  One
day Bobby Kaplan, the Jazz singer and drummer, asked me to show
him how to punch. He had heard I knew how. One thing led to another
and for the next five or so years I taught him how to fight with
a knife. Bobby had been studying Tai Chi for many years and was
particularly proficient at “push hands”, which was useful
in infighting. Drumming had also made Bobby ambidextrous, and he
caught on very quickly. There came a point when we knew each other’s
strengths and weaknesses too well and sparing became more challenging
but less fun. We then found four people, three men and one woman,
to join us, a difficult task at that time in tranquil San Miguel.
Two of the men were black belts, in Jujitsu and Shodokan respectively,
looking for exercise and anxious to try a new discipline. The third
man was an ex-cop, who said he had always been more afraid of an
attacker with a knife than a gun. And the woman, who had studied
Kempo and a form of Japanese sword, said she just loved a good scrap,
as indeed she did.
Now if you were to ask, say, a priest or a stockbroker, walking
down an American city street if he would like to learn to fight
with a knife there is a pretty good chance, he would pause, think
a moment, and say, “Yeah, that could come in handy.”
After all, the U.S. has over 10,000 homicides a year, while Canada
and European countries have a couple hundred or so each. For an
American, knife fighting just might make sense.
In San Miguel, where the gringos rarely stray from the security
of the well-trodden paths of the historic district, and the presence
of law enforcement is more prevalent in the center of town, considerations
of personal self defense are virtually non-existent. True, I understand
knives are occasionally part of a hot Saturday night tequila-inspired
misunderstanding within a certain segment of the Mexican community,
but their approach and style is more informal. Two Mexican women
studied with me for a couple months, showing great enthusiasm and
determination. Sadly, both moved away. Perhaps this was in fact
fortunate, for someone. Bobby also moved to San Antonio a couple
of years ago, and the only serious student I have taught since is
Dan Kandell, who has struggled mightily with the difference between
a punch and a cut, and whose studies have been interrupted by the
energy taken to publish this fine periodical.
There is a point to this story and it has little to do with knife
fighting, despite my long martial reminiscence. I came to San Miguel
in 1985. The town has changed a lot: traffic, graffiti, potholes,
to name a few of the more obvious negatives, but I like it better.
There are younger people, with no age discrimination, and the population
is ethnically more varied every day. There are more rich liberals
and this “war” has brought activists, Mexican and gringo,
of every age out of the woodwork. Besides La Jerga, there are a
number of alternative journals being published and even Atención
is behaving like a real newspaper. Good movies are available. More
serious painters are here. Short films are being made and winning
awards. And the people involved in all of the above and more are
of every age and nationality.
One night in Le Petit bar nine people were sitting in the entryway
around two small tables. There was an Italian sculptor-painter working
on a project to provide free art instruction for young Mexicans.
Two filmmakers, one retired New Zealander and one young Mexican
who would later win first prize in his category at the Expresión
en Corto film festival. A Dutch poet. An old American painter. And
two young Mexican actresses involved in a local production. Oh,
and I forgot to include myself, an old knife fighter.
Now, at last, to my point. In a town this varied and rich there
is a community that offers more distractions than your average luxury
cruise ship. This is a town where you can learn to levitate, be
one with the universe or discover your inner clown for $175 bucks
and three days of your time. Before San Miguel, you had to walk
the earth barefoot or sit cross-legged and naked meditating on a
mountaintop for four years rubbing ashes on your head to learn such
things. You can even, miraculously enough, find 12 people who want
to learn to fight with a knife.
After all this praise, then just what is the trouble with San Miguel?
San Miguel is a city unparalleled in its beauty, climate and society.
Then why of all things, why, I ask you, are there no sidewalk cafes?
Something has to be done about it.
Keith Keller is a 3rd Degree black belt in Ji Do Kwan style of Tae
Kwon Do and has an instructors rank (cinco estrellas) in arnis de
mano, Philippine stick and knife fighting, and holds lower ranks
in Aikido and Judo. He is also a painter, and on occasion, writes.
His favorite pastime is people watching in sidewalk cafes. He is
also completely oblivious to the fact that there are no sidewalks
in San Miguel. |
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