High kicks and high hopes

When introduced, Tim Gerken nods, and smiles quietly. His handshake is firm, his voice low and soft. "Sorry, kung Tagalog ko ay konti," he apologizes in advance, with a heavy German accent. "I am still learning."

He is carrying a long bamboo pole, and to show the photographer what he can do with it, he spins into action, leaping, kicking and twirling the staff in wide arcs. Later, he discards the weapon, and continues with strikes and mid-air punches and kicks. He turns and crouches, his hands balled into fists and his index fingers pointing down. His face is serious, his concentration intense. The routine is dramatic, practically a dance, both graceful and dangerous. It’s great to watch–from a safe distance. It almost proves too fast for the camera, and the photographer has to ask Tim to repeat moves a few times.

Later, the twenty-one year old Fil-German explains the routine: "I am a student, a brown belt of Seven-Star Praying Mantis Style Kung-Fu. It’s a style that copies the moves of the praying mantis, so that’s why my hands are like that, and why I move that way. It is for grabbing, and breaking bones."

In December, Tim applied this martial art in combination with the equally-graceful but more genteel art of ballet, in a Marikina cultural performance. Tim danced with ballerina Christine Crame, in a number he describes as "a fight between kung-fu and ballet." It was, according to him, a new and incredible experience.

"[It was] a challenge, even in the rehearsals. I have no training in dance. And all the lifting was different, I had never thrown a girl around like that before!" he recalls, laughing. "Dancing has such a different energy."

The steps (and leaps, and flying kicks) that led to the performance began with Tim’s arrival in the Philippines last July. Tim had already visited the country previously, when he was ten. His mother, Teresita Abarrentos, a Filipina, had brought him with her on a visit. In 2005, he bought a plane ticket with his savings, and returned to know more about his Filipino ancestry.

"I went to the Philippines to find my other kalahati, my other side. I have experienced Germany, and its people, its habits and traditions and mentality, so I came here to discover for myself about the culture, and my family here: lolas, titos and pinsans. And I came to learn Tagalog, so I can speak to my mother in her language. I thought I would stay for only two and a half months, but I like it here so much that I am staying until the end of December."

"It’s very different from Germany," he says. "The people here are warm, and there is so much hospitality. And everyone is nice and caring, always inviting you to a kainan or a fiesta. In Germany, maybe because of the weather, people are not as together all the time. All the houses are closed, the windows locked. There are gardens, but they have fences around them. Here, there are so many people in the houses, and very big families and so many relatives. I would get introduced to someone and then I go, ‘oh, you are a pinsan, too?’ I feel closer to my pinsans here than my cousins in Germany."

One of his relatives, Nanding Josef, artistic director of the Cultural Center of the Philippines, saw one of Tim’s routines and encouraged him to work with Ballet Philippines for a performance. Tim also taught a few classes in Ballet Philippines, integrating some kung-fu moves into their repertoire. It was a learning experience for everyone involved, but, more importantly for Tim, it was a good excuse to stay in the Philippines a while longer. He had more sights to see, more pinsans to meet. And he wanted to spend more time with his grandmother, who lives in Batangas.

Tim confesses that the ballet performance isn’t the first time he’s performed overseas. He recalls one vacation, in Holland a few years ago, where he and a few friends decided to earn some money by setting up a martial arts street show. "It was in a plaza, and we needed money, so we made it look like a fight. We had a friend play some music from a radio, and someone else pretended to suddenly attack me in the street. We were getting a big crowd. We were about to pass a hat around for money when suddenly we were surrounded by policemen. There was a bank truck transporting money near us, and when they saw there was some kind of fight nearby, they called the police. We explained that it was just a show, and they said it was okay, but by that time the people were gone, and so–walang pera." He laughs. "But it was still a great experience."

Tim’s commitment to his martial art began in Münster six years ago, when he signed up for a class with some friends. His group, with his parents’ blessing, converted the Gerken basement into a mini-gym. They salvaged phone books from the garbage ("You know, like that movie, Rocky, when he was training? Only instead of punching meat, we used the Yellow Pages. It hurt, but it made our hands tough").

He went to the University of Hamburg, because there is a large kung-fu school in the area. For his mandatory civil service (a nine-month stint required of all German youths), he chose a job as a driver in a hospital, because it provided a lot of free time he could devote to martial arts and practice. His discipline has earned him several promotions. "I am a brown belt now. When I fly back to Germany, I will prepare for the test to qualify as a black belt."

"But it’s not about the belts," he quickly adds. "I just want to perfect myself. I am doing okay, but I’m far from perfect. But I keep trying. When I do kung-fu, when I am alone practicing, in the basement with the lights turned low, it feels good. There is something very satisfying about the experience, how the kung-fu pushes me, about the adrenaline that goes with the practice."

Tim is happy that he has been able to share his kung-fu, and learn a few things from ballet. He mulls over bringing a show to Germany, to recruit some of his martial arts friends in the fusion of the two disciplines. The Philippines, as well as Philippine arts, has made a deep impression on the young man. "A show like that would be a new way, a good way to tell people about kung-fu."

He outlines plans for the future, when he returns to Germany: more practice, the black belt, a Business Administration course. "I plan to come back to the Philippines, but I have to make money first. It’s very expensive, to fly here, at ako, kailangan ko ng pera," he says, grinning.

Another thing he will miss when he leaves, he says, will be the food. "Even before I came here, my favorite food was monggo, which I learned to cook from my mother. I would eat it before tournaments, in Germany. ‘It gives me power!’ I told my friends, and soon, all my friends were eating monggo with me," he laughs. "The food here is very good, as long as you do not know what it is made of. Like sisig. When I go back to Germany, I will cook sisig for my friends, and after we eat it, I’ll tell them how it is made." He laughs as he imagines the look on their faces.

"It has been a wonderful few months," Tim says. He smiles, wistful. "I wish I could stay longer. Will I be back? I don’t know when, but sure. You bet."