Amanda Takes Off...

He tricked me.

Tonight I was supposed to be tested on Tae Gueks 1-8 Jang. In other words, everything. I told Master I wasn’t sure if I’d get there before 7:45 (on testing days, we start class at 7:30). He called me at 7:20 and asked where I was. I happened to be at the train station and told him so. He said, "OK, come quickly."

I heard my name called out as I reached the top of the steps and I waved my hand at the window while I took off my shoes. When I walked into the studio everyone clapped. I looked at them. There they were, sixteen students, Master, and his daughter, sitting on a circle, the floor in front of them covered in newspapers. There was a chocolate cake in the center and pizza boxes, soda, and chopsticks distributed. They were clapping because they were waiting for me and now they could eat.

"Sit down," he said, grinning. The only open spot was next to Master and his daughter, with Brave on the other side.

"I need to change." Everyone else was in their doboks.

"No, not now, last day of the year. Sit down. Then test." I sat down, he handed me chopsticks and said, "We have party. Amanda, American pijja?" pointing to pizza. Why didn’t anyone tell me about this party? I always know about the activities...

"Yes, pizza." (There is no z-sound in Korean, hence the z-sound becomes a j-sound.)

He tried, "PIZJA. This," he said, pointing to these fabulous Korean pancake things that were on the other side of the pizza boxes, "Korean pijja. [Studious’] mother."

I was seated with Master (and his daughter) on my right and Brave on my left. I wondered why everyone was from our class. Normally, on testing days, people come from all classes. I shrugged it off. It’s winter break at the schools and the earlier classes are made up of a lot of color-belt kids. Maybe they just couldn’t come, maybe he wanted his oldest, most senior students there. Who knows? I got to eating.

Besides being the last day of the year, it was also my last class in the studio for five weeks or so. I was looking around at the boys and Crybaby Gold Medal Girl. Master’s daughter was saying, "Annyeong hasaeyo, Amanda!" and waving her play handphone (and also a camera!) in the air. I accidentally bumped into Brave and apologized. He smiled his shy Brave smile and said in his quiet Brave voice, "It’s OK, Amanda." I looked at the ad on the newspaper in front of me from Kyung Hee University and easily understood that it was advertising study abroad programs. I said something to Master about understanding and he gave me a high five. Master offered me every drink and I said my throat hurt (I have a terrible cold!) so he sent one of the boys downstairs to get me water. Ghost was being his usual self, and sitting across the circle from me, Studious started joking about "Korean pizza! Yes, yes, Korean pizza!"

I suddenly understood.

I know how important the studio, "my boys," and Master are to me. I know (probably only in part) the impact they have on me, but this whole time I’ve viewed myself as a burden, the random woman who can’t speak, is belts below everyone else, and asks for numerous demonstrations of the same techniques, who makes the boys stay late sometimes while she asks Master grammar questions. (I realized recently that some of the boys are in charge of closing up, hence the reason they stay when I do, though they end up staying late most nights.)

A few of my friends back home have been telling me that I’m having an impact on these people, too, but I didn’t believe them.

The moment Studious said, “Korean pizza!” I thought about something that happened a week ago or so. Crybaby Gold Medal Girl was handing out these delicious chocolate covered bread sticks they have here. I said "thank you," and in turn every other person in the studio said "thank you" in English with a smile or a teasing, friendly look. When I leave, I say goodbye in Korean and usually I get answers in both Korean and English. When I come to the studio, the little kids greet me in high voices and when the older boys and I see each other, we specifically greet each other. Even if Blue doesn't greet any of the kids specifically, he greets me. Studious told me specifically about getting into University. I’ve met Ghost’s uncle and taken the boys out to dinner. They missed me when I was injured.

I’ve been in this studio for nearly 6 months and I am willing to bet this is the most experience any of these students at least have had with a foreigner outside of school. Ever. Master mentions one or two "American friends" from University, but I think they speak Korean and I'm his first ever foreign student.

I’m not sure exactly how I’m impacting these guys, but I know I am, just by the sheer virtue of being their foreigner as much as they’re "my boys."

When we finished eating, I changed while they cleaned up. We sat on the floor, waiting for the test to start, and I breathed deeply. I was very, very nervous to test on all eight forms at the same time, especially since that involved my changed stances (which have improved greatly, but still sometimes trip me up). I was only told on Wednesday that I'd be tested on all eight forms. Tonight I had been studying my forms book on the subway, mentally running through each form, especially the problematic 6th form, several times.

He had us all do Pal Jang (8, my most recent form) together and kept saying, "뒷굽이!" Backstance! That was directed at me. We did it one more time without count.

Then he had us sit down. Master went through the room, saying words to everyone. He got to me and said, "Amanda! Fighting!" I grinned and squeaked out, "Nay!" That about sums up my life in Korea. The shortest statement made to anyone, and fits me to a tee.

When he’d said something to everyone, he went on about taekwondo for a while. I assume he was talking about more philosophical thoughts since I didn’t understand most of it. Then, everyone started clapping the studio's clap and he called me to the front.

I stood, ready to test, and sensed movement behind me. Everyone was moving around. I glanced to the sides, expecting them to be seated. Instead, they were tearing down the testing materials, returning the studio to its normal state. Master told me to remember back stance and use double knife-hand strike on one of the moves.

"Test? Test today? What are we doing?" I asked in Korean.

He grinned. "No test today. Your test yesterday. Today. Tomorrow. Everyday."

I punched him on the arm. "어재 집에 연습했어요!" Yesterday I practiced at home! (Oh my, and I used the past tense!) He hadn't told me to, and I hadn't said I would, but I did it. (Why did he have them set up the whole studio to fake my test? Nobody else was testing, at least, not like I was supposed to. Oh...maybe that's why he told me class was only one hour last night when everyone else played soccer the second hour and the studio had been set up Wednesday night after class... They knew. Nobody else seemed at all surprised. They were in on it. Maybe. Maybe they were in on it. Were they?)

He said, "I know. Good. Every day is a test. You come here with a cold, test. You train with Bangi studio one month, test. You call me when you're late. Good. Test. Every day. Yesterday, today, tomorrow, here, home. Korean. All." I looked at him incredulously. I felt like I was in the some martial arts movie with the Master giving the student a smack-on-the-head over something simple. (I half expected him to tell me to go sweep while contemplating this-ness.) He handed me my passport and said, "I'll call the Kukkiwon Tuesday, they weren't open today. I wrote down your passport dates." He paused. "Are you OK?"

I was near tears. I've had a frustratingly bad week at work. I have been lied to left and right, been used and abused, and I've been very frustrated and discouraged that I may not be able to test until June because my first ARC was revoked. (As I said to someone else, "I know it shouldn't be about getting the black belt! If I were at home, it would take years longer, but dammit! I should get something good out of this country!")

And none of it mattered for two reasons.

Suddenly I felt like I could learn more philosophical aspects of the art from Master. I've always thought the language barrier would hinder us, indeed, "coaching" is one of the reasons I'm studying the language! But I realized it's never been about us, English, Korean. He's willing to teach me. It's about me (not) being ready for it. I could sit there, fluent in Korean, listening to him go on about the art part all day long. Who cares if the ear is there if the mind isn't?

And black belt, white belt, green belt, whatever, so long as I get to train. So long as I get to be involved in this this-ness, I'm happy.

I didn't know how to respond, so I just walked over to the calendar and mumbled something about me being here for six months. I managed to clear my tears while he told me good luck at Bangi (Fighting!) and when to come back. We briefly talked about ice skating, which turned into a mini-grammar lesson, and he sorted through my new set of taekwondo flash cards for me while Grin demonstrated the moves for me. (And I was right. Grin's been in charge of warm-ups lately since he's studying taekwondo at University.)

When we left, I told the boys I'd see them in February and walked partly to Crybaby Gold Medal Girl's home with her before going on my way. I wrote up some more flashcards on the way home and laughed to myself about being tricked...