Autobiography of Uehara Seikichi 1
Translated from his 1992 autobiography
Preface
Added June 24, 2022
Uehara Seikichi’s “Bu no Mai” (Martial Dance) (1992) is the first book published by Uehara Sensei. Although the content of this book is excellent, it has been 30 years since its release. It has also been out of print for a long time. Secondhand copies are expensive, and it is difficult for the general public to read them unless they go to the National Diet Library or a prefectural library.
In 2021, I translated the first part of his autobiography into English and introduced it on this blog. The post was very well received. Therefore, to the extent allowed by Japanese copyright law, I would also like to quote from the beginning of the original Japanese version of the autobiography on this blog.
I would like to explain a little about how this book was formed. This book was written based on the dictation of Uehara Sensei. Initially, Mr. T, a disciple of Ikeda Moritoshi of Saitama Prefecture, who was then a member of Motobu-ryū, was assigned to write the draft for the book. Uehara Sensei paid for his travel expenses and invited Mr. T to Okinawa, where an interview with Uehara Sensei was also conducted. The first draft by Mr. T was completed, but it had several major issues. It contained not only what Uehara Sensei had said in the interview, but also some of Mr. T’s original content and his own guesses.
The style of writing, especially the explicit description of Uehara Sensei’s war experiences during his immigration to the Philippines, was such that even if Uehara Sensei read it, it would be painful for him to recall those days. Therefore, Uehara Sensei decided that the first draft could not be published in its original form. Therefore, he decided to decline his request to Mr. T and asked some of his disciples in Okinawa to write a new draft. The new writers were Arasaki Fumiko (now a Shihan at Tamonkan Dojo) and Mr. S. Both were students of Uehara Sensei’s Seidōkan Dojo. In rewriting the draft, Shihan Arasaki interviewed Uehara Sensei again, and the tapes of the interview are still in existence, and I have a copy of the tapes.
In the process of rewriting the draft, most of Mr. T’s original content was removed, but there are a few passages that remain. I will not quote those parts in this blog.
A Boy Who Could Be Anywhere
On March 24, 1904, I was born in Oroku Village, Shimajiri County, Okinawa Prefecture (now absorbed into Naha City) as the fifth of seven children. My father, Uehara Kamado, was a farmer and also engaged in the family business of making and selling miso and soy sauce. Both businesses were relatively successful, and my family was in the upper middle class in Okinawa at that time, probably. As a young boy, I was a bit naughty, but I was just like any other boy.
A major turning point in my life came when I was in the sixth grade of elementary school. Up until then, I had thought that I wanted to go on to junior high school after graduating from elementary school. At that time, junior high school was not compulsory education, so my family needed to be able to afford it. However, my older brothers had also graduated from Okinawa Agricultural and Forestry School, so we were financially secure and my parents were in favor of my going to junior high school. However, just before I was to enter junior high school, my brother’s business failed and the family went bankrupt.
To pay off the debt, we sold all of our fields and also sold the house we had been living in. (The house was so large that no individual buyer could be found for it, so it was purchased to be used as a “village house” or a “public facility.” Incidentally, the house remained there until after World War II.) As a result, our family had to live in a soy sauce storehouse. We managed to avoid selling the tools we used to make miso and soy sauce, but the family was suddenly plunged into poverty and I started working as soon as I graduated from elementary school.
Longing for Strength
My job was to peddle miso and soy sauce. I went from house to house, taking orders and delivering them. One day, as I was hurrying home after work, dragging my tired body, I met a man on the street who was scrubbing something hard. He turned his back to me and covered it with his body. As I happened to look at the scene, I caught a glimpse of a wooden bucket. I immediately recognized it as a bucket for storing miso and soy sauce. The bucket had my brother’s initials written on it in red pencil, “U. K. (K for Kantarō).” In his hand, which appeared to be scrubbing, he was holding a small knife. The man was trying to steal the bucket by scraping off my brother’s initials. “I have become so poor, I can’t let him take anything more!” This thought came to me with anger.
That anger was followed by, “What are you doing? That’s my bucket!” came out of my mouth as a shout. But the man ignored me. I shouted again, this time even louder. The man turned around and stood up, as if to confirm my words. I vaguely recognized his face. He was a man of the same occupation as me, a seventeen or eighteen year old man named N.M. He was famous for practicing “karate” (唐手, tōdī) and was a big and violent man.
I was about to shout again. Before I could say a word or two, I felt a tremendous impact on my body. I have no idea how many times I was thrown and how many times I was hit, but when I came to, I was lying on the ground. I tried to get up, but my whole body hurt and I couldn’t do anything. Finally, I got up and went home crying. Tears were pouring out, and I couldn’t stop them.
In hindsight, I think those tears were not all about him beating me up. I wanted to go to junior high school, but suddenly I couldn’t go. I was suddenly thrown into the depths of poverty. I had my bucket taken by force. I was beaten up. Everything that I had done in my life changed.
In other words, it was probably tears of regret for my fate. And through those tears, I began to long for strength. My bucket was taken, and I was beaten. I felt regretful. I think the meaning of those tears was that I wanted to be strong and turn my fate itself around. This desire grew stronger with each passing day.
Finding a Master
How could I become stronger? I really thought about it. I became vaguely interested in martial arts. Gradually, I began to seriously want to learn martial arts.
At that time, there was no such thing as a karate school, and people called martial arts tī (手, lit. hand) or tōdī (唐手, lit. Chinese hand). In those days, there were many masters and experts in Okinawa who later became famous on the Japanese mainland, and the karate world in Okinawa was like a collection of karate masters. In addition to masters such as Miyagi Chōjun, Funakoshi Gichin, Kyan Chōtoku, Mabuni Kenwa, and Motobu Chōyū, there were many famous and unknown karate practitioners.
I made up my mind to learn karate, but in reality, it did not work out that way. In those days, karate masters would not teach you unless you had a reliable introduction. Learning karate, in a nutshell, was much more difficult than it seems today.
I thought and thought. Then I came up with an idea. I came up with a way to become a disciple, but now I had to figure out who to learn from. The karate teachers were all masters of their craft. I immediately thought of Mr. M. [1] He lived in the area where I used to peddle, and his skills were well known as some of the best in Okinawa.
Now, the day had come to put my idea into action. At that time, there was a movie theater called “Teikoku-kan” (Imperial Movie Theater) near Higashimachi Street in Naha, and that day, Mr. M stopped in front of the Teikoku-kan and gazed at a movie sign. It was now or never. I threw myself at his back. Mr. M seemed to be caught completely off guard by this. He fell down and badly scraped his knees.
When Mr. M got up, he scolded me severely, but I begged him desperately to let me use this opportunity to learn martial arts. In the end, Mr. M promised to teach me the martial arts. Finally, I was able to learn the martial arts that I had always wanted.
1. Mabuni Kenwa.
Encounter with Motobu Chōyū Sensei
Although I was accepted as a disciple by Mr. M, the results were disappointing. In those days, no martial artist had a dojo, and most practiced in their own gardens, vacant lots, beaches, etc. Mr. M’s training place was his garden. I spent many days cleaning the garden and waiting for him to teach me martial arts. He wouldn’t teach me, however, even after three months. In hindsight, I think Mr. M was trying to test my motivation, but as I wanted to become stronger as soon as possible, I felt impatient every day. I was scolded several times for imitating my seniors, with comments like, “You’re just a kid, what are you imitating?” When I was about to enter the fourth month of such a situation, I left Mr. M’s place and started looking for a master again.
I had a fateful encounter with Motobu Chōyū Sensei in July of 1916. He lived in Tsuji Town at the time. People called him “Motobu Umē” (本部御前, Prince Motobu). I was peddling in Tsuji Town, and I was looking for an opportunity to ask Chōyū Sensei for initiation. At that time, there was a large theater called Taishō Theater in Nishishin Town, Naha City, and Chōyū Sensei was just gazing at the sign. My approach was the same as it was for Mr. M. I checked the moment when the traffic stopped, and then I lunged at him. The moment I thought I had completely blown him away, I felt an inexplicable pain. My wrist had been twisted up by Chōyū Sensei.
“I don’t know what the reason is, but I don’t like this kind of prank,” he said, finally releasing my hand. I looked up timidly, completely bewildered by the twisting of my wrist. There was no anger in Chōyū Sensei’s eyes. On the contrary, I saw kindness in his eyes. Chōyū Sensei asked me again, “Why did you do this to me?”
As I had done with Mr. M, I replied, “I heard that Your Highness is the strongest martial artist (bushi) in Okinawa, so I tried Your Highness out.” Chōyū Sensei looked surprised and said, “You tested me?” Then he turned back around, looking very confident. I immediately understood what he meant: “Come at me.” He seemed to think that I was completely unworthy of his attention. To be honest, I thought he was underestimating me. I guess I had a strange kind of confidence after pushing Mr. M down. I pushed his back as hard as I could, just to get back at him for twisting my wrist.
However, he did not budge in the slightest. In fact, I thought he had roots growing in his feet. Chōyū Sensei laughed heartily, saying, “What, your strength is like that?” He looked as if he couldn’t stop laughing. But there was something about his laugh that made me feel at ease. It was the kind of laughter that enveloped me.
I probably kept doing this for about five minutes. I was so exhausted that I sat down, and from the bottom of my heart, I began to feel deeply ashamed that I finally started to cry. It was not tears of frustration, but tears of shame. Then, in tears, I appealed to him, “I want to be as strong as Your Highness. Please teach me tī.”
Chōyū Sensei must have sensed something unusual in my behavior. He took me to his residence in Tsuji Town and allowed me to become his disciple.
The original translation was posted on July 13, 14, 15, and 16, 2021 on the Ameba blog.
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