| |
Western Enlightenment
The Chitoses
were a traditional Japanese family in which the women
served the men, taking care of
meals, laundry, housekeeping and more. As family
patriarch and peerless karate man, Dr. Chitose kept
himself above mundane household concerns. He didn’t
eat a piece of food that wasn’t served to him.
If you asked him where the rice cooker was – an
appliance that had stared him in the face for years
– he probably couldn’t tell you. He was
always the first to immerse himself in the hot water
of
the
family bath and was chauffeured, usually by
his son, to any appointments he had.
One time I made a mistake of offering O-Sensei the
small monthly amount of money I paid to cover my room,
board and training at the honbu dojo. He made a face
and
shook his head. Like a samurai, he considered matters of money beneath
him. I didn’t make that mistake again. From then on, I always made sure
my monthly payments were given directly to Mama-san, who accepted them with a
polite bow.
I actually first met O-Sensei
in 1973 in Toronto, Canada, when he traveled to North
America to conduct
clinics with Kugizaki-Sensei. With a serious back
injury at age 16, I am out of gi. The young brown belt
on
the far left is Alan Hayashi, a friend and the nephew
of my teacher, Higashi-Sensei.
Even as a pampered young man in my 20s,
I was sometimes abashed when, during a meal, my rice
bowl or soup bowl would get low. Suddenly, Mama-san
or one of the Chitose daughters, Reiko-san or Mitsuko-san,
would spring out of their seats, hold out their hands and ask, “Okawari?” Would
I like more? I would nod my head, give my thanks, “Arigato,” and
new food would appear before me.
I didn’t exactly object to this arrangement
but had some vague idea that future girlfriends in
Canada
wouldn’t
be impressed by my placid acceptance of status quo.
I didn’t have the courage to make my demonstration
of Western enlightenment in front of the master. So
I waited until the tail end of one meal when I was
left at the table with Reiko-san and her husband, Sakamoto-Sensei. Looking
at my nearly empty rice bowl, Reiko-san asked, “Okawari?” I
held up my hand to let her know she needn’t bother.
With Reiko-san and Sakamoto-Sensei tracking my progress
in silence, I got up, walked over to the rice maker,
scooped myself a fresh helping and then sat down.
Sakamoto looked at his wife for a moment and then
pushed her out of her chair. She took his rice bowl,
filled it and came back to the table meekly bobbing
her head,
saying in a high, squeaky voice, “Hai, hai, hai . . .”
After placing the bowl in front of her husband, Reiko-san
sat down again and then she and Sakamoto-Sensei burst
into laughter.
I
left
the
table
feeling
vaguely
humiliated.
|
