When I was training the Jeet Kune Do Concepts with Guro Dan Inosanto, in Los Angeles. (Who was the prodigy student of the late Bruce Lee). I remember a story that brought me to help have a deeper appreciation for all teachers and teachings.

He would say that sometimes some people when they are walking down the street they may look down on the footpath and see some smashed glass on the pavement and walk on by. What they didn’t realise, or they will never really know, is that the glass was actually diamonds. Then sometimes, someone may see something glitter in the corner of their eye, and they pick it up and their face lights up as they think they have found a precious diamond, but what they don’t realise is they are just holding a piece of glass.

It’s like once (guro said), after a class I asked my students so you want to learn the secret to martial arts? well, here it is. And I started drawing all of these different diagrams and various things on the whiteboard. I said if you can understand this, then you will know the secret to martial arts.
So all of the students ran out and grabbed their note pads and scribbled down everything that I had drawn on the board and were holding their notepads as if they were looking at a pot of gold. But what they didn’t realise is that all they were holding was just a piece of glass.

Guro would also bring this up nearly every year I went to his seminars:

Never be too afraid to learn

Never be too ignorant to learn

And I can see this within everything that Guro embraces.

So, I guess the real question is, how many times have you walked passed diamonds?

WHY ARE SOME TEACHERS BETTER THAN OTHERS?

This question has riddled me for many years. My perceptions have changed and matured over much thought and deliberation. The best way I can explain it is through some teachings I have had.

CAPOEIRA IN BELGIUM

I was sitting in a small cosy three storey apartment in the middle of Antwerpen, Belgium. My mestre and I were conversing into the night, with comfortable silences and treasured words. The black blanket of the night sky, refreshed me, as the cosy apartment gave me warmth. But it was deeper than that, it was my masters words, of what he said, and what he didn’t say, that kept me alive.

THE IMPORTANT QUESTION?

I asked my mestre after much deliberation and thought ‘ Mestre, sometimes when I enter into the roda, I play against someone who I know I am better than. I know that I can win against, I know that I have a greater skill than. Yet, at times, when it is the time to fight, I hesitate. It is in that moment, that my opponents ego takes over, and I can see it in their eyes, that their pride becomes greater than their skill. And, they beat me, with their ego and agressiveness. How can I learn how to not hesitate?

THE ANSWER

My mestre, who was sitting comfortably next to the window sill, stared out into the night sky. I could see the stars twinkling in his eyes. He breathed calmly, looking at me and then looking again out into the infinite sky.
And all he said was three words:
“Tem que superar”
You have to overcome.

MARTIAL ARTS WITH A DIFFERENCE

We rigourously held postures and repeated powerful techniques hundreds of times, I would sit in horse stance until my whole body hurt and sweat was dripping from every part of my body. Others would be doing their single movements they were working on, and do them repeatedly over and over, with slight re-adjustments time after time. Our instructor would now and again take his cigarette out of his mouth, and re-adjust your posture, or demonstrate how you should do a movement.

AFTER TRAINING

After an exhausting training session in a backyard, myself, a handful of students and our martial arts instructor went to a cafe. It was a crisp night, as we sat there in a polite awkwardness. Our instructor, was sitting there comfortably, with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. For the shear stature of the man, you wouldn’t really look at him twice, as an actual threat.

Nor would you have thought that he has more than likely killed and or maimed several people with his bear hands. It is only when you look into his eyes do you know that you are staring into a black abyss of destructive force. I gathered up all my courage, and began to ask him the question that I had asked my capoeira mestre before.

This instructor, took a sip of his whiskey, a puff on his cigarette, and looked into my soul with his dark grey eyes and without a waiver he said:

You hesitate, you die.

From both of these great men, I have learnt the most amazing lessons, from just these single conversations.
But what it made me understand most of all, was what it was that makes a good teacher.

THE REAL QUESTION

So let me now in turn ask you:

What makes a good teacher?

BAHIA vs. RIO

In 1982, Capoeira’s reputation between Bahia and Rio was at its peak. A master in Rio commissioned 20 of the best Capoeiristas of Rio to train relentlessly so that they could prove to Bahians that Capoeira from Rio, ‘Capoeira Carioca’ was better. They trained and went over to Salvador, going from club to club challenging and smashing everything they could in their path.

They went to an academy of a famous mestre named King-Kong, he played with them all because he was the only one in his academy at the time, apart from a few of his beginner students. King Kong tried to hold them, (which I am sure that he did), after they were finished they all hopped in a car and went on their way straight to Mestre Bamba’s academy. Mestre King Kong, battered and bruised rang up all the famous mestres of Bahia, and they went over to Mestre bamba’s academy for the showdown.

As soon as they got to Mestre Bamba’s academy he saw them and went to the kitchen. He found some olive oil and rubbed it all over his body and came out and played them all. Because the Capoeira carioca guys would also use jiujitsu, they were finding the upperhand on some of the other masters. However when they went to grab Mestre Bamba they couldn’t because of the oil. That day they held their own and gained the respect from the group they called the ‘circo voador’.

BEING A CAPOEIRISTA

It was the night of the event. Tension was running high. The night bloomed with stars and the sky was filled with fluttering colourful flags and twinkling lights. It seemed like another day in the pelourinho, but it was not. Tonight began the week of events that were to come. Workshops with Mestre Itapoan, King Kong, Curio, Dinho, Gildo Afinete and many more. Rodas in the mercado modelo, in the pelourinho, within the forte da capoeira on the hill of Santo Antonio. And a batizado to finish with over 30 Mestres attending.

It seems oddly in place, the muscle bound capoeiristas sitting awkwardly amongst the aisles of this golden church. The holy white walls and golden decorations blended in with the white uniform the capoeiristas were wearing.
Traditionally dressed bahian women with their fat frumpy frocks, glistening ornately. The small chuckle or two and the cheeky capoeirista whispering, the mass begins.

The procession was like any other, but the priest did leave a great impression on me, just before we began to have a roda inside the church, (which was surreal I can tell you).

The preist began to tell everyone, to seemingly deaf ears for most, something that gave me a huge insight into my own journey.

Whether we are a priest, a labourer, an engineer, a child, or a farmer we all aspire for one thing. It is this one thing that binds us, that binds humanity and in turn it completes us and makes us whole. Whether we are an artist, a sportsman a capoeirista, it does not matter, we all are connected. This connection lies in being human. ‘Ser Humano’. To be human, is the essence of life. To strive to be human, to help and to understand humanity- that is everyones truth.
To live and breath a human life.
Too many people try and work away from this,
but to be human should be celebrated not shunned.

We are beautiful because of our humanity.

Everywhere I walk, beautiful butterflies to guide me.   Peace and energy glows from this place, sourrounded by mountains and beatiful vistas.  Birds chirp vigorously, crickets click rhythmically and the serenity of the wind cools troubled thoughts.  We decide to go on a track alone once again, this time to another waterfall towards the west.  We leave in the morning to give us heaps of time to meander around and soak up the beauty.  Instantly our paths are forked as tracks start to split off onto more tracks and others onto yet more. 

Luckily we picked up a random dog on the way which we proceded to call umbu  for no apparent reason.  We decided that we would use the dog as a guide to lead us through the tretcherous forests of brasil.  I dwardled behind the pack, filming the butterflies  that would sweep my path.  All the different colours of the rainbow would fly in and out of my view, each one more beautiful than the next. The group of boys eventually dissappeared into the distance, as I was left with my thoughts and the beautiful serenity that surrounds.  The next path that I chose to go down would determine one of the most unbelievable adventures of my life.

The path I chose veered off to the left up and over a mountain and down onto a flat plane before reaching a vista of a small valley with a beautiful river.  I had been walking at a steady pace for about an hour now, realising that I had chosen a path that the boys had not.  I did not mind as I had ample time to descover what lied in front of me.  As I went down this sandy path, the path seemed to split and divide into many paths, with none really more apparent than the next.  I chose to go straight forward and tried as hard as I could to remember  which way i went for the journey home.  The more the paths split the more I realised that my journey was to be a little more interesting than I expected.

now and again, butterflies would fly in front of me, which would give me inspiration to keep going forward.  Then out in the middle of nowhere, I saw a couple of footprints.  Who could be walking out here along this track with bare feet?  There were no shoe prints to be found anywhere along this track, but every now and again, footprints would appear and the occasional lime peel dropped next to it.  These footprints gave me hope that the track I was following was at least followed by someone else in the past.  So I ventured forward. I eventually reached this beautiful river  with huge brown boulders and rocks scattered miscellaneously everywhere, and a redish yellowish water trickling down between the rocks.  small waterfalls were spontaneously scattered everywhere along its path making the most beautiful sound.  Dragonflies were buzzing, the butterflies would whisp in and out of view and the occasional rock spider would  run across the water.

I thought that I would take a chance and follow the river, go off track and see whether I could find the waterfall that the boys were looking for so that I could meet them there.  I slowly jumped from rock to rock, exploring the beautiful rock pools and the amazing energy of the place.  I had been away from the boys for well over two hours now, and slowly but surely making my way down this river.  I saw a beautiful spring and some lovely untouched natural forest  that engulfed me.  Many thoughts were going through my head, trying to utilise the  time in finding strength and meaning for my upcoming batizado.  I found so many similarities in the path that I was taking in what I was about to face in my grading.  From choosing the path less travelled, to deciding which rock to jump to next, my mind went through an amazing maze of  possibilities. I remembered the first time I started capoeira, to all of the many difficulties I had, to the many joyous moments.  I remenised on some of the highlights of my life, and the various people that had made it possible for me to be here.  All of you were in my thoughts along this beautiful journey.

It was around two oclock when  I reached a beautiful waterfall about six metres high.  All of the previous waterfalls were small and going in various directions.  This waterfall appeared to be crying golden water.  It was beautiful!, the roar of its power mixed with its absolute beauty and peace seemed to settle all of the polemic ideals in my life.  I went and bathed myself under its power.  Like a massage it took away all of the aches and pains of the past and refreshed my body and mind.  The sun had taken its toll as its heat beat down apon me with no remorse.  I had packed some apples and cashew nuts as well as some small bread buns which kept me tight.  I was running out of water though, as I only had half a bottle left, I tried to conserve it and be sensible about rationalizing. ??I had been walking for close to four hours now without sign of the boys.  My original plan was to find the waterfall and then find a track from there to lead me back to the  town.  I could not see any tracks from this waterfall which suprised me because of how beautiful it was.  I thought that everyone would have wanted to see this waterfall.  I had the choice of going forward to see if I could find any other waterfalls or whether to go back and find the path that I took to get here to go home.  I knew that there was a higher purpose for me to be where I was, I felt bambas presence in me, in where I was and what I was doing. 

All that went through my mind with every jump to another rock, was his voice saying ´you have to take risks´ because in life, if you dont risk you will never find your potential, you will never find what you are looking for.  He always said to me that everyone has potential, everyone has a greatness inside of them, but the difference between great people and everyone else is how they handle fear, how they handle risks, how they utilise the greatness that is within.  So I went forward. Knowing that very few people if any would have risked the path that I had chosen. ??It was coming close to three thirty and still no sign of any other waterfalls.  Every corner I went to, it would seem that just up ahead there was potential to be another waterfall. 

I could hear its voice but whenever I went to meet it, it was just another small waterfall leading into a series of other small waterfalls.  Indonesan nathans family song kept going through my head, which basically said in life you must always try to go forward and never go backwards, So I drove on, fighting time, fighting the thirst, fighting the sun.  In hope of a way home.  As it reached four oclock, I was clouded more and more with doubt,  the track was getting harder and harder to follow, as I was having to off cut the river sometimes and go up the sides through the trees and scrub, through the  spiderwebs and thorns to be able to pass some of the sides. ??As I was about to walk back, there in the middle of no where, four hours away, I saw a single footprint.  I had to go on.  i knew that there was more meaning in my journey.  As I went around the corner coming closer to rock climbing as the river started to cliff off, I eventually met my fate. 

There was no possible way to go forward anymore.  The cliffs were too high, the river dark  and dangerous, and the bush too dense.  It was in that moment I realised that sometimes to go forward, you must go backward.  I had been walking for almost six hours now, with about a quarter of a bottle of water left, I had no choice but to find another path home on the way back.  I knew that there was no possible way to make it back the way I came before dark.  I was certain of the choice I had made  to go back though, it was as if the river had told me where my limits were.  I had reached my potential and accepted it so that I could move forward. ??it was reaching five oclock now, knowing full well that it would reach dark by six.  On the way back I found that the river actually split into two, and a fork was infront of me.  Was I to follow the path that I was on, or should i risk following a new  path in the hope of finding a track, or possibly the waterfall that they boys would have gone to?   I went down the new path, running across the rocks, uncertain in where I was going and what I was doing.  I went up this beautiful path, into the denser parts of the forest. 

The sun was getting lower, casting beautiful shadows apon the rocks, with birds chirping and the sound of running water always in view.  The rock spiders were coming out, as it was getting darker, so many times I almost put my hand on them, as they blended in with the rocks, some were bigger than my hand, and I was starting to think about where I would sleep if I had to spend the night in the forest.  The river just kept going further up and up, deeper and deeper into the forest, with no apparent end.  I knew my fate was inevitable as I accepted that I had to go back. ??It was getting late, and I was trying to think of what I was about to face if I was to spend the night alone in this forest.  I finally reached the original river I was on, and started to follow it back up.  I knew that it was going to take me at least another two hours to get back to the original path I was on, and then another two to get home, by then it would be well dark and I would not be able to see anything.  I kept pushing forward, beginning to feel how dehydrated I really was, my legs burning and body exhausted from the amount of rock climbing and jumping I had been doing.

I reached the golden waterfall and saw a small clearing to its side I had not seen before.  Could it be a path?  it was small and dense with scrub, but I decided to take the chance.  I treached up the hill following this small dirt track, through the thorns and webs, and dense plants.  The more I followed this path, the more certain I was that it was an actual track.  I had lost complete orientation of where I was.  As I had been following this river that had been bending and twisting so I had no idea in which way to go.  The path eventually reached a point in where I had to choose left or right.  I went left, walking as fast as I could down this unknown track.  I started to hear the sound of a waterfall,  as I looked over the trees, I could see a massive waterfall that ran down a huge rocky terrain.  I couldnt beleive it! it was the waterfall I had been searching for!   it was five thirty and getting dark, I had no time to go and see it,  I figured that I was going the wrong way if I was going towards the waterfall, so I ran back along the path in whence I came.  The path however, started to go down more and more, and I realised that it was just going back to the river.  I ran back again, hoping to find another track on the way to the waterfall.  I found another three,  I was completely lost. Through trial and error, I finally reached a familiar ground.  I had found the track, and it was six oclock on the dot. 

The biggest smile eminated from my face, as it was getting quite dark , I knew that the adventure that I had taken was fate.  I had found my way home, I had found what I was looking for and so much more. I can tell you one thing, you havent experienced anything until you have been lost in a brazilian forest.