Monk Takes Off His Shoe: The Sequel

My Continuing Life as a Shaolin Shoe Salesman
by Gene Ching

A Shaolin Side-Trip
You might think it rude of me to make a sequel to an infomercial. But in today's world, where most Hollywood productions are just big infomercials (wasn't CASTAWAY just a huge ad for FedEx?), you shouldn't be too critical. Infomercial sequels are actually en vogue. There are so many products tied to SPIDERMAN and LORD OF THE RINGS that it's hard to think of them as movies anymore. If Lucas, Coppola, Kurosawa, Raimi, et. al. ad nauseum can get away with such sequels, why not me? And to be blunt, since when have I let the risk of rudeness impede my behavior? Besides, my previous Shoe infomercial MONK TAKES OFF HIS SHOE PART ONEwas so wildly popular - especially with my bosses when the orders came rolling in - that I just can't resist cashing in on a sequel.

If you hate infomercials, you don't have to read this. It's a free internet. You can just click here and be done. But if you can tolerate another sales pitch threaded through an engaging tale, read on. Like any good infomercial, there will be "info" to keep the "mercial" moving along, and hopefully worth your attention. At the very least, you'll learn a lot about martial arts shoes, possibly more than you ever wanted to know.

Black Feiyues Now Available!
To be blunt once again, this article is brought to you by black Feiyues. That's right. Black. I wouldn't even be writing this if it wasn't for black Feiyues. For me, writing this piece is the icing on the cake after finally acquiring them. For years, rumors circulated about the existence of black Feiyues. There were eyewitness accounts, even some blurry photos, just like Bigfoot or crop circles. Everyone wanted them, and no one more than me. Standard Feiyues are red, white and blue, and as we say, "those colors never run." But they're mostly white canvas, which gets dirty really quickly. A well-worn pair of Feiyues is really red, brown and blue - not so flattering or patriotic.

Maybe it has something to do with black belts, but for most martial artists, the color of choice is black. Fashion conscious practitioners have often complained that they like Feiyues, but red, brown and blue clash with their uniforms. I'm not arguing against that; I like black too. Sometimes I even black out the logos on black shoes to get that jet-black-mode-of-stealth look. All my shoes are black, all except my Feiyues, and while I've been tempted to paint them black, I've never gone that far. So it became my warrior quest to find the legendary black Feiyues.

This self-appointed mission wasn't nearly as hard as the quest for the Holy Grail. After all, MartialArtsMart.com deals directly with the Feiyue factory, so I just had our buyer ask them. They said they had never made Feiyues in black. Never. According to Feiyue's manufacturer, all those black "Feiyues" were from inferior knockoff suppliers. In fact, one company (which I won't name here out of professional courtesy) went so far as to order real Feiyues, then create a knockoff from their design, and then make both black and white versions emblazoned with their own name brand. It's not as if the knockoffs are much cheaper price-wise, since Feiyues are pretty inexpensive. In fact, we pay almost as much in import tariff as we do for the shoe itself. The knockoffs are just lower quality - they wear out faster. Others have put their own logo over knockoff Feiyues, such is the marketing strategy in China where copyrights are not held in such high regard - but it all comes a little too late. Feiyue already has name-brand recognition amongst the savvy martial artists. Real martial artists want real Feiyues, not cheap imitations.

This has created a rather ironic situation for the marketing of a Chinese import - brand loyalty in Asia, the land of abundant knockoffs from Rolex to Microsoft. Now I have nothing against knockoffs as long as they work. One of my all-time favorite knockoffs was a fashion line of clothing called McDonald's Sport, cheesy commie disco shirts complete with the golden arches. I still bust out my McDonald's Sport shirt when I want to annoy my friends. I love cheesy knockoffs. But as Feiyues go, I've tried the knockoffs and they always wear out more quickly. Maybe it's some secret recipe for the rubber in the sole. Feiyun, Feilong, and all the other strange logos you might find below the ankle of knockoffs, just don't perform as well in the long run. For now, Tiger Claw/MartialArtsMart has the exclusive on black Feiyues until the other companies wise up, take their phony name brands off the market, and get the real thing: Authentic Black Feiyues from MartialArtsMart.com and TigerClaw.com. I imagine it won't be long before the others catch on. At least, you'll know who brought you real authentic black Feiyues first. All right, that's enough "mercial" for now, back to some "info."

Street Fightin' Shoes
The whole subject of martial arts shoes is funny since the pop culture stereotype of martial arts is a barefoot Karate black belt. The misconception was grossly perpetuated by the media in the '70s. Kwai Chang Caine walked across China and the old West barefoot? Yeah, right. Billy Jack liked to take his shoes off before he fought? Give me a break. A good martial arts shoe is like a bag glove for your feet. The bag glove keeps you from cutting your knuckles. Well, toes have knuckles too. I've seen plenty of people get kicked barefoot, but none compares to the street fights I've seen where someone takes a boot to the head. If I'm going to kick someone for real, I'd prefer to have shoes on.

Today, we accept martial arts shoes as a common piece of gear, but they're a really new invention. Shoes designed specifically for martial arts practice are not traditional at all, they're modern. They were invented by western practitioners in the last few decades. The whole notion of specialized shoes is quite recent - a new market created by athletic shoes companies. In truth, Feiyues aren't strictly speaking "martial arts shoes" despite the fact that they are so commonly used by martial artists. They are designed more as cross trainers or a general athletic shoe.

In the '80s, there were only a few brands of martial arts shoes available, most of them variations on the same basic design. Today, I couldn't begin to count how many there are. There are designs to fit all sorts of needs and styles. And, of course, there are all those cheap knockoffs. But back in the day, there were only a few, and a pair of shoes got me a free ride to a huge party - Spring Break at Fort Lauderdale. The advantage to wearing martial arts shoes on the street (beyond being able to kick someone in the head comfortably at any moment) is that it helps identify you to other martial artists. Now, I've always liked to think that I can spot a martial practitioner by the way they carry themselves. There's something about the posture and the musculature - those extra cuts on the forearms, the grace of moment, the glint in the eye and erectness of the spine - these are clues. A martial artist learns to size up another martial artist quickly, be they friend or foe. It's a warrior thing. You need to be able to size up every potential opponent quickly. And any subculture, like spies, drug users and homosexuals, learns to spot one another as a matter of social behavior.

So years ago, long before GIRLS GONE WILD videos, I was on my first (and only) trip to Fort Lauderdale for Spring Break. My Dad had given me a free flight ticket he had earned with business trip mileage. It was about to expire, he wasn't going to use it, so I jumped on it. With only a few bucks, I flew out alone, figuring I had just enough cash to live on for a week if I was thrifty. On the plane, a pleasant clean-cut gentleman came up to me and said, "I couldn't help but notice your shoes." I was wearing some of those early martial arts shoes, a design that has since disappeared. Since there were only a few shoes available back then, it was easily recognized. It turned out that he was a practitioner too, and we had a very enjoyable discussion about martial arts for the long cross-country flight. Fort Lauderdale was his home, and after our flight he not only gave me a free ride down to the beach party zone, he gave me his number. "If you get into any trouble," he said with a mischievous grin, "call me." Fortunately, I didn't have to take him up on that offer, but as a young, aspiring martial artist, it was one of my first exposures to an unspoken warrior code of etiquette. Martial artists are like family. Once we determine that someone else is a martial artist (and not an enemy), we help each other. Wearing those martial arts shoes on the street not only procured me a free ride when I was low on cash, it provided a safety net in a strange town. Now, in traditional kung fu, there's a notion about hiding your skills, and I've met plenty of Chinese masters who would completely fool me on the streets - little old ladies, pot-bellied dudes, lithe girls with tiny waists - these masters could sucker punch me with ease because I'd never expect such power from them. But today, it can be advantageous to be identified as a martial artist because it can bring you "in the family," and that has its benefits.

Ego and Sole
At Shaolin, all the kids wear Feiyues all the time, both as training shoes and street shoes - probably because these are the only pair of shoes they own. When I'm at Shaolin, I'll usually wear them too, even to climb the mountains. This is because I'm usually too tired from the lessons to carry an extra pair of shoes around. At Shaolin, Feiyues become my street shoes. There's a school of thought in the martial arts that you should train in what you would fight in on the street. This is a reasonable strategy, but I balk at the so-called "street fighting" schools that go so far as to frown upon uniforms and such. Uniforms serve an important role in the martial arts (and that's not just because we sell them). Uniforms are meant to eliminate the ego by removing the vanity of fashion. Dissolution of the ego is very important if you plan to pursue martial arts for your entire life. The older I get, the more sense this makes to me. I do believe in training in street clothes now and again for reality's sake, but not as a replacement to a regular school uniform.

The issue of martial arts shoes is a little trickier. My street clothes are not going to make that much of a difference, unless my casual pants are extremely tight, which they aren't. But foot work is critical. If you're only used to fighting in martial arts shoes, that could present a problem if you ever have to take it out on the street in casual shoes. Many martial arts shoes are designed specifically for use indoors, in the school. This means that the sole is specialized and not recommended for street use, more like a dance shoe (irregardless, I do know many people who wear Tiger Claw shoes every day, but that's another matter). One of the biggest factors for me in selecting a casual shoe is how it might work for kung fu, just in case. Fortunately, now there are martial arts street shoes - Thunderkicks.

When we first got samples of Thunderkicks, I was skeptical. They looked too heavy and the high tops wouldn't work for a lot of the low stances - stances I'm supposed to do but can't (nevertheless, I want the freedom to do those low stances just in case I get that low someday). Initially, I ignored the product. However, the martial family reared its head again. I've known the designer of Thunderkicks for years. He's Tim Louie, an old San Francisco Bak Sil Lum man. We did some demonstrations together back in the day. Since I was of the Bak Sil Lum lineage too, I had to give my martial cousin some face and try a pair. "Remember those old platform shoes we wore in the 70's?" Tim confided with a conspiring smile. "We could kick down doors with those, no problem. I designed Thunderkicks with that in mind." Well, I haven't had the opportunity to kick down any doors, but given these shoes, I see what he means. I'll stick to my Feiyues in the studio, but on the streets, I wear Thunderkicks everyday now. I can lace them up tight if I need extra traction or wear them loose using wide Velcro closure instead. The closure covers the laces, which is very helpful for traditional Chinese martial arts practitioners. Hiding your laces is very important in Chinese martial arts, and not just so you won't fall for that old "Hey, your shoe's untied" line.

Yeah, I know, we slipped from "info" mode back into "mercial" for a moment there. That happens in an infomercial. I try to do it subtly, to keep you reading, but inevitably you see that hyperlink to MartialArtsMart.com. At least I admit it. I'm not as sneaky as those rich Hollywood directors. To reel you back in, here's some more "info" - the how's and why's of slapping kicks and why we hide our laces.

The Sound of One Foot Slapping
One of the distinct characteristics of Chinese martial arts is slapping the foot when kicking. We do this for two main reasons, beyond the cool popping sound. The first is conditioning. Like I mentioned in my previous Shaolin Shoe Salesman article, the Chinese arts were the people's arts, unlike the more militaristic Japanese and Korean arts which were more exclusive. Chinese often didn't train in a nice clean Dojo or Dojang. We trained in the fields, on rooftops and in the street, places where bags or striking pads weren't always available. So instead, Chinese practitioners slapped their kicks to harden both their hands and feet. What better surface is there to train strikes than human flesh? And it's all the better if you can condition both your hand and foot simultaneously.

The second reason is application. The slap is also a strike. We are striking with the hand at the same time that we are kicking with the foot. It's harder to defend against two simultaneous attacks, so in typical kung fu strategy, we smack them in the face while we kick them in the soft and tenders. With a little emotional content, one of the attacks should penetrate. When you understand both of these principles, observing a slap kick can give you a good indicator of a practitioner's skill. Remember that warrior thing: martial artists have to size each other up quickly. When watching a slap kick, don't watch the foot so much as the hand. How does it strike you? Does it have the kind of impact that would both toughen the hand and cause damage to an opponent? Or is it just making a fancy sound. My old Bak Sil Lum Sifu used to say you didn't even have to look. You could just hear it when it was right. There's a difference in the sound of a fluffy slap and a solid strike.

The slap kick reveals even more when you give the slap a careful analysis. There are two main ways to deliver the hand strike. The first is the most common - a downward slap. It's like clapping your hand and foot together. This produces a good clapping sound and is what you see in modern wushu. As an application, it's sort of a "stooge-fu" move. You're slapping down on the face or forehead, much like Moe did to Curly. It can cause damage if it catches the eyes or the bridge of the nose, but the top of the skull is pretty hard so most people can't crack it with a palm slap. Of course, there are some iron palm masters who can shatter coconuts with a palm slap, but I imagine they restrain themselves with slapping their own foot in practice. So the slapping hand is really more of a distraction technique, something to bring the opponent's attention to their head when you're kicking them the gonads. It's seldom a killing blow.

The other method is much more challenging and lethal. Instead of slapping, thrust the hand horizontally for a finger jab. As opposed to coming downward in concert with the upwards kick, the hand moves linearly out as a finger thrust to the throat or eyes. This is more difficult because you're coordinating two different momentums, an upwards kick and a linear thrust. Employing two different energies simultaneously is more advanced, more effective and more typical of high-level kung fu. And given the target, a finger jab is more brutal than a downward slap, assuming you've conditioned your fingertips. Now this method doesn't harden your hand strike in the same way as the previous method, since your foot impacts your palm, not your fingertips. But it does increase your kicking speed. Your hand is much faster when jabbing than your kicking leg. It's easy to do a downward hand slap slowly and still achieve a slap, but try it with a thrust and kick. My Shaolin Monk Sifu once told me that the thrusting kick was a way to identify traditional kung fu from modern wushu; Traditional Songshan Shaolin does the thrust, not the downward slap. But I'm not sure I'd use that as a distinction because I've seen plenty of traditional styles that do a downward slap. One thing is certain. The thrust is a more sophisticated technique than the slap. You need to master the downward slap first, before you can attempt the thrust. And for what it's worth, the techniques are interchangeable. For almost any slap kick, you can insert a thrusting finger jab, and the only ones noticing the difference will be the people in the know (and those of you reading this infomercial).

The issue of slapping and thrusting brings us back to those covered laces on martial arts shoes and the one slight flaw in Feiyues. Most specialized martial arts shoes cover the laces (even though most people who use them practice Tae Kwon Do or Karate, neither of which does much slapping). There are two major designs for lace coverage. Thunderkicks have that fat leather Velcro closure. Tiger Claw shoes have a little elastic pocket to tuck the laces into. It's got to be either a cover or a pocket.

Feiyues have no such device (remember, they weren't originally designed as martial arts shoes). The downside is obvious. When you slap your foot (or more likely when you kick and finger thrust) you can get your fingers caught in the laces and that's bad. This can really hurt, not to mention the embarrassment of falling on your ass while kicking nothing but air (and sadly, I know this from direct experience).

There are two common solutions to this problem. One is to lace up backwards - tie the bow at the toe end instead of the ankle end. Personally, I think this looks hideous, like you don't know how to tie your own shoe. What's more, it's harder to cinch down the lacing since it should be tighter at the ankle end, not the toe end. Nevertheless, you see some Feiyue-wearing practitioners lace up backwards, and now you know why. The other method is to tuck your laces inside themselves. This is what I usually do. I find it a more elegant solution. In either case, it's another way you can tell where someone might be at in their practice - look at how they lace up.

So Have You Bought Your Black Feiyues Yet?
Well, that was quite a rant about shoes, wouldn't you say? But Feiyue shoes are like so many aspects of Chinese culture, simple at first, then complex, and then simple again. By examining one small thing, you can see a world of connections. Herein lies some of the beauty and sophistication of a Chinese art like kung fu. Once the intention is clearly understood, you can take a simple movement and find meaning in it on multiple levels - making it applicable in various scenarios. Often most of those meanings aren't obvious at first. It takes time to flesh them out. All you have to do is dig deep enough, practice long enough, and pay attention.

I hope you've enjoyed my little two-part experiment in kung fu storytelling and shoe-selling. It's all in good-natured fun and, in all honesty, I do wear Feiyues as a martial arts shoe and Thunderkicks as a street shoe now (not that my blunt behavior should serve as a role model). For what it's worth, I do endorse them personally. You may experience some side-effects from these experiments, such as calf cramps, sore arches and tired, listless feet. If this happens to you, simply take two Feiyues for your kung fu practice, and your condition should improve rapidly. Be Martial Art Smart, Shop MartialArtsMart. We now return you to your regular programming.

About Gene Ching:
Gene Ching is Associate Publisher of Kung Fu Tai Chi magazine and KungFuMagazine.com. Animation created by Senior Designer Patrick Lugo.