N°35 – Blue belt

Latvia, 16th October
I try to get up at 6:20 am, but these days it’s still dark outside at that hour and it’s a struggle to get myself out of bed. I’m not an early bird at all, but when I do manage to be up early, I feel like a champion. I quickly throw on something simple, rush out, and hop on one of those electric scooters. I then put my music on, something light and silly, like “Espresso” by Sabrina Carpenter. I love the feeling of the wind on my face, the quiet streets and the thought of everyone still sleeping.

When I arrive at the gym, I put my kimono on and head to the mats. We greet each other, it’s a small ritual, and then the training starts: first, with some mobility exercises, kind of like doing scales in music, and then free combat, with everyone rolling around on the floor sweating.

At my new gym I am also finally learning some Latvian. I met this girl and we made a pact: I will teach her some moves and she’ll translate and teach me some words.

It all started in 2020. I was in Moscow, at a friend’s birthday party, and I ended up sharing a taxi back to the metro with a guy who did jiu jitsu. We exchanged our Instagrams and after a while of watching his Instagram stories, I signed up for a personal training session with his coach.

Before, I thought that jiu jitsu, like other martial arts, was just a bunch of sweaty men rolling around, but I was wrong. There’s a philosophy behind it: it’s about falling and getting back up, it’s about how a small-framed girl can get a man twice her weight on his back if she has the right strategy, it’s about staying focused. 

However, when COVID started, the gym closed. So it was only on February 13th, 2022 that I went back to jiu jitsu. My ex-boyfriend invited me for a “date on tatami”. It was funny.

Then, 10 days later, Russia invaded Ukraine. My colleagues woke me up at 5AM and told me I had to get to the newsroom. We were working 24/7.

One day, the police stopped me in the metro, because of my job, they probably traced me through facial recognition software. After that, I started having panic attacks, I couldn’t go down into the metro, I was paranoid about cameras. I only travelled about by taxi and started slowly packing up my things and thinking about leaving.

Jiu jitsu really helped me back then. I was so anxious I couldn’t sleep, but at least I could train to the point where my body would pass out from fatigue. It also helped to be around men in a ring-like setting, it made me feel like, if it came to it,   would be able to defend myself.

For six months, I filled my every day with jiu jitsu and music (I was in my third year of a music college). I had my kimono in one bag and a dress and heels for concerts in another. I felt like I was living Hannah Montana’s life.

In August 2022, I left Moscow and I ended up in Riga. I had to build a new life from scratch, and I went back to the mat. Going to the gym gave me that routine, the stability that I lacked in every other aspect of my life. I made friends, I met so many amazing girls, I admire every single one of them. It’s my way out of my little bubble. There’s also a very strong sense of community, it’s almost like belonging to a subculture.

I like observing people’s surprise when I, a small cute-looking girl, tell people I do martial arts. It’s like a superpower. It makes me feel more confident. In this unstable world, I feel there’s something I have control over, I feel strong.

Although I participate in competitions, I try not to have any specific goals. My biggest aim is not to lose the joy that I feel now, the feeling of “wow, I can do that, too?”. If I get my blue belt it will be a token, a symbol of  what I went through: the immigration, the war, the repressions, the goodbyes. The things I survived.

Nadya

Nadya is a 29-year old journalist and video maker. Originally from Moscow, she is currently working in exile. She has been doing Brazilian jiu jitsu on and off for 2,5 years and holds a white belt (the beginning rank) with four stripes, one stripe short of the blue belt.

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