Spinning, hissing, arms and legs pistoning – the 12 men are like steam locomotives. Karate master Morio Higaonna is supervising their training session. His attention turns to me. ‘It’s no good just watching,’ he says. ‘You have to take part.’ Higaonna takes one of my hands and interlaces his fingers with mine in what would be, in other contexts, an intimate clasp. There is a pause before, with shocking rapidity, he pulls my fingers up and back. I swear loudly and flap my hand to relieve the pain.
Normally, in Japan, loss of decorum is frowned upon but on this occasion there is laughter. With a mischievous smile, Higaonna apologises for hurting me. I look over at his hands. Decades of karate have distorted them into knuckly clubs. Higaonna is 78, but he doesn’t want to stop practising karate. ‘I am not satisfied,’ he says. ‘I have to continue seeking.’
Okinawa is an archipelago in southern Japan with tasty cuisine, coral reefs to dive for and more perfect beaches than you can shake a flip-flop at. It is also the historic home of karate. The main karate attraction here is the Karate Kaikan, that opened earlier this year at an apposite moment: karate is to be included in the Olympics for the first time, at the Tokyo 2020 games. We are in the dojo, or training hall, where visitors watch practice sessions and tournaments.
The kaikan is not Okinawa’s only karate attraction. For long periods, the martial art was banned and enthusiasts practised in secret, using secluded beaches, graveyards and caves. The most spectacular of the latter is the Bugei-do cave in Gangala valley. Wandering down what is actually a series of caves is relaxing enough although, rather than karate, the guided tour emphasises archaeological finds and natural history, notably stalactites, stalagmites, and an enormous banyan tree. ‘Okinawa is the most special place in Japan for karate,’ he says. ‘There are more than 400 dojos here, and more experience and variety than anywhere else.’
Karate master Tetsuhiro Hokama runs his own private museum, which has an extensive collection of memorabilia and artefacts, including a formidable display of weapons.
Tetsuhiro has a few reservations about the Olympics. ‘My heart is divided 50-50,’ he says. ‘If you just concentrate on the physical side of karate, that’s no good. The mental side is very important. Karate is not really a ‘sport’ sport.’
But the final word must go to Morio Higaonna, who has been variously designated as an official Okinawan asset and whose skills have led to him being described as ‘the world’s most dangerous man’. He says: ‘I’m proud of the kaikan. It’s splendid.’
He is equally clear about the Olympics. ‘We have traditional karate, and we have a sport karate. For the Olympics, sport karate is OK.’ When we bid each other farewell, in lieu of a handshake I offer him a polite bow.