Every once in a while, I get asked why I do it. Why I let people beat me with rattan swords and dress up in funny clothes.... this has to be one of the funnier stories I have heard and definately fits my style of humor... b/c my tail wags when I get on the field too....
For those who don't know, I am in the
SCA, a middle ages re-enactment group.
SCA Cross Dressing, or “How a Heian Period Samurai becomes a Squire to a Varangian (Russian Norseman living in Constantinople) Guardsman”By Tanaka Raiko
The Society for Creative Anachronisms is a curious place. Where else could a martially inclined Heian period (11th century) samurai meet up with and squire to a Varangian Guardsman?
For those of you who aren’t familiar with the Varangian guardsman, they were essentially Russian Norseman who were in the “employ” of the Byzantine Empire. So say they were being paid off not to raid Constantinople, some say they were just a “social club”. Go figure.
At any event you can see a myriad of costume styles from a dozen or so cultures. A cavalcade of dress floods every event site. Side less surcoats swim with Elizabethan corsets, Bath robe samurai take tea with bunny fur bikini wenches, and it’s all so marvelous.
Truth be told I personally wasn’t in love with my persona, Tanaka Raiko.
My “l’Amor du Jour” sorta dragged me into the SCA. (kicking and screaming actually) Drove me to a fighter practice on a Sunday afternoon. In my first time in armor I was beaten to a pulp. Quite literally. I vowed to myself that I would extract my returns from those who wronged me. Became quite passionate about it. This passion mated quite naturally with my academic studies. The germs of Dieter started long ago.
I studied medieval military history in college and had 6 years of German language studies. I really wanted to be a Landsknecht. The outrageous stripes and colors of a dopplesoldat appealed to my inner German. I researched, and researched even coming up with a great “Deutsche namen”. I would be “Dieter Langstaff”. The double entendre and the genetic incongruity made for delectable irony.
Alas, “Dieter” was not to be.
My girl stated in no uncertain terms that I was to be a Samurai, to counteract all the blond/red headed and blue eyed nipponphiles. Fight as I might, the flesh’s weakness at times over rules one’s better judgement. Tanaka Raiko was born.
In Tanaka’s short time in Atlantia he blazed a trail fast and furious taking note and getting noticed for a variety of things, some of them good. My time in the south was soon over and I head to the ancestral home of all things Tanaka…Lodi NJ.
My first event in the East was in Rusted Woodlands was 19 years ago. It was the Ironman triatholon, you had to fight, run a footrace against your opponent, then shoot arrows. I thought the concept interestingly ludicrous so of course I entered. My armor was ill fitting and hideous, comprised of a solid breast plate that was too long for my torso and allowed for little or no flexibility. A hideous blue “Mace landing pad” (a clone helm, think metal wash bucket, you wouldn’t be far off) for a helm. I fought only single sword and two weapon (which I authorized in only a week prior.) I was ready for anything, or so I thought.
My first opponent in a tournament was a mutton chop festoon, British beef eater looking chap who looked evilly similar to the villain (Bennett) in that award winning Schwarzenegger movie, “Commando”. He introduced himself as Magnus, with a hearty handshake and laugh. The pale blue eyes crinkled as he regarded his opponent. Gold chain glinted sharply in the icy winter sunlight while small rowel spurs clicked metallically.
Our first conversation went sort of like this;
Tanaka: “What form would you like to fight Magnus?”
Magnus: “Well, what forms are you authorized in?”
Tanaka: “Weapon and Shield, but I just authorized in single sword and two weapon!” (if I had a tail it would have wagged, so pleased with myself I was)
Magnus: “Just authorized in Single sword, (his grin was horrific, it haunts my dreams to this day) wellllll…ok how about that one!”
So we fought. It wasn’t like the dramatic clashes of Jedi Knights from the movies, nor was it the choreographed precision of Japanese samurai duals. It was, to use a phrase from one of my squires, just a “ghetto beat down”. It was so bad, that I won best death.
Youthful vigor is the ally of the unskilled and I bounced up from my beating like Golden Retriever with a ball. (if I had a tail it would have wagged.)
I beat Sir Magnus (as I later found out the white belt, chain, and spurs signified his membership in the Order of the Chivalry, and wasn’t some sort of not so subtle statement of lifestyle) in the foot race and the archery.
Tanaka: “Golly Magnus, That was great! We’ll have to do it again! (tail wagging effusively)
Magnus: “Kid, I like your attitude….Do you like gladiator movies?”
Not quite 8 years and many roads later Sir Magnus Bloodax, a 10th century Varangian Guardsman knighted his first squire the 11th century Heian period Samurai, Tanaka Raiko.
I look back, and my tail still wags.
Topic: "I look back, and my tail still wags." (Read 1567 times)