Kendo in the Prairies
Oct. 27th, 2017 02:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
daemavandLast weekend, I went to Edmonton for a small local kendo tournament. Despite the 3-hour monotonous drive, I was looking forward to the event to meet more fellow "local" kendoka and to see what the community is like when gathered as a whole. Kendo is already a niche activity within Canada, and the kendo community in Alberta is small and annoyingly spread out: Edmonton, Calgary, and Lethbridge. The two biggest Canadian kendo hubs are Vancouver and Toronto, home to nine and ten dojos, respectively, according to the Canadian Federation's website. These numbers increase if you include other clubs strewn throughout their respective provinces; comparatively, Alberta has three dojos, with a fourth becoming a new member of the federation in 2018. I've always believed in the "quality over quantity" mentality, so the small numbers don't necessarily bother me - especially if you consider that Calgary is home to the current Canadian National Champion and his dojo. Additionally, my dojo is run by a former National Team prospect, and there's a rokudan Sensei living in Banff; so there's clearly talented kendoka in and around Calgary.
The tournament brought about 45 participants, which I consider to be a healthy size for a local tournament. This also included naginata practitioners (maybe 6-8 of them?), as Edmonton has, if I recall correctly, the largest naginata club in Canada. The Senseis and organizers were thrilled by these numbers; evidently the community is growing. Edmonton's dojo is huge compared to the two in Calgary, with about 15-20 kendo participants. We were eight from my dojo (which is pretty much all of the seniors), and only three made it up from Chinook. I didn't know what to expect, but the quality of Edmonton's kendo surprised me - they're awesome.
I still cannot grasp how generally friendly everyone is in Alberta, at least compared to Montréal and Québec. This was once again thrown in my face at the tournament. From mudansha to Senseis, everyone was incredibly approachable and open to conversation and exchange. You could feel that everyone was at ease and happy to be there. Of course friends and dojomates selectively socialized with each other more than others, but people mingled freely, regardless of dojo or city. There was enough competitive spirit that made people want to win and do their best, but not so much that it created any sentiments of resentment or rivalry (at least, none that were visible to me). People wanted to win, but not winning wasn't a big deal, because kendo is wonderful and everyone seemed to be on the same page for that. No egos. Just kendo.
It was also small enough that there was only a single court, allowing everyone to watch everyone, rather than having two or three for larger tournaments. I found that to be really cool. Certificates were awarded for the winners at the end, and there were lots of goofy photos taken. We didn't even keep track of who won in the teams portion (which was impromptu, as the organization went exceedingly smoothly and there ended up being lots of extra time).
The cost of the tournament was 10 dollars, including food. TEN GOD DAMN DOLLARS. I'm used to a $ 50 registration fee for Québec and Ontario tournaments, even small ones, and I know that this often deterred me and others from participating; many kendoka are students and play in university clubs. On top of this, lunch was an additional 10 bucks if you wanted one (sometimes more, and it was never enough food for me, which is why I learned very early on to pack my own lunch). But here? Lunch was a casual buffet. The organizers went to Costco, picked up a bunch of different cold-cuts, sliced cheeses, veggies, buns, salad mixes (potato & macaroni), bananas, chips and condiments for a build-your-own-sandwhich style meal. Simple and filling and more than enough for everyone - they were encouraging people to take leftovers on the drive home. NO BENTO BOXES! Bentos are common lunches at tournaments, for the sake of having something "traditionally Japanese" (which I think is ridiculous considering we're in Canada). However, as they're not cost-effective, I've never been fond of the decision. I liked this way more, and everyone else seemed perfectly content as well.
As people filled their plates, we all sat on the floor in the middle of the dojo and ate together in big circles. There was lots of mingling; I chatted up several of the Edmonton folks. It was kind of great, they were playful and lovely.
Overall, so far, I love the Alberta kendo community. It really is too bad that we're so spread out, but I told others and my Sensei that I'm willing and enthusiastic about helping with any logistics for future joint practices and events. I love kendo and I love the sense of community that I've experienced so far, and it motivates me to get involved and as much as I can to encourage and nurture it.
The tournament brought about 45 participants, which I consider to be a healthy size for a local tournament. This also included naginata practitioners (maybe 6-8 of them?), as Edmonton has, if I recall correctly, the largest naginata club in Canada. The Senseis and organizers were thrilled by these numbers; evidently the community is growing. Edmonton's dojo is huge compared to the two in Calgary, with about 15-20 kendo participants. We were eight from my dojo (which is pretty much all of the seniors), and only three made it up from Chinook. I didn't know what to expect, but the quality of Edmonton's kendo surprised me - they're awesome.
I still cannot grasp how generally friendly everyone is in Alberta, at least compared to Montréal and Québec. This was once again thrown in my face at the tournament. From mudansha to Senseis, everyone was incredibly approachable and open to conversation and exchange. You could feel that everyone was at ease and happy to be there. Of course friends and dojomates selectively socialized with each other more than others, but people mingled freely, regardless of dojo or city. There was enough competitive spirit that made people want to win and do their best, but not so much that it created any sentiments of resentment or rivalry (at least, none that were visible to me). People wanted to win, but not winning wasn't a big deal, because kendo is wonderful and everyone seemed to be on the same page for that. No egos. Just kendo.
It was also small enough that there was only a single court, allowing everyone to watch everyone, rather than having two or three for larger tournaments. I found that to be really cool. Certificates were awarded for the winners at the end, and there were lots of goofy photos taken. We didn't even keep track of who won in the teams portion (which was impromptu, as the organization went exceedingly smoothly and there ended up being lots of extra time).
The cost of the tournament was 10 dollars, including food. TEN GOD DAMN DOLLARS. I'm used to a $ 50 registration fee for Québec and Ontario tournaments, even small ones, and I know that this often deterred me and others from participating; many kendoka are students and play in university clubs. On top of this, lunch was an additional 10 bucks if you wanted one (sometimes more, and it was never enough food for me, which is why I learned very early on to pack my own lunch). But here? Lunch was a casual buffet. The organizers went to Costco, picked up a bunch of different cold-cuts, sliced cheeses, veggies, buns, salad mixes (potato & macaroni), bananas, chips and condiments for a build-your-own-sandwhich style meal. Simple and filling and more than enough for everyone - they were encouraging people to take leftovers on the drive home. NO BENTO BOXES! Bentos are common lunches at tournaments, for the sake of having something "traditionally Japanese" (which I think is ridiculous considering we're in Canada). However, as they're not cost-effective, I've never been fond of the decision. I liked this way more, and everyone else seemed perfectly content as well.
As people filled their plates, we all sat on the floor in the middle of the dojo and ate together in big circles. There was lots of mingling; I chatted up several of the Edmonton folks. It was kind of great, they were playful and lovely.
Overall, so far, I love the Alberta kendo community. It really is too bad that we're so spread out, but I told others and my Sensei that I'm willing and enthusiastic about helping with any logistics for future joint practices and events. I love kendo and I love the sense of community that I've experienced so far, and it motivates me to get involved and as much as I can to encourage and nurture it.
