|
By Perry Gil S. Mallari
The mystique of Chinatown is almost always associated with its old
buildings and temples, the aroma of Chinese food and incense, and
yes, kung fu, the ancient Chinese martial art.
 |
 |
|
Co (left)
demonstrating weapons technique
with a fellow Ngo Cho Kun practitioner. |
Among martial arts practitioners in Manila’s
crowded district of Chinatown, one kung fu school has become
legendary because of its distinction in preserving the art’s
authentic tradition as passed on from old China—the Beng Kiam
Athletic Association, the oldest kung fu school in the
country.
“Beng Kiam was established in 1935 by the late
Master Tan Ka Hong,” relates Alexander Co, the school’s current
vice chairman. Co, who started training with Beng Kiam in 1968 is
now among the most revered masters of the organization. He shares
that a kung fu master named Tan Kiong Beng (founder Tan Ka Hong’s
father), who specializes in the Ngo Cho Kun (Five Ancestors) style
of kung fu traveled by sea to Manila from China during the early
30s.
“Like most traditional martial art masters,
the elder Tan employed his skills then as a herbalist and bonesetter
to help his compatriots in the country,” Co narrates. Confronted
with a clamor to establish a kung fu school in the Philippines, the
older Tan assigned his son the task of spearheading his beloved
martial art in the country. “The original location of Beng Kiam
was in Asuncion Street, then it moved to Nueva Street (where the
Holland Hopia factory is now located), until it was finally
relocated to its current place at the far end of the same street,”
adds Co. Unlike commercial martial arts academies, Beng Kiam dons no
signage on its façade and unless you know somebody in the school or
ask an old timer, you can roam Binondo District all day and never
find it.
Elaborating on the style of kung fu that Beng
Kiam teaches, Co says that the Ngo Cho Kun is one of the most famous
kung fu styles that came out of the Fujian province in China. “It
is basically a synthesis of five earlier fighting styles: white
crane, monkey, emperor, Bodhidharma and Lohan,” he explains,
adding, “Ngo Cho Kun became so famous that the previous five
individual methods were overshadowed.” The veteran kung fu sifu
(teacher) also elaborates that Ngo Cho Kun is a close-quarter combat
art much like wing chun, the original style studied by the
celebrated Bruce Lee.
Co, who has been in the art for 40 years, has
the fearsome aura of a fighter with an inch-thick layer of callous
on the knuckles of his right fist. “Ngo Cho Kun practitioners are
honed toward internal energy cultivation,” he stresses, “It is
used in bursting energy attacks and iron body development.”
Despite the obvious rigor of the training, he emphasizes that
striking a balance in everything is of utmost importance, “It
should always be yin and yang, otherwise it won’t be healthy,”
Co cautions.
Co reminisces that during his youth, kung fu was
akin to basketball today among the Chinese kids of Binondo.
“It’s a common pastime after school and there were really lots
of kung fu schools then in our area,” he recalls. Co also tells of
a kung fu tradition that is now gone, “Kung fu practitioners
during the pre-World War II days served as the protectors of the
community,” he discloses. He relates that the schools or kwoons
then do not charge much but once a student is accepted, it was an
unwritten law that he would also serve as protector of the
community.
Co remembers Master Tan’s reluctance to accept
trainees that do not display the needed abilities, “He’s worried
that they would just become a liability when trouble erupts,” he
says. Co also remembers that it was customary then for prominent
Chinese businessmen to employ kung fu experts as bodyguards, “But
from the 1950s and beyond, that tradition slowly died,” he
intones.
Through the years, Co says that Beng Kiam has
kept the original tradition of teaching kung fu only to Chinese.
“It manages to maintain that tradition because it is not a
commercial school and does not need to attract students,” he
explains. He adds that there were exceptions though. “Through its
more than seven decades of existence, there were only three
Filipinos that were accepted to train in the school. The most
notable of them is Christopher Ricketts of the famed Bakbakan
fighting group, the other is Benjie Lozare, who once served as dean
of mass communication at the University of the Philippines, and the
third person, his name I forgot.”
People today hardly know the difference between
traditional kung fu and modern wushu, which is the unified Chinese
martial arts version of Communist China. “This is evident even
among Chinese,” he laments. Co believes that much of the combative
essence of the original kung fu has been lost in the eclectic
version that is now proliferating among the new generation of
practitioners. “It’s more like ballet, how can you fight with
that,” he bemoans.
Commenting on his recent visit to China, Co says
that the remaining kung fu traditionalists in the mainland share the
same sentiment. “In China, the old masters say it’s either you
follow modern wushu or get left out.” Co also shares his piece of
thought on the popularity of mixed martial arts (MMA) events
nowadays, “It’s popular as a sport but one must realize that a
real street fight is on a totally different level.”
Co is an embodiment of the yin and yang
philosophy of kung fu, the man is sharp not only physically but
intellectually as well. He is a seasoned writer and holds the
distinction of writing and publishing the very first kung fu book in
the Philippines. In the post-Bruce Lee mania period, Co bravely came
out with Martial Arts Magazine until logistical and distribution
woes made him quit. “There’s really no money in martial arts
publication and that venture was just a labor of love,” he
narrates. Older and wiser a few years down the line, Co again
pursued publishing books on the subject, which fared better both on
local and international distribution. He also explains that being a
writer allowed him to question old kung fu masters regarding nuances
of the art with much boldness, “Traditionally they would consider
that rude had I not informed them that I was a writer,” he
explains.
With a taint of sadness evident in his eyes, Co
comments that the younger generation is no longer that interested in
kung fu. When asked to compare the dedication of kung fu students
then and now, he says, “Medyo malayo na, [it’s quite far in
comparison].” Co’s passion for the art does not show any sign of
waning down. With such a man, the tradition of real kung fu lives on
in Manila’s Chinatown.
|
