Rini

Jasmine Chang reminisces about an old friend

Hello all, Jasmine Chang here. To describe myself, I'm a 5'6" Japanese-American woman with what I think is a sufficiently athletic build, and short black hair. I have a wide variety of interests, and this had presented a unique problem in college as far as choosing a major. But you don't want to hear about that, do you? Like everybody else, you want me to talk about fighting and my fighting skills. Sigh. Very well, let me begin.

Though a good bulk of my family is of Japanese heritage, about half of them practice the Korean martial art of Tae Kwon Do along with the more native discipline of Karate. In the old days of the orient, martial art skills were handed down from family members. My family still kept that tradition alive, we just increased the variety. Tae Kwon Do was the art my family and siblings practiced until it came to me. Why? Because I'm "different."

If you talked to my sister Kim, who is the closest sibling to me in age and friendship, she'll say I'm "gifted." I really don't like that word. How I am "gifted" is I have a unique physical memory. In other words, if you performed a fancy dance step, or some type of sophisticated physical movement, I could repeat that movement mirror-perfect. This really comes in handy when you're in a fight. Not only could you repeat your opponent's technique (if it was worth repeating), you could also use a technique you've seen someone else do in person, or even on video or TV. It made me a hard person to beat.

Now before I go on, let me bore you with the subject of intelligence for a moment. If you're a strong believer in the traditional IQ tests, you may want to skip this part. If you're a skeptic of those tests, or you really don't believe in IQ tests at all, you may find this interesting. Years ago, a psychologist by the name of Howard Gardner presented the theory that human beings have a least seven different types of intelligence, instead of the two types that the standard IQ test gave you. What all this has to do with me is my brain is wired in the Body-Kinesthetic area, which has to do with muscular coordination, movement, and doing. I just tend to have a big helping of that, along with enough of the other categories to keep me out of trouble. I'll leave it to you to look up the subject of multiple intelligences yourself. Because of this "gift," I was given the name "Xerox," along with a few others, because of my ability to copy physical moves. This also made me the "rebel" in that I didn't want to do tae kwon do or karate because it was too easy for me.

Maybe not a rebel, because my family understood. They also shooed away instructors from various dojos of various disciplines who were looking for a star student to make their school and themselves look good. In the end, it was an instructor in the disciplines of Aikido and Tai Chi who drew my attention, because both martial arts were more difficult than they look, and they were deceivingly effective. As an instructor in the two, there are still some moves in both that I sometimes have trouble with. Kim, who is now a tae kwon do instructor and runs her own accounting business (she always did have a way with numbers), and Love Story Chang, or LS, a cousin from the Chinese part of my family, who was a black belt in judo, and ran her own dojo (she was a family "rebel" herself; her family also did tae kwon do), both had trouble seeing my disciplines as effective until they saw me in action one time.

But despite this introduction about myself, this story isn't about me. It's tempting to think those who are masters in the fighting arts are self-sufficient. Not so, even with so-called prodigies like myself. I had two role models when I was learning the two disciplines I practice today. One was my sensei of course; the other was a fellow student by the name of Rini. This story is about her.

Rini was a Filipino woman who stood the same height as I, give or take a half-inch, and carried the same build. She had shiny black hair that went midway down her back, a beautiful smile that brightened up a room, and the filthiest feet I have ever seen. You see, Rini very rarely if ever wore shoes. She'll wear socks from time to time, but nothing else, not even flip-flops touched her feet. She told me about her senior prom at one time, showing me pictures of her in her blue prom dress; and then before I could ask her, she shown me a picture of her hiking up her dress, and showing off her blue hose with no footwear attached.

If you know the people I hang around, my friends, and some members of my family, you'd notice that they seem to have an allergy to wearing something on their feet outside of skin, while I seem to be the only woman who knows what shoes were made for (yet their boyfriends wear shoes, interesting). Two of my friends, Janelle and Betty, call me their "token tenderfoot" because of this normal thing I do. If I was a polytheist, I would say that the gods are punishing me by placing me among shoeless women, but I'm a monotheist, thank God (that's okay, you'll get the point later. If not, look it up).

Anyway, aside from a few select occasions, like weddings and funerals, she boasted that she went shoeless all through high school and college. We went to different schools, but I didn't doubt it. But whenever I run into another barefooter, I blame her.

Another thing about Rini is she was a martial arts junkie. She helped fuel my enthusiasm for the martial arts. She was like a walking encyclopedia of information on the subject, even knowing those obscure arts you wouldn't know unless you lived in that art's country of origin.

Finally, I get a lot of admiration and compliments because I know two martial arts, tai chi and aikido. Rini knew four. First, she learned the marital art of her ancestral country, Escrima (she was third generation American). She told me a story about a couple of thugs who pulled out their switchblades and demanded money. Rini pulled out her escrima sticks which were much longer. The two thugs retreated slowly. Second, she was learning the same two arts I was learning at the time, and third, she knew the Chinese kung fu discipline of Chin Na. In Chin Na, you capture your opponent by seizing a certain joint, and gaining total control. It's a little similar to aikido in that way. I asked her why learn these four arts, and she said she loved it. She also wanted to create a type of "force field" around herself, so if a bad guy ever so much as lay a hand on her, he or she would be repelled.

I laughed because this woman with her calm, easygoing manner had no enemies to speak of, and she already knew how to play a drum solo on somebody's head with two long sticks, and sending a sumo wrestler to his knees by grabbing his thumb. What more did she need?

During the time it took for the two of us to receive our black belts in aikido (tai chi has no belt system), we became good friends. We would visit each other's households. Rini's family practically adopted me as one of their own, while Rini was a big hit with my family. She was an influence as well. Before they met Rini, Kim and LS only went barefoot half the time, and that was while it was warm outside. After they met Rini, they started going shoeless almost all the time, year-round (as I said before, I blame her for this). In our first two years of college, we'd come home and hang out. One thing we had in common was watching detective shows, specifically the shows where they used their brain more than their gun.

During my sophomore year, we had some special occasion that gave us a three or four-day weekend, so I drove over to Rini's school, a community college not far from home, to visit. We were watching a new mystery show on TV in her dorm room, racking our brains out trying to find out who did it (the murder) when the phone rang. As Rini answered it, her usual cheerful demeanor faded as she was told the news. She hung up the phone and slid a tape in the VCR.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"It's my sister," Rini replied.

Despite my remarks about being a rebel, we were what you would call good kids. We did our homework, went to church every Sunday, honored our parents, and aside from Kim, LS, and myself fighting on the streets regularly (more on that later), we were pretty decent. Rini's sister Debi was another story.

Debi was a few years older than Rini, and she would tend to do the exact opposite of what a moral older sister would do. She'd party all night, sleep all day, and spend her time hanging with the "in" crowd. She attended the same school that Rini did, but the similarities were in looks and name only. We considered it a small miracle that she graduated college. Her big weakness was men. She never picked the good ones, it was always the "bad boys" she flipped over. She'd usually end up getting burned, but that didn't stop her.

Rini told me one of Debi's latest flames wanted to take their relationship further. Debi for once had the good sense in this case to say no; however this guy wouldn't take no for an answer. Instead, he took her someplace where he and the boys, i.e. the gang he hung around, would show her how to have a good time. Now you don't have to be a detective to know that didn't sound good, especially for Debi.

While Rini was telling me this, she opened her closet, and pulled out an unusual looking holster, then strapped it around her waist. It was to hold her escrima sticks. When she needed them, she could reach behind her and pull them out. She designed the holster herself. She looked at her outfit, which consisted of a white sleeveless blouse and red shorts. Upon a moment's notice, she put on a pair of blue jean shorts.

She looked at me and said, "Jas, you're welcome to make yourself at home; my place is your place. I'm going to get my sister."

"Let me go with you," I asked.

"There's no need to involve yourself, it's a family matter."

"But I'm practically family already. I used to do this type of stuff all the time, remember? Let me back you up," I said.

For a time before Kim and I left town for college, the two of us along with LS were the self-proclaimed "Guardians of the Street." Our neighborhood was a little rough, with bullies and gangs. We three took it upon ourselves to watch over the neighborhood when the police wasn't available. And yes, that led to getting into a number of fights, but it gave the three of us a chance to fine-tune our fighting skills. Kim became excellent with her tae kwon do skills, while my cousin at 5'2" has been considered by some people as the most dangerous woman on the planet with her judo skills. Thugs have been known to run across the street when she appeared. Anyway, all good things had to come to an end as we decided to pursue other things in life, like our own futures.

"Okay, you can be my back-up," Rini said.

"Where are we heading?" I asked.

"The Thirsty Puppy," Rini replied with a sigh.

"The where?"

As Rini drove us to our destination, she talked about other things, like who she thought committed that murder on that TV show. I disagreed, but she seemed to have a real talent for guessing the right culprit. I asked her who made the call. She told me it was a friend of hers who was there when the ex-boyfriend dragged Debi off.

"That's interesting; out of all her siblings, her friends, family, or the police, she called you," I said. "You and Debi don't even get along that well."

"She called me because I'll take care of it," she said calmly.

"You're pretty confident."

"My sensei in escrima once told me if you're going to go into a battle, go believing you can win."

"Really?"

"When you and Kim and LS cleaned up the streets, you didn't consider the possibility of losing, did you?"

"No, but then I had my sister and cousin to back me up in case I failed," I replied.

"There comes a time where there's a battle to fight, and it's just you. Jasmine, someone on your skill level should be confident, should be calm; mainly because you really have no choice."

Back in those days on the street, I was calm. There were also other factors like it was my neighborhood that I knew like the back of my hand. I knew many of the people we fought the same way. But this time, we were headed to a place we never been before, to take on Debi's boyfriend who neither of us have met, and who knows how many others. So I was a little nervous as we went to this dive.

And what a dive it was, too. I expected Debi to at least have better taste. The bar was on its last legs. If Central Indiana had one good earthquake, this place would be dust in no time. That was also another thing different from what my trio did; we didn't go into bars. One, we were underage at the time, two, we didn't drink, and three, we figured if the attendees wanted to kill themselves while they were in there, we wouldn't stand in their way.

Rini had never been in this place either, but you couldn't tell from the way she walked toward the front door. She did pause long enough to notice the "No Shoes, No Shirt, No Service" sign.

"It's a good thing I decided to wear a shirt," she smirked, and then opened the door.

I was wearing a royal blue jogging suit, but I was afraid the cloud or rather fog of cigarette smoke would be permanently locked in the material. My new tennis shoes were already sticking to the floor. Did they ever clean this place?

We located Debi; she was sitting forcibly on her boyfriend's lap, surrounded by four other men. There were a few other people, mainly men, sitting at other tables scattered throughout the place. The women there looked like they had nowhere else to go. One of Debi's boyfriend's friends first noticed Rini, more specifically Rini's feet.

"Ma'am, did you lose something?" He said, laughing.

"Nope, I found something instead. I came for my sister," Rini said, calmly.

"Oh, this is your sister, Debi? She's cute! No wonder you hardly talk about her," Debi's boyfriend (John, I found out later) said.

Debi said nothing. She was visibly shaking.

"Debi, come with us, and let's get out of here," Rini said.

John had the nerve to proposition her. "So what are you willing to do to get your sister back?" He said.

"I will get my sister back. Just let her go now with no incident," Rini replied, giving a sigh over this whole mess.

John nodded to the closest guy to Rini, who was planning to scare her a little. He started to pull out a gun from the back of his pants. To say Rini quickly pulled out her escrima stick would not do it justice. It was more like the stick magically appeared. A flick of the wrist smashed the first man's gun hand. The Saturday night special fell to the floor, lost among whatever was down there, followed by the first man on his knees holding his fingers.

The second man drew a switchblade. Escrima sticks are made of a hard wood, even further hardened by burning and various types of conditioning. Rini drew her other stick, swinging it toward the blade. The blade broke on impact. Rini wasn't done yet. While the man stared in shock at his broken blade, she took the stick she broke the blade with and somehow entwined it with his knife arm; then she bent him over a table, his nose hitting the green felt top while his right arm was bent behind him in a painful armlock.

Placing her other stick back into her holster, Rini said, "I don't have time for this. Please let my sister go." To punctuate her point, she cranked up the pressure on the man's arm with the escrima stick.

In response, man number three ran toward her to rescue his friend. He laid one hand on Rini, which was his first mistake. With her free hand, she grabbed and held the man's hand like one would on a date; then she quickly grasped the area around the thumb and quickly twisted with a flick of the wrist. He slumped to the ground whimpering beside the man with the injured hand. His second mistake was resorting to using profanity and calling Rini names that are better left unrepeated. Rini always considered profanity a sign of weakness and the first response of the feeble-minded and illiterate. A person should speak to another person respectfully or not at all. Made sense to me. After a few moments of mind-numbing pain, it finally made sense to the man as well.

So in the space of barely two minutes, Rini had one man bent over a pool table, another man at her feet, and a third sitting on the floor wondering if he'll be able to play the piano again. And she hasn't hit anyone in the face yet.

Man number four saw that Rini literally had her hands full, and saw that as an opportunity to attack. He strode over taking his time.

"You can't get me if you're hanging on to those two," he said, smiling. "Looks like you'll have to let go of somebody, sweetheart."

Rini smiled until he came into range, then slammed the ball of her right foot into the side of his right knee. She told me later she pulled her kick, lest he'd be crippled for life. He pitched, then fell forward, landing at my friend's feet. She promptly picked up her right foot and slammed it down on his head, pinning him to the floor. It was rather disgusting for him, I'm sure; not because of Rini pinning his head down with her bare foot, but the fact that whatever it was on the barroom floor was also on her foot, so he got it from both sides.

"Nope, I still have a foot left," Rini replied. "Now release my sister ' now."

Now where was I during all this? I was standing back enjoying the show. It was exciting watching Rini in action. It reminded me of a similar situation LS was in, except LS wasn't so nice. I think one of the victims still had a noticeable limp. I was so engrossed in what was going on, I left myself unguarded, for someone yanked my hair from behind. Though the pull on my hair hurt, I was more frustrated that someone got me from behind. In all the fights I've had on the streets of my hometown and elsewhere, the one time I get ambushed happened when I was watching someone else fight.

Anyway, I wasn't concerned about the problem, because aikido had the solution. Instead of fighting it, I go along with the pull, placing one of my hands on my attacker's hand. As they kept pulling, I turn my head. As my head turned, so did my hand, turning his hand in a direction it didn't want to go. The man squealed, released his grip, where I converted the hold into a throw, still hanging on to his arm, and leaving him on his back afraid to move, lest he wanted a broken arm or wrist.

I thought that would be it for me, leaving me free to watch Rini some more when another man suddenly ran up to me on my blind side, placed one hand on my waist, and placed the other hand or rather tried to put it in my hair (what was it about my hair?). This time, I was ready. I grabbed the wrist he was going to pull my hair with, and twisted. Suddenly, this 6'3" burly man was standing up on his tiptoes dancing around trying to get free. To do this, I had to release my hold on the first guy, but that was no problem because I threw the second guy on top of him.

During the last encounter, I sneaked a peek a Rini, who was advancing on John, while he was using her sister as a human shield as he tried to back near a rear exit. One of his friends tried to sneak up on her from behind, but Rini without looking, flung a left backfist that smashed into his face and propelled him over a table. I could take this time to explain how when learning aikido you learn how to sense other attackers and such, but it would take too long to explain; besides, I just embarrassed myself when someone sneaked up on me earlier. Nobody's perfect.

Anyway, I turned back to what I was doing just in time to see yet another man attacking me. Unlike the last two, this one decided to try something new, and throw a kick at me. He was a long, skinny fellow, and his kick would've hit me in the face if it landed. One of the best things I like about aikido is even though there are only twenty to fifty basic moves, the number of applications are endless. The founder of aikido got as far as 2,884, but he might have had a bad day when he reached that number. Aikido practitioners are still coming up with new applications of the art. There was one story of one aikido master in Thailand who was challenged by a kickboxer. Aikido as a general rule doesn't teach kicks or normally any defenses against them to prevent injury to the kicker. Yet this man was able to defeat the kickboxer with no problem. What I'm trying to say in so many words is the number of applications in aikido is only limited by our imagination.

The case in point was this man throwing a kick. He must've had some martial arts training because it was a nice kick. I quickly thought what I've done before was working so far, so why not try it here. I caught the man's foot, and twisted it, not enough to break it, but enough to send him to the floor.

I've preformed my moves easy enough, but due to the sticky nature of the floor, it was like dancing in quicksand. Aikido has no kicks, but it has a lot of footwork. As another man ran towards me, I decided to switch to tai chi to apply some offense for a while. The next few minutes seemed like a blur. I'd apply a tai chi strike here, an aikido throw there, and a tai chi kick someplace, and the attackers kept coming. It felt like I was attacking the whole bar. After the smoke cleared and my opponents lay on the floor, I found out that I did. I looked out at the tables, and I saw no one except the women, who gave me some light applause for what I did. None of them bothered Rini, so they figured they would attack me instead, I guess for something to do. For why they avoided Rini, it must be the sticks, they can be a little intimidating.

There was only three people now who were still performing in this show; Rini, Debi, and John. Rini was stalking John around the bar, but John still kept Debi in front of him. Debi was becoming less scared and more annoyed.

"Let me go, John!" Debi said.

"And let your pet pit bull come after me with those sticks? No way!" John replied.

Chances are if John just let Debi go the first or second time Rini asked, everything would have been fine. But from the look on Rini's face at that moment, it looked like someone was going to be beaten; the only question was how severe. With Debi in front of him, John had a stay of execution.

I was going to intervene when Debi then had the state of mind to do something about it. She stamped the heel of her shoe on the toes of John's foot. John hopped on one foot, reaching for his sneaker when he discovered that Debi was gone, and the only thing separating him and her angry younger sister was air. He quickly scooted a nearby chair between them, which to his credit was a good move, for the palm strike Rini thrown could've took his head off. With a hint of annoyance, Rini knocked the chair out of the way, narrowly missing on of John's friends. They wisely decided this was John's battle, not theirs. They weren't going to get hurt for nothing.

John saw his golden opportunity for escape when he saw the front exit in front of him and started to take it. However, he didn't take into account Rini's speed. That's nothing unusual, no one else does either. Rini is one of those people who can rush, yet look like she's standing still. So suddenly, Rini was blocking John's path to freedom. I went to Debi, asked if she was all right, and then sat down on a clean chair to watch (without interruption) how this drama would end. I already knew, but I still wanted to watch.

John pulled himself up like a rooster preparing to fight, and started talking smack to Rini. I believe the edited version went like this:

"So you want to fight, huh _____? Well come on then, _____, I'll kick your ___ out of here. You picked the wrong day to ____ with me, _____!"

I think it was easy to assume that John didn't have a college education. And his "flowery" speech did not help his cause any. Rini didn't have a reply. She didn't want to waste her energy giving one. Instead, she watched her prey like a cat watching a bird. The bar was silent.

After being unnerved by her stare down, John threw a punch at Rini. Using a chin na move, Rini grabbed his arm and pushed it up and back, slamming his back on a nearby table. John was momentarily stunned, but his street training prompted him to reach into his back pocket with his other arm.

Debi said, "Look out Rini! He has . . . a . . . knife."

Before John could even flick his switchblade open, Rini had an escrima stick at his throat. She pressed it slowly, leaving John enough time to deliver a gulp. Sure he could've moved the blade and stabbed Rini in the side, but could he do it before he had a crushed windpipe? Rini could recover from a stab wound to the side, but that pales in comparison to losing the ability to breathe.

Rini moved her face down to about a half a foot away from John's. Again, she didn't say anything like a taunt, a question, a threat, or one of those ominous questions, like would he like to see God. She just bore her gaze directly into his eyes. John was not too slow on the uptake as he slowly opened his hand, and let the knife fall to the floor. She nodded her head slightly in agreement.

She stared at him for another minute, then let him up slowly. When he was fully upright, Rini pointed her escrima stick in the direction of the exit, and said, "Go."

And John went, too, without looking back, no remarks, not even an acknowledgement to his friends. He rushed out the door happy to be alive. Rini then turned to his friends and started to say the same thing, but his friends had the idea, and rushed out before she could point her stick. Finally, she turned to Debi and I, and said, "Let's go."

Some of you may ask what the bartender was doing while all this was going on. Well, he was watching the whole thing. He was apparently used to seeing fights break out at this place all the time. Maybe that's why he never cleaned the floor. Anyway, the three of us went out the door when he called out to us in a friendly voice, "Come back anytime." I guess he liked watching us fight. Debi turned around to give a less than friendly response, but we turned her back around.

On the way to the car, Rini saw a puddle of water in the parking lot, and deliberately stepped in it with both feet. Even she couldn't stand to have that muck on her feet.

Debi asked to be dropped off at her dorm. As we buckled our seat belts, she said, "Rini, Jasmine, I want to thank both of you for getting me out of this mess. I'm really sorry."

Rini shrugged and said, "Don't mention it, you're my sister."

"Yeah, we're family," I said, receiving a grin from both women.

The trip to Debi's dorm was quiet. Debi already apologized and thanked us, and we accepted it. As we arrived, Debi stepped out of the car and gave us a serious look.

"I really meant what I said," she said more to Rini than to me. "I'm not doing this stuff again; you can trust me on this. I'm going to take a shower to get this junk off me. Bye Rini, and it's good to see you again, Jasmine."

As I watched her walk to her dorm room, I turned to Rini and said, "You know what? I think she's serious."

"Yup," Rini replied.

Our assessment turned out to be correct. Debi put most of her energy into her studies, and made the honor roll almost every semester. After she graduated, she found a nice job, a nice man, and even started taking up aikido like her little sister. She even started going barefoot, just like her little sister. Yet another person to blame Rini for.

While she drove us back to her dorm, Rini turned to me.

"Well Jas, it's official; we are now lethal women," she said.

"I don't know what you mean by "we,' kemo sabe," I said, "but it looks like you achieved that "force field' you strived to obtain."

Rini chuckled and shook her head. "Oh Jas, Jas, Jas (did I mention she's the only person I let call me that?), you are very close to your sister Kim, and your cousin LS, but they sometimes don't know you like I do. While I was taking care of Debi's boyfriend, or rather, ex-boyfriend, I saw you taking care of the rest of the guys at the bar. You weren't even breathing hard when you finished. Your modesty is refreshing, but you need to have more faith in your abilities."

"But I have faith in my abilities."

"Not as much as others think you do. In fact, you should be teaching others what you've got. It would be a real inspiration for those who look up to you."

At this point, the idea of teaching people was the farthest thing from my mind. I filed it away in my mind under things to think about.

"And what about you?" I countered.

"Oh I know I'm bad," she laughed. "I speak softly, smile broadly, and carry two big sticks. I've also been giving private lessons. I planned to tell you after our detective show was over, but other things got in the way."

"How many students?"

"About ten or so."

"And when do I get to see these "disciples' of yours?"

"Soon; not now, but soon. I like private instruction; you can really monitor closely what your student is doing. It's a little different from holding public classes, but that's your area."

"What?"

"You heard me."

The thing about Rini that annoys me sometimes is she has this annoying habit of being . . . right. A few weeks later, I was doing my regular tai chi exercises in a public park, and a few of my friends and total strangers asked what I was doing. Next thing I know, I'm leading a small group through these paces. Then I'm hearing joggers complain because all these tai chi people were in the way. Then I find myself asking a local school to use their gym for my students, especially when I realized I needed a place with mats to practice aikido on. I remember Kim rolling on the floor with laughter (and if you knew her, it was a sight to behold; she's as serious as the grave) saying, "I told you!" LS just smiled, she didn't need to rub it in.

"Okay, you proved your point; I'll think about it," I said.

"Very good. Now we need to deal with the bothersome habit of you wearing shoes all the time," Rini replied.

"Don't even start," I growled.

Rini laughed again. "Okay, so let's get back to my place so we can find out how the ex-wife did it."

"How do you know?"

"It's obvious, Jas! The clues were right there in the first scene."

And of course she was right. I need to tell her the police department was looking for people like her, but she'd have problems with the uniform requirements. Well not the whole part, just the specification that she'd have to wear shoes. I actually look forward to what she was going to do after graduation. Outside of lifeguard or martial arts instructor, there's not too many professions where you can run around barefoot. Knowing her, she'll find a way around that too.

I reflected on this story as I was on my way to an aikido convention back home in Indiana. It'll be nice to see family, my old friends, and my sensei among the other aikido practitioners. It'll also be great to see Rini again, since she just recently graduated college like I did, and discover what adventures she's been up to since my last visit.

For comments, suggestions, and story ideas, email me at shrewsberry@juno.com.

2007 # Barefoot Heroines, Inc.