Apart from the magnificent city, I also had the honour to practise at one of the biggest company dojo in Japan: the Mitsubishi Dojo. All thanks to Shohei's uncle. I'm telling you, a little contact goes a long way!
Anyhoo, there was nothing outstanding to point out about the practise. It was two hours full of ji-keiko, no kihon whatsoever. I spent most of the time in awe at the cheekiness and technique of the kendokas present. Though older, they all had something special up their sleeves. Most of the attendees were 7dan, a few 6dan, 8dan, and even one 9dan.
After some educational fights, I queued up for the hachi-dan. The name escapes me, trying to remember 20-30 foreign (to me) names in two hours whilst being constantly hit on the head wasn't exactly an easy task. In any case, after 2-3 men cuts, he just did a sankyo, signalling that he'd probably had enough of me. It was time for me to walk away with my head hanging in shame.
Fine! Next. How many people on Earth can say they've had a keiko with a 9dan? Yeah, that's right. Suck it up bitches. It wasn't really a ji-keiko though, more like uchikomi, but no matter, I still learned a bit about timing, keeping centre, and a word I don't think I'll ever cease to hear 'masugui!' The funny thing though, was that ... nobody was queuing up for him ... which I found rather puzzling. Afterwards, during dinner/beer Nakamura-san cured my curiosity by telling me that, everyone was afraid they'd be the one to kill the old man, and nobody wanted to do that! So there you have it. The reason nobody queued up for a 9dan.
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