A recap of the seminar this past Sunday at maelstrøm:
On a slightly overcast Sunday morning, a group of ten students gather around a gentleman in his sixties and a young woman, his assistant. The picture of ‘wise old man’, he is Ajahn Stephen Wilson – a man who was once a soldier during the Vietnam War and once a student of martial arts in Thailand. Now he stands as a expert instructor, with a long white beard and large wire-rimmed glasses that accentuate the years of wisdom and knowledge that only comes with hard training and a long life. He runs every day with his student and fellow instructor Ajahn Gabi Maxwell, the woman by his side, but this discipline belies his easygoing manner and light jokes.
The topic is the Thai boxing stance – a position bouncing lightly back and forth with hands up, moving in a circular manner. Simple to the outside viewer, the proper movement takes longer than one might think to acquire. The two instructors go around to observe and dole out pointers. Emphasis is on timing and pendulum-like beats, matching rhythm with a partner. Adding front and rear kick entries, students begin to understand the how and why of this lesson. “I could do this for hours. Literally hours.” Gabi says while adopting the familiar stance.
In time, the material turns to another fundamental: elbowing. The trade mark of Muay Thai, the Science of the Eight Limbs, elbows are as much a weapon as the traditional fist. More of a weapon, some may even say – the well-honed elbow is bone-hard, fast, and surprisingly accessible. In the unspoken unity of long-time martial arts students, everyone breaks from the one-on-one partnering and forms a circle. What follows is an enumerated list of different strikes. Each type of strike is refined and precise coming from Ajahn Stephen, and his assistant shows each one with a grace that is equal parts ease and intensity.
The first elbows are across. Then diagonals, up and down. Then straight up. Slowly the techniques get more complicated. There is an elbow on the collarbone with a front foot stomp. This requires extra time and explanation – front foot always, no matter which elbow, how to reach with your elbow, the context and the reasons for its use. A barrage of terms are introduced with each new way to elbow – definitely something you wouldn’t get messing around by yourself. Inside and outside elbows, elbow insertions or the elbow slide, spinning back elbows, snap elbows, flash elbows. All through this, Ajahn Gabi adds to the senior instructor’s remarks – she is a natural teacher and clearly passionate about Muay Thai.
The adjustments are endless: Ajahn Stephen points out foot placement and the consequences of a misplaced foot, Ajahn Gabi talks about pivoting, both are adamant about the dangers of exposing your back, and everyone has something to learn. Eventually the class leads organically to pad work. Although there is no direct instruction, soon every pair of students has focus mitts while the instructors go around feeding strikes and commenting on relevant points. Some get special techniques as they find appropriate. Gabi demonstrates catching a kick and pulling the opponent into your elbow. Stephen works with one student on the spinning back elbow and how to segue into a continuous attack.
Next they switch focus to Krabi Krabong, the Thai weapons art noted for its use of double swords – daab song meu. But today Ajahn Stephen opts for single sword and takes the students through a standard drill. Ajahn Gabi sits down – Krabi Krabong is not her specialty. But she listens as her teacher explains. In the formal art, there are no diagonal cuts, says Stephen, only straight across or up and down and he demonstrates why. Loki, the head instructor of maelstrøm, is the demonstrating partner and he feeds each technique with practiced attention to the subtle wording or body invitation of the demonstrating teacher. At the appointed time, he gives a kick or jams an arm or swings a strike. Ajahn Stephen notes the small but important things: keep the sword point where it intimidates the opponent, drop body weight into every strike, use two hands to strengthen a strike or a block, keep control of the range at all times. He points out some differences between Filipino kali, another art noted for using swords and sticks, and Krabi Krabong; he offers a little gem of advice on how to hold a sword with a thumb grip so that it does not collapse; he amplifies on the how metal swords can be used to bite and deflect the opponent’s weapon. Then he shows a basic drill pattern and the rest of the class is devoted to its practice: kaw, kaw, hua, soy, kaw, kaw, soy, soy. As always, there are many details to be given notice, to adjust and to expand on.
***
Observing the seminar, I sit with my pad of paper, observing and scribbling as the awkward audience for the class, the only person in the room not striking with elbows or sticks. During the latter part of the class, Ajahn Gabi takes a seat across from me and an impromptu interview begins. The 26 year-old had a Muay Thai bout yesterday. She starts talking about it by asking “So did you hear about what happened yesterday?”. I knew about the fight but was only vaguely aware of the result. “I got knocked out,” She says, and later parts her hair to show the bruise from her opponent’s leg kick. With inescapable emotion, she describes her anger and disappointment at having worked so hard and then having her opportunity over just like that, snapping her finger, in the second round.
Gabi’s passionate is evident as I ask more about her connection to Muay Thai. Seven years into Muay Thai, she’s fought nine organized fights – nine more than many other martial arts practitioner will ever experience. “I love the way they move. I love the respect and discipline [of the art].” She shakes her head to my question – is there anything you do not like about Muay Thai ? “It’s hard mentally, but it shapes who I am.” Later on she says “There’s something very real about martial arts. [When you enter the ring], you see what you know and don’t know… There’s no use lying to yourself. I will never stop martial arts. Muay Thai is the only way I can express myself.” Indeed, it is difficult to imagine her not being a Muay Thai fighter with the light in her eyes that come on as she speaks about martial arts.
I ask about training with Ajahn Stephen and learn that he loves grapefruit and McDonald’s Filet-o-Fish. But Ajahn Gabi extolls the older man’s teaching skills. She relates that he has completely reshaped her, built her up into a Muay Thai fighter, that he’s hard on her even though he’s easy-going, that he has taught her everything she knows. All-around praise that even I can verify from the short time Ajahn Stephen has been teaching this Sunday.
The loss in the fight troubles her though, as she resolves to keep training and ponders on what she needs to improve on. She is clear that stepping in the ring is a whole other ball game. “You can’t let fear spread, because it will spread like wildfire.” Originally fighting to test the real combat applications of Muay Thai, she says that the hardest part is believing in herself. Again, her consuming passion enthralls me as she talks about training twice a day, every day, even while working as massage therapist. “Keep going, that’s what Muay Thai means to me. Never give up. Put your heart into it.” And if there ever were words of a warrior and student, these were them.
***
Soon the final hour of the seminar is over. Ajahns Stephen and Gabi stand in place of honour as the host, Loki, leads the group in thanking them. They will drive back to Mount Vernon, Washington this afternoon and leave in their place a group of inspired students, full with a morning of rare and valuable martial arts training.