Are you off to play ti-gwa?

Please allow me this opportunity to introduce to you my late Okinawan mother-in-law, Mrs Kinjo, alias Ōbā (or Honoured Grandmother). She was one of the biggest influences on my perception of the psychology of the martial arts. In the late 1970s Ōbā once remarked to me as I was leaving home, training gi in hand, “Are you off to play ti-gwa?” My somewhat cheeky retaliatory reply of “Yes, Ōbā -gwa!” was not well taken though. 

Yet I think she forgave the insult because of my then lack of understanding of Okinawan culture, politely retaliating in the courteous Shuri language of her birth that it was grammatically incorrect to use the diminutive suffix ‘gwa’ to refer to her. Then why did she add the same impertinent suffice of ‘gwa’ to ‘ti’, I needed to ask?

I know it is confusing, but Okinawans of Ōbā’s age-group used ‘ti’ (‘te’ in Japanese) as a generic term to mean all and every kind of Okinawan martial art. Thus karate (lit: empty hands), tode (lit: Chinese te), kobudo (weapons practice) and Okinawan te (the former martial art of the nobility) were all confused together as ‘ti’ (or te). 

My annoyance on this occasion was that I had just begun to train at the Bugeikan in Shuri under Seitoku Higa, specifically to learn Okinawan te (or ti), so Ōbā’s use of ‘ti-gwa’ sounded as if she was trying to belittle Okinawan te. However, on later contemplation, I realized she was not - far from it.

Ōbā had been through a lot in her long and lustrous life. She had protected and guided her family through the three-month long Battle of Okinawa, by sheltering in caves and tombs and eating grass. She had witnessed untold carnage with over 100,000 of her brethren being slaughtered. She had lost all her material goods and seen her whole neighborhood around Shuri transformed into a pot-holed moonscape. After the Battle, Ōbā’s three healthy sons had died of meningitis up north in the civilian holding camp at Kin. And, you see, as her adopted son-in-law, Ōbā felt for my safety too.

Long before the War though, personal tragedy had struck. In her younger days Ōbā had dated her dokyusei and all-time heartthrob, Ankichi Arakaki (both born in 1899). He was the son of a ‘Shuri bushi’ who had trained under Shinpan Shiroma and taught Okinawan te techniques and tode (karate) kata to the likes of Shoshin Nagamine, the later founder of (Matsubayashi) Shorin-ryu. It was quite well known by the locals and the fact was reinforced by Ōbā that Ankichi Arakaki died after an agonising trauma when aged 28, caused, it is claimed, from a toe-tip kick that had been applied by the older and more experienced martial artist, Soko Kishimoto.

You see, Ōbā’s concerns for me were that, through the grapevine of family and friends, she had learned that I was now training at the Bugeikan under Seitoku Higa. And, if you have done your research, you will know that he had trained, among others, under Soko Kishimoto. Hence Ōbā’s use of the term ‘ti-gwa’ had been a warning to me, a protective caution, because she well knew the awesome potential of Kishimoto’s te. Like the modern use of English words where ‘bad’ sometimes means ‘awesome’, the diminutive suffice ‘gwa’ can also have an equally reverse augmentative meaning, as when one is filled with awe; and Ōbā’s use of ‘ti-gwa’ that day meant just that - awesome-ti.

In reality though, Ōbā had nothing to worry about because the Bugeikan dojo and Seitoku Higa proved to be as generous, open and accepting as was Ōbā; reflecting the wide-ranging trend among the populace of the Ryukyu Islands. 

Looking back, it was actually Ōbā who first introduced me to the therapeutic aspects of Okinawan te (ti) by demonstrating her ancestral anma system. And it was Ōbā who taught me about Okinawa taimu and how not to be in such a rush. 

Perhaps then, we who train in the martial arts that have as their major influence the psychology of ‘diplomacy over violence’ or ‘training for life’ at their roots need to heed our Okinawan ancestral brethren and pay their psychology more heed during this worldwide festive season.

Unfortunately, I did not save the name of the author.