Amanda Takes Off...

"Amanda, are you OK? You look down."

I looked at Temp Master. "Really?" I think for a minute. I don't think I'm scowling or anything, but I am fairly quiet. I don't want to explain that every year, February—not April—just seems to go on forever. It's not even February and I'm already feeling like it's dragging on. Instead, I give him a weary smile, "I think I'm just tired."

"Oh," he smiles. He doesn't believe me, but he's not going to push it. Koreans are so good that way. "OK."

We did poomse work. After the first wave of black belts did their forms, TempMaster asked me to work with Purple Belt, to make sure she was using the right blocks and punches. I asked Brown Belt and White Belt if they wanted to join us. We worked on Sa Jang through Pal Jang.

I found it terribly funny to think of how we must look. Four color belts, all in a row. The foreigner, 7 years older than the next oldest one in the group, counting in Korean, telling the white belt the next moves in imperfect Korean, encouraging the easily discouraged Brown Belt to try again. All while the first dan black belts—including two wearing "Instructor Club" uniforms—sit on the floor. And just. Stare.

When I got there, HR caught my eye and bowed to me. I returned the bow. Enough said.

When we did kicking practice with targets, I was paired with Guy Who Doesn't Know I'm a Movie Star. He bowed low to me, used both hands to pass the focus target between us. As a sign of respect, and because I still can't figure out all of the social rules, I almost always use both hands when passing anything to anyone other than my students. Though he is a higher belt, I am his elder, so it makes sense that he is using both hands. Still, I am always surprised when the more formal aspects of Korean culture are applied to me.

(I am also surprised with the -sumnida form is used with me. At the corner store I frequent, the husband uses -sumnida and -yo with me, his wife almost always uses banmal. I loosely know how to make banmal, but understanding it when it's combined with verbs I don't know, vocabulary I don't know, and her high-speed talking, is another matter. I often end up repeating what she's saying, using the -yo form. When they're both there, my mind is working in overdrive.)

Guy was favoring one leg. "다리가 아파요?"

"애?"

"다리가," I touch my leg, "아파요?"

"네, ouchie!"

TempMaster yells for me to move the target higher. I do, but as soon as he turns around, I drop it down a few inches. Guy smiles.