Vernon Shall Taste My Cold Steel

I'm back from a weekend iaido seminar at Vernon.

They certainly picked the right venue - there is nothing else to do in that town that would distract our focus from training, other than winery tours. And we all knew that if we engaged in that activity, it would quickly degenerate into a winery crawl, and it would certainly look bad the morning after when we have to attend workshops instructed by the head of the Canadian Iaido Association. Therefore, such attempts to appease our oenophilia are out of the question. (As a compromise, we opted to knock back beers before bedtime and watch a hilarious satire on the American dystopia called Idiocracy instead.)

I've been practicing iaido for almost a year now. What started out as merely something to complement my kendo has become a deeper look into what it's like to be a samurai. Nevertheless, no matter how much I train, I don't think I can ever be a samurai. It's not because there is too little to associate with present culture and society, but rather because the whole self-disembowelment-upon-command thing doesn't really float well with me. You've probably heard of it as seppuku or hara-kiri. If my boss ever commands me to make a wide U-shaped cut across my abdomen so that my intestines spill out, and then wait for my best friend to behead me as a coup de grâce, I'd cut him down before he is able to finish his sentence.

That, however, doesn't put me down in the bottom of those idiots who watch Highlander movies and think they are the shit when it comes to samurai expertise. For those of you unfamiliar with the movie (and TV show) franchise, the premise is that for centuries, our world has been populated by immortals who can only be killed by beheading, and who must fight with wallhangers until only one is left standing victorious. That One shall receive The Ultimate Prize - a $2 gift certificate to Dairy Queen.

So here I was in Vernon as part of my efforts not to fall into the above category of ignorant fools. Even though we practice with iaito, unsharpened swords not fit for cutting, it can still be dangerous because the tips are still very pointy. I was practicing with my senpai's sword, which has the distinction of not only being the heaviest sword in our class, but also having the blade with the longest tip, which made sheathing it a bitch.

One technique involved turning around and thrusting the blade behind me. Since I had to hold the sword with one hand for this technique, I got careless and allowed weight to catch me off-guard, so that the tip of the blade fell abruptly dropped mid-thrust, and would've went through my thumb had the phalangeal bone not stopped it. It was quite a gusher, and I compressed the wound with a cold wet paper towel for some time before giving up and putting a bandage over it anyway to allow it to clot on its own.

This wasn't the first time this sword tasted my blood, but it was certainly the first time it had such a big drink. Thus, besides improving my iaido skills with more intensive training than usual, this seminar was beneficial towards furthering my study of the samurai in that I have learned to somewhat bleed like one.

If not that, then I've become closer towards perhaps someday getting $2 off my strawberry sundae.