The Beat of my own Drum

I’ve written about taiko here several times over the last three years.  I’ve listened to it whenever I got the chance, dragging whomever I could along with me, because it’s just too good not to share.  I took my first lesson the better part of three years ago, shortly after hearing it for the first time, but it wasn't until the end of last November that I was able to really get started.

You’re finally hearing about it now, at the end of all things, because studying taiko is the reason I was still puttering around Yokohama, a week and a half after school wrapped up for the year.  But let me back up for a minute.  I discovered my taiko studio, Hougaku Academy, a year ago, right before leaving for the summer.  (If you're thinking that was about the time we went to see Drum Tao, you're not wrong!)  I swore to myself that I’d start lessons as soon as I got back in August, and in fact, I did go to a trial lesson at the end of that month, but it was hot and I was being awkward about my crippling lack of Japanese and basically it took me til November to get my shit together.

Here’s a life lesson for you, although I’ve lost track of which number I’m up to.  It really is better late than never.  In retrospect, I wish I’d kept going right after that very first lesson.  Would I have liked to learn more?  Kashiko mari masu.*  But the things I DID learn, the time that I did get, was priceless, to the degree that I think saying goodbye to everyone a week ago was the hardest thing to do this go-round.**

Photo courtesy of Sensei, who says, "I really like this you!"

That is not to say that learning taiko has been easy.  I’ve made no secret about the fact that my feet suck.  The stance you use when drumming definitely doesn’t help.  The best day for them to teach a stray gaijin turned out to be Wednesday, which of COURSE has been my hardest teaching day ever since coming to Japan.  Then there’s the language gap.  My teacher ganbatte’d his heart out, and every week he was better than the week before.  He put my Japanese ability - which, having been picked up (as you know) primarily by watching anime, is more or less worthless - to utter shame, but there were still times when I struggled to figure out what he was trying to tell me.  And while I like to think I made up for a lot of what I lacked with my enthusiasm, it wasn’t quite enough to cover my complete uncoordination.  Even on Sunday my arms still didn’t do 100% of what they were supposed to.

Something else I should probably mention, although it wasn’t a challenge so much as something I found interesting, is the fact that I was the only beginner in my class.  While my senpais were drilling with our other teacher, Shima-san was teaching me the basics at the back of the room.  Most of the time, the fact that 12 or so drums were playing something different really loudly in a relatively small studio didn’t make any kind of difference to what I was learning.  When it DID make a difference, it was usually because what they were doing was so cool that I couldn’t help getting caught up in it, and wishing I was already at their level, so I could play, too.

Now, from the start I knew there was going to be a performance on July 7.  I had my doubts that I’d be able to participate, though, because it felt like I was pretty slow going, especially at first.  I probably should have spent more time practicing.  In my defense, I found it hard to practice without an instrument.  It took me until about a month ago to realize that this was actually an advantage, and that as long as I didn’t mind looking like an idiot I could literally practice anywhere - walking down the street, say, or during my super-stinky hour-long lunch duty.  But gradually I learned all the rhythms I needed, and just before spring break Shima-san showed me how they were strung together to create a full piece of music.  And I honestly couldn’t think of any better note on which to leave Japan.

So I kept going.  There were days when I didn't really want to, days when the kids had worn me down or my feet were killing me, but most of those I went anyway.  Because at the end of the day, I needed it.  Apart from being fun and a good workout, I'm pretty sure taiko's responsible for keeping me sane these last six months.  It was therapeutic as hell to be able to beat the shit out of the drum after a long day of back talking children and baka administrators.  (The 6th rhythm of the first lesson is, in my opinion, best for stress relief.)

Once I'd learned everything, the uniform was actually the biggest hassle.  Mostly this is my fault for not doing anything over the last two years about my marshmallowey shape, but I DID struggle to get tabi.  Those split-toed shoes are a part of the uniform for taiko, and although my classmate told me where I could buy them in Kawasaki, I still couldn't seem to find them, so I went online and located a boutique in Omotesando that sells them, Sou Sou.  They ended up being kind of expensive, but the staff were really helpful and I was able to try them on so I could be sure that they fit.  Also, the soles have hiragana on them, so, you know, totally worth it.

In spite of all the words I've used, in this post and others, I'm still not sure I'm doing taiko any justice.  In the end, I don't really think words can.  Until you feel the beat hit you in the chest, reverberate through your lungs, shift your heartbeat, I don't think what I'm saying will make sense to you.  But the day before our performance, I met one of the women I'd be performing with for the first time.  She asked me how long I'd been playing, and it was the same length of time as her, and when we tried to explain to one another why we were studying taiko, it boiled down to the same thing.  As she put it, "It's my soul music."  I couldn't agree more.

*Certainly.

**I mean, other than packing and cleaning, which I only finished a few hours before my ride came to take me to the airport.

***Video of Hatsune by my senpai, Sekine-san.