I was late to practice due to unexpected complications at the dentist last night. Guo, Weeble, Little Mountain Pig and Teacher X were all there. I chatted with Teacher X a bit; he corrected me on my impression that the old student from last week had gotten out of dentistry; it turns out I got that wrong.

Teacher X told me about the 8 Points and left/right-right/left, which I found pretty useful. LM Pig practiced with me for while. He said it took him a long time before he could put his palms together behind his back. I can do this already, for some reason. He reminded me that we can incorporate tai-chi in everyday life. “Little Qin used to ask Master Yu why he was never seen practicing the forms,” he told me, though this was well before Pig’s time. “Master Yu said he was practicing all the way there, just by walking.”

As I was talking with Teacher X I realized that it is inevitably going to run into some problems; mainly, I can’t be sure what I should and should not communicate on here concerning what I’m learning, for similar reasons that I was discussing with Pig on Saturday. I’ve gotten some clues that it might be the best idea to relate everything we talk about on here. In fact, I started this account almost two years ago as more of an open notebook for recording my progress and stuff I’d learned, so not writing about everything feels a little strange. The only other option, really, would be to make this a private journal. I don’t know if I would have as much of an impetus to write in it in that case, even though I realize that hardly anyone reads it now.

I’ll have to think about this.

There was a new student at the park last Wednesday, who turned out to be an old student of Teacher X’s from like ten years ago. He’s opened up a couple of dentist offices over the years, Teacher X told me. We practiced a bit, and he wore himself out trying to push me, and I wore myself out not being pushed. Not a great learning experience. A couple of weeks ago I finally managed to successfully turn aside one of Teacher X’s attacks, which made me pretty happy. Of course, all he had to do was push me in the other direction, and I went down. Oh well. Still: progress!

I went to practice on Saturday morning at CKS Hall because I needed the boost and to work out some kinks after a largely sleepless night. Due to endless construction on the concert hall, our group has moved to the opera hall across the square. I was surprised to see only one dancing student group. As I warmed up and went through form work, a group of young art students showed up with wooden boards and paper.

No-lose Guy and Mr. V were going at each other in freestyle tuishou, shoving each other around the veranda, as I talked with Teacher X about his latest interest in Gothic calligraphy. He told me that a drunken mainlander has been bothering the group at the Sun Yat-sen Memorial Hall site where they practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Apparently he and Teacher X got into it a bit last week. “Little Mountain Pig had a talk with him,” Teacher X said.

A small group of people walked up the stairs about then. One of the group, a middle-aged Caucasian fellow, did some martial arts poses for the rest of the group, who were apparently Taiwanese. They took pictures, applauded and praised his prowess in English.

Little Mountain Pig showed up a bit later, and, surprisingly, gave me a rather in-depth lesson in the basics. The basic part isn’t a surprise, as he usually does that, but I wasn’t expecting him to get to into it. “You should be like a spring toy from the waist up,” he said, telling me not to rotate my body from the waist down so much (this is what the UPS Guy does too). “When you’re bent over in any direction,” -he bent backwards, forwards and to each side without really moving his legs- “Someone should be able to lay a table flat on top of you.” We practiced for a bit, and he provided an answer to the question of why Weeble was experimenting with not shoving people over as forcefully as he could last week. “Once you feel your opponent has nowhere to go, you can pull him back; you’ve both learned all you’re going to learn at that point,” he said. “If you’re really serious, though, you should be able to make your opponent jump back twice. This gives you an advantage in a fight, as he’s out and away from you, and you can plan your next move. One jump isn’t enough.” He also said it was more natural to keep your palms down when pushing. “The instinct is to turn your palms up, as you feel more in control, but as Master Zheng said, you should have hands everywhere, not just at the end of your arms.”

Pig has a similar yet different attitude about how one should view oneself in relation to other students. “You should see yourself as an expert,” he told me. “That way you’ll dare do things you wouldn’t otherwise try.” I told him about my view that I was the worst student in the class, so that I could be free to do anything without repercussions on any kind of reputation. “That works, too,” he said. “It basically means the same thing.”

After practice, when everyone else had left, we got to talking. He told me that the reason Little Qin hasn’t come to practice lately was because he was pissed off at L.M. Pig for teaching students who were outside our group. Apparently Little Qin takes the whole keeping-the-tradition-inside-the-family thing, and thought Pig was betraying Master Yang’s hard work in collecting such knowledge. So he told Pig they could talk about anything as long as it wasn’t about Tai-chi. “But everything is about Tai-chi, when you come down to it!” Pig told me. I get the feeling he regrets the rift between him and Little Qin.

When I pointed out that Little Qin himself has a blog on the subject, one that anyone can read, he said “That doesn’t matter; you can’t learn the essence of our style by reading about it. You have to be taught in person.”

“Someone once asked Master Yu if he was afraid that foreigners would steal all of his techniques,” Pig related. “Master Yu just laughed and said that would be very difficult, as so much of it needs to be seen through the context of Chinese culture and thought.” I couldn’t tell if this was what Pig himself believes. “You’ve got it, though, as you’re not really a foreigner,” he told me.

I’ve been skipping practice on Saturday mornings lately, due to other obligations. I hope to return to that when I have more time. I was first to the park last Wednesday, so I had some time to go through the sword form a few times before other students arrived. The new guy, Little Mountain Pig, Guo and Weeble seem to be the usual suspects lately. I did the empty-handed form after sword, which always feels strange because I need to remember to not project my focus beyond my hands as I do with the sword.

A group of badminton players tried to take over our space, but it turned out there was plenty of room for everyone. It was a bit distracting, however, as I also like badminton. I sat on the curb for a while, crushing leaves from the mystery plant. Guo literally ran away to find someone else to practice with, or perhaps I am reading too much into it. Maybe he reads this account and doesn’t like being described here. He and LMP both consider themselves high-level students, but when they practice together, LMP puts his hand on his head, as if he’s psychically trying to influence his opponent or something. He almost always pushes with one hand, testing the somehow inferior partner’s basic skills. The only time I’ve ever seen him really do tuishou was with Little Qin.

So it was up to us “lower-level” students, me and Weeble. It was hopeless, though, as Weeble, in a total reversal from last week, has reverted to his usual tense, “quick shove” style wrestling. He told me to push the skin, not the bones. It didn’t really work. Watching us, the badminton players laughed and aped our movements.

Teacher X said, “Your opponent creates your strategy with his energy. It’s like a triangle.” He stomped his foot. “That’s energy,” he said.

It’s been ages since I practiced. Last night I finally had some time to go to class in Yonghe. Another new guy was there, along with Guo, Weeble, Little Mountain Pig and Teacher X. Surpriginly, LMP was wearing shoes.

I loosened up and went through the empty-handed form, or what I remember of it, a few times. Then Weeble and I practiced. He’s realized that the only way that he can improve is by avoiding the sudden violent acts he used to spring on his opponents, which is a hopeful sign.

I was really tired and didn’t offer much resistance anyway. I then practiced with the new guy, whose name is Lai. Mostly I stood in front of him and waited for him to loose balance and fall over, but that’s the way it usually is at first.

When I’m resting, I always pick and crush some of the plant leaves on the border of the park, as I like their scent. I asked Weeble if it was mint, but he said no. Weeble works at a baozi stand, so he should know. If I find out what plant it is, I’d like to buy some for my place.