead came from kenjutsu, or the art of swordsmanship. Accordingly, many of the movements involved in aikido are dictated by the energy lines your body might follow in a swordfight. It’s a very fluid series of movements, working almost entirely on the control and displacement of your opponent’s weight and energy; barely thinking; everything in the moment. Performed at high speed, it looks like it would take a lifetime to learn, but one man tells us he’s been studying for a matter of months (before deflecting Martin in full flight, flipping him, and holding him against the mat until he pounds his fist in submission).
We watch the group’s smallest member take on five opponents, each launching a full body attack that ends miserably. Even to the casual observer, it’s obvious that this isn’t merely a brawl. The defendant’s movements are minimal, simple hand deflections that redirect the energy being hurled at him – it’s fascinating to watch. Han Solo may have believed that, ‘Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side,’ but it’s obvious from an evening with these guys that George Lucas knew a thing or two about the origins of the force.
At the hub of the activity is the sensei, or teacher. Freddie Alfaro has been involved with aikido for 28 years. A quietly spoken man, he moves among his students, making little corrections here, offering smiles of encouragement there, and radiating the kind of calm that all here hope to emulate. Early on in the evening, he encourages Time Out to come at him, quickly disabling our attack and leaving us cripple-wristed and writhing on the floor. We spend the remainder of the evening maintaining a reverential distance.
From time to time, Freddie clears the floor and summons a volunteer, who is quickly sent through the wall with what appears to be little more than the flick of an eyebrow. Sure, aikido may be about the peaceful displacement of energy, but few would rile the energies of an aikido master and live to reminisce without full medical assistance.
Adults aikido, Abu Dhabi Hilton (second floor), Corniche. One session costs Dhs35, 10 sessions Dhs295; Sunday and Tuesday 8pm, Monday and Wednesday 7pm. Call the Hiltonia Fitness Coordinator for more information 050 314 6342.
