The Lebanese Wu Shu Kung Fu Federation has indeed been struggling to bring the country to a respectable level in those disciplines ever since their implantation about a quarter of a century ago. Due to insufficient funds and lack of government help, it looked as if we would be missing out this time. However, days before the opening ceremony, Georges Nseir was elected president of the federation and immediately took steps. He secured a promise of sponsorship from the Ministry of Youth and Sports that would cover sending just one athlete to the championship. Federation rules specify that the martial artist designated Athlete of the Year should be the first choice, so it was without hesitation that Nseir rang up Lebanese champion Avedis Seropian, only three days before they had to fly out: "Would you like to travel?" The psychology student on the other end of the line, just about to turn 21, took it as a joke, until he was told they'd be leaving the coming Saturday. "Where are we going?" he asked. "China!"

Seropian, a lean smiling-faced young man, emeritus psychology student by day, is an assiduous student and teacher of martial arts in the evenings. Although he turned 21 the day he flew to Macau, he is no newcomer to championships, local or otherwise. He entered the realm of Chinese martial arts at the Armenian Black Belt Academy in 96 and then, almost as an afterthought, started also practicing T'ai Chi, a slow martial art that quickly became his specialty. Since 99 he hasn't missed a national competition, and he represented Lebanon both in Armenia in 2001 and in Portugal last year. His mastery over the art, obvious even to the uninitiated, can be credited to his handful of teachers, bits and pieces gathered from foreign coaches, but above all his own demands upon himself to never cease learning and improving.

The journey was painfully long to the ex-Portuguese colony of Macau, at the South of China, where the championship was taking place, and Nseir and Seropian suffered the somewhat humiliating treatment reserved to Lebanese and Arabs, such as only being allowed to board the plane a minute before take-off. When Seropian arrived in Macau he had to deal with three difficulties: jetlag, a freshly broken nose that kept bleeding, and a certain amount of scoffing from the other teams. Even though "the Lebanese are much more aware of Wu Shu and Kung Fu than the Chinese of Macau are", Lebanon hasn't yet made a name for itself in these disciplines. To make things worse, Seropian was preceded by another, unofficial representative whose performance was so marred by stage fright that a terrible first impression was made. Finally, 85 countries were participating, and the numerous athletes were also carefully selected: the level was very high and competition would be tight. Yet with only two days' notice, he had virtually no preparation! "I was worried at first," he admits, "but when I started training I noticed that there was no difference of level in T'ai Chi between the others and me."

When he entered the carpet to perform opposite a Chinese participant, the public was still sceptical, but he was no longer worried. "I didn't feel I was competing. I forgot that there were hundreds of people watching me. It's one of the reasons why I was asked to come: I don't get nervous on the carpet. On the contrary, I give more than my best."
The performance finished, Seropian had the pleasant surprise of seeing his opponent's coach come up to him to congratulate him on his form. By the end of the championship many more people were showing signs of appreciation. "I started feeling I was one of them, and it gave me more confidence to do even better. I didn't want people to laugh at me while I was wearing the Lebanese colours." Seropian earned for himself and the country a respectable classification: 13th in the world (with a note to the effect that a certain bias insures that non-Chinese are not allowed in the top 6), and 2nd in Europe, where Lebanon is categorised.

Given the situation of Wu Shu in Lebanon, this is a remarkable result. The problem of funding that has plagued the discipline for so long may be approaching a solution thanks to this first step taken by the Ministry. There remains the stagnation-inducing lack of local competition; the latter is so scarce that even though Seropian doesn't miss a single championship, he is almost always the only participant in his discipline. To which it must be added that it in no way diminished his merit, as a minimum grade of 8.50 out of 10 is necessary to be sent to international events, and in Macau Seropian achieved scores of 8.98 and 8.96.

For the federation, the Macau championship was a small victory, likely to bring about a stream of positive changes. Regardless of classifications, Seropian knows that his performance has greatly improved since Armenia, and he shares his – and the Federation's – plans for the future: "The next two years will see the European then World Championships taking place in Russia, and since we are now sponsored we won't be missing any again. As for me, I'm going to maintain my level, work non-stop and also practice harder styles to add one category to the two I am allowed." There is a note of excitement as he adds: "It was a miracle that I was sent to China, and after this, I expect anything can happen."

Whether he is aware of it or not, Seropian is also responsible for transforming Lebanon's image abroad, bit by bit, as every artist, writer, sportsman and cultural ambassador for the country should

More about Avedis and Wushu in Lebanon on PathFour.com

Article by Joumana Medlej