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Here's a battle between one of the bboys from Mito's Oni Crew and I at Mito Station last Tuesday, August 17, 2010:

Today I met a b-boy who is going to be a new English teacher around my old stomping grounds in rural northern Japan.

What's interesting is the way he found me and how much social media played a part in it. He searched Youtube for Ninohe, the name of a city in the area, and found a video I had posted from a dance event hosted there last year. Upon seeing one of my related videos, he discovered that I also bboyed. Then he went to Bboyworld, one of the largest breaking web forums around, searched for the same user name from Youtube, found my profile, and contacted me from there.

From a 90's standpoint, this is the stuff we were warned about; be wary of putting too much information online and being found. But with the change in attitude that's come with the web's acceptance, this is exactly what we hope for.

Rural Japan, with it's declining population of which only a handful of whom speak English, can be a difficult area to settle into, let alone find other b-boys. But by using social media, he was able to find a shortcut: I'll be passing along the info of b-boys, b-girls and English speakers in the area.

What a reminder of the networking power of social media and the web.

Cool concept. Here's an excerpt from the show "La Main et l'Homme" ("The Finger and the Man") by Rodrigue Lino and Yves from Fantastik Armada Crew in France

This is the trailer for "Bouncing Cats", a film about the Breakdance Project Uganda. The BPU is an organization that uses hip hop and breaking to rehabilitate ex-child soldiers, juvenile prisoners and orphans in war-torn Uganda.

The founder, Abramz, has been doing it for years and has even brought legendary b-boy and pioneer Crazy Legs over to teach area b-boys and b-girls. For anyone who still thinks that breaking is just a fad from the 80's, I'd highly recommend looking into this organization to see how empowering the b-boy art and culture can be.

BOUNCING CATS film trailer from nabil elderkin on Vimeo.

I suspect that some of the b-boys I practice with are yakuza. I haven't asked them, but half of them have indiscreet, uncommon tattoos (kanji on fingers, back-sized dragons). But them being yakuza wouldn't be too surprising. Afterall, breaking has ganglife intertwined at its roots.

What's surprising is how long it took me to start suspecting them. It didn't click until our 4th or 5th session. And I think it's because I recognized them as b-boys first, and Japanese guys with tattoos second.

My suspicions should have arisen earlier. Every teacher is inundated with warnings against tattoos and how taboo they are in Japan. And if you have them, you're told to take special care to hide them from students, parents, teachers or anyone even remotely-connected to your job or local community. Onsens and other public places even have signs forbidding people with them. I've heard the warnings a thousand times and usually keep an eye out for tattoos just to be safe. I'd hate to step on the wrong guy's shoes.

In other words, I'm usually quick to notice them and make the connection. Yet, here I was, some 5 sessions later, still in the dark.

The only difference between them and others was that they were fellow breakers. Though these were tattooed Japanese men in a country where tattoos unequivocally imply ganster, I only saw b-boys. 

Members of the b-boy culture--and hip-hop culture as a whole--come in all shapes, sizes and colors. They can be male or female, short or tall, and hail from all over the globe. It's an inclusive community where people aren't judged by the color (or colors and paintings) of their skin, but by the content of their (b-boy or b-girl) character. Not only that, but tattoos are extremely commonplace in breaking and hip-hop. And since I saw them break before I saw any markings, I marked them as b-boys with tattoos first, and Japanese guys with tattoos second.

I'm not trying to come across as some purist, hip-hop hippie ("we're all the same man!"); I haven't always seen the world through b-boy goggles. But here in Japan, where I'm such an obvious-foreigner, it's often easier to relate to people more on a b-boy/hip-hop level than any other one. I just had no idea that side of me could trump the other alarms and warnings ("watch out for tattoos!") that I was usually so conscious of!  

A photograph can elicit a ton of memories. And to an athelete or dancer, so can a pair of shoes. I just took a long trip down memory lane after coming across this photo of my old "breaking shoes" in San Francisco:

As you can see, they all have wear and tear from excessive use. And with that comes history and stories unique to each pair. For example...

• While wearing the Pro-Keds Royal Master High Tops (top right-hand corner), w/blue jeans and a navy cardigan, I ran into and rocked against Rob Nasty at Club Mighty because he was wearing the exact same getup!
• In August of 2008, I battled his twin, Profo Won, while sporting the black Adidas Campuses (3rd from the bottom left) at Club Element
• And later that year, while wearing the neighboring blue ones, I had the privilege and honor of doing a street show on San Francisco's Union Square with B-boys Blitz, Iron Monkey and a few others.

Most b-boys and b-girls have detailed stories like these and our carefully selected shoes play a vital role. They offer function and form, both of which are necessities, because control and looking fresh are essential. It's gotta be the shoes!

I could go on and on about each pair. From the training room to the battle field, these fallen soldiers served me well in the line of duty.

In my local, rural Japanese community, I've been many "firsts". I'm the first American some people have ever spoken too. I'm the first African-American some people have ever seen. And last, but definitely not the least, I'm also the first hip hop head to share hip hop culture.

I don't know how much of an impact my first 2 roles really make. As an American, I do occasionally clue people in on life outside Japan, but it's rarely monumental. And my role as an African American has revolved around intimidating people on basketball courts or piquing their curiousities. But it's as a hip-hop head that I feel I'm really leaving a legacy. By sharing the culture, I've given them something long-lasting.

A thread over at Bboyworld got me thinking about foreign diplomacy and being a foreign diplomat for hip hop. I didn't plan to share as much as I have but I'm glad I did.

Early in the school year, I polled my schools, asking students what they knew about hip hop. 9 times out of 10, girls would bring up Ne-yo and guys mentioned 50 Cent. I don't know why these 2 artists are so popular here but that's what they thought hip-hop was. It was painful keeping a straight face while listening to their respones. And when one girl mentioned Soulja Boy, I nearly had a heart attack! There was no way I could claim to be their teacher and not teach them something more about hip hop. So over the last year, I've snuck in tidbits about music and breaking.

For music, I've since gotten a bunch of them into Blackalicious, Freestyle Fellowship, Talib Kweli and a few others. I gave a bunch of seniors mixed CDs as graduation gifts but I didn't tell them the artists' names. If they liked a song, and wanted to find out who it was, they'd have to listen carefully so they could google the lyrics (if I did my job as an English teacher well, then they'd be able to!). Though they could decipher the words, they were often clueless as to what the words meant. But they DID and recognize a distinct difference between the flow and ability between the music I gave them and the "hip hop" they had been previously listening to.

(Blackalicious' "Alphabet Aerobics" is a crowd favorite.)

As for breaking, I've taught 8 students off and on over the last year, and performed with 4 of them front of the community at a school festival.

Before I came, they had been interested in breaking, but only had windmill aspirations. Now they've developed their musicality and everytime we practice, they want to learn new footwork or toprock patterns. It's such a joyous feeling when they come looking for me after school and use English, a foreign language, to ask me to teach them. Being able to share breaking has been one of my favorite parts of this living in Japan.

At some point, I'm going to leave Japan. People may still remember what I said about America...or maybe they won't. Pervs may still have a phallic fixation...or maybe they'll get over it.

But even after I leave Japan, the exposure to hip hop will remain. I believe that the aural pleasure received when they first heard Gift of Gab rhyming over a Chief Xcel beat, or the excitement that coursed through their bodies after hitting a baby freeze at the same time the drummer hit a a cymbol, will stay with them, even if I don't.

If this is the legacy that I leave them, then my job as a foreign hip hop diplomat has been completed.