First Exposure: A Piñata Among Ponies

It was my first Tai Chi class and as I approached the pavilion in the mall, I could see a mass of (I’m going to call them elders) gathering, ready to begin.  The youngest practising member was probably in their early 50s.  About 85% of the elders were of Chinese descent, the rest a mixture of Asian and Caucasian.  Most of the elders were women, and the men in the group for the most part seemed to be participating with their wives.  They were all wearing the colour red; clearly I had not gotten the memo in my bright, blue attire.  As soon as I asked one of the elders if I could participate, I was met with what was undoubtedly one of the most perplexed looks I had ever received and  with a hesitant but eager, “Of course!”  If I had already felt uneasy to begin with, it wasn’t going to get any better. The elders formed a square, dead smack in the middle of the mall’s pavilion, which I found a bit unusual as the mall traffic had to pass around us to get to their respective destinations.  I found my place around the back of the square.  

First on the menu, there were breathing exercises.  They were very slow and repetitive in nature.  It seemed simple enough.  Soon we formed lines where I was very thankful to be occupying the last row.  A man who seemed to be the teacher, dressed all in white formed the first row along with other elders who looked like they knew what they were doing; seasoned Tai Chi veterans.  This was one thing I noticed right off the bat; that it was very easy to distinguish who was a novice, at least relatively, and who had been practising for multiple years.  Later I would learn, that these differences also distinguished the reasons for their engagement in the culture.  The exercises were organized in sets starting with an easy level, and ranging to: a veteran / seasoned pro / “How are they moving their bodies like this” level.  I had a really hard time following the movements which lead to even more feelings of uneasiness.  Not to mention that I stuck out like a sore thumb!  I was a tall, lanky, 20 year old Indian among short, predominantly Asian elders.  I very obviously didn’t know what I was doing; a very comforting feeling as the passers-by gawked at me.  

What was I doing there again?

If it wasn’t for this ethnographic project, I probably wouldn’t have had this experience.  The only reason I chose Tai Chi was because it was a culture I had no understanding of whatsoever.  I am a person who exercises frequently, mostly of the resistance training variety...in a gym...with equipment... individually.  I don’t understand the reasoning behind or feel I have the need for low impact or low intensity exercise at this stage in my life.  This is why, at least I had thought at this point in my fieldwork, that older people engaged in Tai Chi as a movement requirement.  This is their physical activity for the day; it meets their abilities as persons at their age and with their capacity for movement.  And this is exactly what they told me.  After the class, when I had asked some of the members why they engaged in this practice, it was to fulfil their need to be physically active for the day.  At the same token, these people were the only ones I had the guts to talk to at the end of the class.  The pros, the ones whom have seemingly much more experience with Tai Chi gave off an air, as if they had a goal and had just fulfilled it.  They were very purposeful in their movements, in their post-Tai Chi chatter; it was quite unusually intimidating.  They clearly had deeper roots to the practice.  Although Tai Chi is practiced blatantly, their reasons for participation were not as obvious at my first class.  I would have to increase my participation to get a better understanding.  

From my first class what I did understand was that Tai Chi has unspoken restrictions: only people of a certain age, mostly people of a certain race, and mostly women practiced it.  It was performed in groups, what seemed to be the only comforting finding that day, and very early in the morning.  What any of this means I would have to find with continual field work.  At the end of the class was I actually sweating?  I'm not sure if it's because I had felt like a piñata among ponies in the centre of the mall or from the actual exercise!  I digress.  Was I looking forward to waking up at 6 the next morning and doing it all over again - not really.