Weonu and the Old Masters

A Story for Young Martial Artists

 

By

Gerald W. Goble

 

 

 

 

PROLOGUE

This is a story about an eight-year-old Korean boy named Weonu on a picnic with his grandfather.  Weonu takes Tae Kwon Do lessons from a master in the little town in which he lives.  Weonu doesn't practice as much as he should but he is a little boy and there are many things that interest him.  His master tells him that he should practice more because he comes from a family of martial artists.  His family is a very old and respected family.  Many years ago his family governed the little town in which he lives and the entire valley that surrounds it.  One of his ancestors maintained an army of martial artists to protect the people of the valley from bandits and pirates that came and tried to steal what the people had worked for and built.  The wars with the Japanese and the North Koreans left Weonu's family with only a brick foundry and a small bit of property on one of the near by mountains.  Weonu lives in a house in the little town in the valley with his parents.  His grandparents live in a house next door.  Today Weonu and his grandfather are taking a picnic lunch packed by his grandmother on a trip to visit the property on the mountain.  It is far away and they have to take a taxi to the path at the bottom of the mountain and walk the rest of the way up the steep narrow path.  It is Sunday, there is no school and Weonu is looking forward to the adventure.

 

 The morning was warm.  The sun had finally risen above the top of the mountain when they arrived.  It was Sunday and he and his grandfather had come to see the place where his family had lived long ago.  The trail up the mountain had been steep and the basket with their lunch had grown heavy and kept slipping from his hands.  He had to switch it from hand to hand as each arm got tired.  His Grandfather had given him the basket to carry when they started out, and that seemed a long time ago.  Sometimes it was as if his Grandfather forgot he was only 8.  He thought he would never reach the top. The place was three mounds of earth facing an open clearing. On the mounds were the remains of walls and columns that at one time had been houses.




"Here we are," his grandfather said as they passed through what must have been a gate into the courtyard.  He looked about.  There was a well in the center and around it stone circles formed the courtyard floor.  Weeds grew between the stones where enough dirt had collected to support their roots.  The well had collapsed on one side.

 

His grandfather looked about and pointed to the largest mound, "This was the main house.  It had many rooms with a walkway that went around the outside.  His grandfather looked around toward the well, "Long ago when our family owned the whole valley, there were buildings around the entire court yard with many people coming and going."

 

Suddenly he grasped the boy by the collar and lifted him and the picnic basket he was holding off of the ground. "Watch your step!"

He kicked a pile of leaves and a large brown spider scurried out and away.  "You need to be more aware of your surroundings.  You could have stepped on him."  Weonu thought he would have just as soon have stepped on it if he had seen it, but he knew his grandfather was very particular about killing anything, even a spider.
His grandfather resumed his story pointing to the mound on the left.  "The building there was where the animals were kept.  There were many water buffalo, pigs, chickens and horses.  It took a lot of food to keep everyone fed"

 

Turning around to the mound on the right he paused in silence for a few seconds.  "There is the place where the men trained to protect the valley from robbers and pirates.  In those days there were as many as a hundred men training."

 

His grandfather often told the stories of how his family owned this large compound and controlled the whole valley to as far back as records went.  How the Japanese invaders took it all away in the Second World War, and when after the war was over it was returned only to have the Chinese and North Korean soldiers burn it all to the ground in another war.

 

His grandfather continued, "When the Japanese took over the compound they use to train there too.  Of course, in those days it was forbidden for any Korean to train."

 

He paused looking into the open door to the remains of the building, "Several of the Japanese soldiers were killed in the place."  My father, your great grandfather, told me of one that was torn apart as if some wild animal had killed him.  The Japanese blamed it on an accident with a grenade, but my father blamed it on the spirits of old fighters that are suppose to haunt the place.

 

He paused again. "During the war it was burned by some Chinese soldiers that spent the night there."

 

As Weonu walked on, he thought... "Sure. Ghosts. Only an old man like that would believe in ghosts."

 

Now, the main house was only pieces.  Four columns of stone and crumbled walls traced out its size.

 

The building for the animals only consisted of a single wall at the far side of the mound. It must have been the back wall.

 

The training hall was more complete. Partially because of the thickness of the four stone walls that still stood.  Large burned and blackened wooden timbers that must have once supported the roof ran the length of the building.

"Up here." the old man said, as he walked past the well and climbed the steps leading up the center mound.  Weonu followed, the basket of food bumping his leg as he went.

 

His grandfather led the way to the back of the mound to a point where they could see out over the valley. This will be a good place to eat. There were stones scattered about, but the surface was smooth and free of weeds and grass. His grandfather spread a blanket out and sat the basket of food on it and began removing its contents.

 

Weonu watched with anticipation. He was hungry and he knew his grandmother had packed a wonderful lunch for them to take on their Sunday outing. It had kimshi, and seaweed, and fried rice, and fruit, and sweet cakes. He was hungry. His grandfather rolled rice into one of the seaweed sheets and began to eat. Weonu watched the process trying to analyze each move. It was done completely with chopsticks and when completed the green seaweed sheet was folded into a little package to be thrust into the mouth. He always made a mess of it when he attempted the process, but he was determined to learn the technique.

 

"Did you learn to fight in there?" the Weonu ask nodding toward the training hall.

 

"Yes." he smiled "Between the time Japanese left and the Chinese came my father opened up the room again and taught me and your uncle.  Many men came around to see if my father would open the school again but he was too old and could not train more than the two of us.

 

They fell silent. His grandfather had come that day to visit the family grave site that day and was very serious. It was his grandmother’s idea for Weonu to come along and make it more of a holiday.

 

When they finished and had carefully placed the dishes back into the picnic basket, he ask his grandfather if he could go look around.

 

"Yes, but don't go far, stay away from the well and stay out of the gymnasium. I'm going to sit here in the sun for a moment. Weonu thought, "Humph Its time for his nap."

 

As he looked over his shoulder his grandfather yawned and stretched in the warm sunlight.

 

Weonu set about exploring the place.

 

The mound where the animals were kept had some bits of rusted metal tools but it was mostly grown over with weeds. There were bees flying around the yellow flowers on the weeds and he didn't want to disturb them. He had been stung before and he didn't want to repeat it.

Weonu looked at his grandfather sitting on the blanket. His grandfather’s back was toward him so he could not see him. Weonu walked up to the well and looked down into the darkness. He threw a stone in the well listening to hear a splash but there was only a clicking sound as it struck the bottom.   Again looking back toward his grandfather he walked up the steps and through the door of the training hall.

His master in the valley had told stories of the great fighters that had trained here. It was a large empty room with a smooth stone floor. The roof was gone except for the single beam running across the middle.

The sun light shown into the room lighting it clearly. As he walked out into the middle of the room he turned slowly to look at the walls of the great room. On each of the walls was a painting. They were somewhat scorched from the fire but were mostly untouched. The paintings were labeled.  As he turned he whispered the labels, “Jigu,

Gong Gi,

Bul,

and Su.  He thought, “Very pretty.” 

He looked out the doorway toward his grandfather. As he guessed, the old man was fast asleep.

Weonu faced one of the pictures. He stepped forward shadow boxing with three quick punches. "What a great place to practice, all this room, and no one watching, he thought. He went to Tae Kwon Do classes, but his master was always after him to practice more.

 

He thought, "I'll do the Poomse."  The Poomse was his practice pattern for his Keub.  He went to the center of the room, came to attention, then choonbe, then a high knife hand block to the left.

 

He was facing the picture of "Master. Jigu" The gold trim around the picture sparkled with wetness from dew. He looked at the eyes of the picture as he stepped forward with a spear hand. They were black and almost seem to follow his movements. Quickly he turned placing his foot silently on the floor has he blocked what would be an imaginary round kick from the direction of the picture of Master. Gong Gi. He stepped forward with the spear hand his eyes concentrating on the mouth of the figure. It was almost as if the lips drew tighter. He turned toward the picture of Master. Bul.  His Sparrow block was just in time to brush away in a lifting movement the imaginary punch.  He kicked and punched stepping forward.

The imaginary Master Bul seemed to fall backward, but the imaginary Master. Jigu was there again. He turned to ward off an imaginary roundhouse kick. He continued the pattern to the end and turned and bowed respectfully.  He sat down in the sun in the middle of the room to rest and catch his breath. The sun was warm and he closed his eyes as he rested.

"He is just as sloppy as his grandfather was at his age." came a clear voice in the room.

 

Weonu jumped to his feet with a start, "What? Where did you come from?

 

"We are always here," came a voice from behind him.

 

"This can't be," he thought... "These are the men from the paintings." He looked through the doorway to where his grandfather was sleeping and moved toward it. One of the men, Master Jigu stepped between him and the door.

 

"He can't help you!" he laughed. "He could have when he was younger but not now."

 

"You do the pattern, but do you know what it means." Master Jigu asks. Tell me what have you learned from your master? Why do you do the pattern?

 

Weonu stammered, "It’s healthy?"

 

"What is the matter don't you know," one of the others taunted.

 

Weonu continued trying to remember what he had been told by his master. "It allow you to practice by your self. It allows you to practice combinations.  It allows you to move with out mind stopping. It encourages a heighten sense of worth. It relieves stress.

 

"Do you know what any of that means or are you just acting like a parrot," Master Su asked.

 

Master Jigu thrust his finger forward pointing at him and said, "You should be loyal to your commitments and respectful in your relationships. You should be responsible for yourself. You should be pure in your motives. You should know the limits of your freedom, but you came here when your grandfather told you not to. These are all things you should learn from practice of your patterns. Tell us why we shouldn't let our beasts have you for supper." As he finished the large bear that was behind him growled and thrust his head forward twisting it to the right as if to open the mouth even wider that it was.

 

He swallowed, "I'm just a little boy

 

"He knows some of his lessons. Master Gong Gi whispered. He knows the patterns are a way to practice your art by yourself. He is learning to focus his techniques, develop muscular control and perform continuous sequences without tiring.

 

Master. Bul spoke. "Those are all mechanical things. There is little spirit in his movements." They all seemed to nod at this. Master BuI spoke again, this time to Weonu. "If you want out of here you have to prove your fighting spirit is good enough.

 

"Against all of you?" Weonu asked.

 

"If you remember the lessons of your pattern, you will do fine." Master Su said.

 

"He is a bit small. Lets see how he does against our pets," Master Su said

Weonu turned in his direction to be faced with a fluttering sound of the large white crane. As he turned around the room the men stepped back to the walls and in front of each was the beast of their picture. They seemed smaller than in the pictures, Cubs or at least yearlings.

 

"This can't be real," Weonu said

 

No more had he said it and the crane stepped forward pecking his arm causing him to jump in pain.

 

"Sejak! Master Jigu said in a loud voice. Unless you want to get pecked again."

  Master. Bul's pet was a dragon. Its hot breath could be felt at arms length. He continued with the pattern and blocked and chopped, but this was countered at the same instant with punches luckily the beast had short small arms. He kicked and punched. Again, the beast countered the same sort of technique. He remembered his master saying to counter a turning kick with another turning kick.

 

 

 

 "Ah," he thought, "he is using the fire method, I will have to chain two techniques together to get ahead of him." Weonu quickly struck outward with two sidekicks. The dragon grunted tilting his head upward as the kick smacked to the belly. The dragon fell backward in a lump. He would not have to deal with him for a while. 

 

He turned to face the big cat of Master Gong Gi that was moving on him. Again he blocked and struck with a spear hand. The tiger used the air method and stepped aside so his punches struck empty space. To get him he was going to have to strike where the animal was going to be not where he was.

 

  Weonu sensed a movement to his left. He turned to face the Bear. It swiped at him with its paw tearing the sleeve of his shirt and scrapping his arm. Weonu swung a hard knife hand block followed by a quick spear hand. Just as in the pattern he had done. Striking the bear was like punching into the ground, all of his energy seemed to be absorbed. At least he had made it back off.  He turned completely around to face the bear that was on his hind feet also. He struck the raised paw with a cobra block. He kicked.

To counter the heavy earth method of the bear he made the striking time long almost pushing. The bear fell back on his haunches, clearly stunned.

 

No more had he finished the sequence than the tiger raised on his back feet as if to pull him down. He wheeled around, blocked, kicked and blocked again. This time at least he struck him; he was beginning to know where the animal was going to be.   His air techniques won't work any longer. The tiger again slinked off a small space away.

  He turned to the rear blocking and chopping has he turned. He caught the crane just has he took a stride forward. The crane knew the water techniques well. As Weonu struck him he seemed to give and flow away. If he were to beat the crane, he would have to be faster and strike like an open hand slapping water. But the crane backed up at least four steps flapping its wings backward as he went.

 

 

He turned to the tiger once more but this time his strikes hit home. And then the bear again. It was the same with the bear. Both of the animals crawled back to the wall to lick their wounds.

 

Only the crane was left. He stepped out in a long stance again the crane seemed to flow away from his punches. The punches were too slow. He almost closed his eyes. He concentrated all his effort into the muscles of his arms. More speed was needed. He stepped out in another long stance with a block against the pecking of the bird followed by a double punch. There was a smack and a squawk by the bird.

 

"Hah, he learns quickly," Master Jigu said, "Perhaps we were to easy on him."

 

"Yes we need to do it again, but he is panting like an old man," Master Bul observed.

 

"Sit down in a meditation position and relax, Master. Su said. We will do it again in a minute with the pattern for the next higher belt. But for now close your eyes and breath

 

As Master Su said it Weonu watched the crane in back of him seem to grow in size. Each of the animals seemed to get larger. "Next time it was going to be more difficult," he thought. He closed his eyes.

 

"Wake up! His grandfather said shaking him. "You fell asleep."

 

He blinked and looked around the room. The men and their beasts had all returned to the wall. Or had they ever been out.

 

It was only a dream. His grandfather had told him the place was full of dreams.

 He stood up stiffly and followed his grandfather out of the building and down the stairs into the courtyard.

 

"Its time to go now. The taxi will be at road down at the bottom of the hill by the time we get down there.

 

The boy sensed a movement in the grass and quickly moved into a knife hand block. That same brown spider scampered from a clump of grass into a small bush.

 

"Ah you can feel the presence of a spider. If I need someone to fight off a spider I know who to come to." his grandfather laughed and handed him the empty picnic basket.

 

Weonu carried the picnic basket bumping against his leg as he walked. "Grandfather? Can I come back with you again some time?

 

His grandfather nodded.

 

As he walked he rubbed the sore spot on his arm. It was the spot where the crane had pecked him. He quickly looked at the torn sleeve and the scratched arm he had received from the bear.

 

It may have been a dream, but how did I get this bruise? May be it wasn't a dream may be it was ghosts of the old fighters," he thought

 

Weonu looked up as his grandfather as they walked down the steep trail. He wondered if he told the story if anyone would believe him. He decided not to say anything about and take the chance he would be laughed at.

 

He would wait until they came back again. In any case, next time he would be better.

 

 

QUESTIONS FOR THE YOUNG MARTIAL ARTIST

 

Why do you do the patterns?

How often to you practice at home?

What can you learn from practice of the patterns?

What do the patterns simulate?

Can you explain the connection between the patterns and sparring?

Do you know how to show energy (Ki) in your forms?

What did Weonu learn on his Sunday outing?

What do you think of Weonu?

For the Tae Kwon Do, Tae Guek patterns do you know their relationship to the

Korean Flag?

Do you know what the Tae Guek is?

Do you know what the four spirit fighters, Jigu, Gong Gi, Bul, and Su represent?

 

OTHER BOOKS TO READ

 

CHILDRENS BOOKS

“Facing the Double Edge Sword,” Terrence Webster-Doyle, Weatherhill Publishing,  IBSN 0834804654, 1999.  Also by the same author, “Why is Everybody Always Picking On Me”, “Breaking the Chains of the Ancient Warrior”, “Eye of the Hurricane” and “Maze of the Fire Dragon”.

 

“Black Belt”, Matt Faulkner,  Knopf Publishing, IBSN 037580157X

 

TAE KWON DO REFERENCE BOOKS

“Tae Kwon Do Techniques and Training,” Kyong Myong Lee, Sterling Publishing Co., Inc., New York 1996.  This book contains the forms through Third Dan and is a good reference.

 

“The Ultimate Reference Guide to the Worlds Most Popular Martial Art - TaeKown Do,” Yeon He Park, Yeon Hwan Park, Jon Gerrard. Facts On File, NY 1988, IBSN 0-8160-1521-X.

 

“Tae Kown Do - The Korean Martial Art,” Richard Chun, Harper & Row, NY, IBSN 0-06-010779-0