Amanda Takes Off...

"Next time I'll believe you, Master."

"I know, Amanda, OK!"

Saturday's pre-practice prep session was interesting to go to because I've never seen a taekwondo demonstration and I certainly had no idea what sort of prep was involved.

I got there and Master and the boys were breaking wood into thin strips. I couldn't figure out what they were doing, so I asked. As soon as Master picked up two boards, I understood. They were making spacers. These boards are thinner than the boards I got to breaking in the States. Also, the boards seemed to be made of widths of wood glued together. In other words, I think they were made to break more easily, for things like demonstrations.

Master had me cut origami paper into confetti to place on top of the boards for the jumping front kicks. We chatted a bit, and I got a Eastern philosophy lesson on 선배 and 후배 and how important it is ("especially in sports," though I never found out why sports were particularly special) to keep social order. He was certainly correct; I am learning a whole new type of philosophy in this country.

I also finally saw the tiles I'd be breaking.

There was quite a bit of down time when the kids were arriving for the regular practice time. The older boys were loading up the car and Master was busy, so I was trying to keep the little kids from running around screaming. I figured I'd just speak as much Korean as possible because it distracts most of them. Crybaby asked if I'd brought any Korean books, so I got my book of fairy tales and read one of the most famous Korean fairy tales out loud. Some of the kids were just staring at me, some were helping me, and others were listening. Master walked in and just giggled as us.

Ghost Attacking the Box With a Ruler

When the rest of the group arrived, we did some regular practice then split into large groups to go to the demonstration location. (The bus driver was certainly surprised when 20 of us got on the bus together.) Brave's Brother was very sweet, trying to take care of me. "Come, Amanda, come!" What he didn't know is that I was trying to take care of some of the spacier little kids. I was paying attention, he didn't need to worry. But it was sweet of him.

I thought the practice was going to be at a church. No, it was at the place where I took black belt test, which makes me think I did understand that part of Master's original announcement! We got to the center and practiced standing up, walking, and sitting down more times that I cared to count. Why is it that any part of large group ceremony that seems to take the longest to perfect is walking?

Studiomates Walking Through the Edge of The Market

We also practiced breaking, though I only tried one tile. I was amazed when it broke into eight pieces on the floor but my hand really hurt. And my confidence was shaken when I couldn't break the board on the jumping front kick.

Practice ended at 8 pm. When we got back to the studio, Master said I could easily break four. Considering how much it hurt to break one tile, I teased, "할 수 없어요." It's impossible.

"할 수 있어요." It's possible.

"없어요."

"있어요."

"없어요."

"Amanda," he switched to English, "I think I like better when not know Korean, then you not say no!" I knew he was teasing and I burst out laughing. He laughed too and switched back to Korean, "Amanda, tomorrow, don't worry. Two or three, OK? You can do it!"

I looked skeptical but nodded and said, "Master, it's too much Korean. My head hurts a little."

He laughed, "OK, Amanda, I learn English, OK?"

I said in English, "If you learn English, then we can argue in English!"

Since we had to be to the studio at 7:50 Sunday morning, I stayed at Michael's, since he lives much closer to the studio than where I'm staying right now. (I would have had to wake up before 5 otherwise. Waking up at 6:30 on a Sunday was early enough!)

We headed to the community center decked out in our doboks. It felt very odd to be wearing a black belt. It felt funny to be one of 20 dobok-clad studiomates (nearly all of us in junior or regular black belts) on the bus. How many times are martial artists in the West commanded to "never wear your dobok or belt outside of the studio!" Here in Korea it's common to see young children running around in doboks, as well as seeing Kwanjangnims running to the corner store partially- or fully-clad in a dobok.

Clad

At the center, we practiced some more. Of course I got stared at because even with 36 people there, I stick out. Master and NewSabumnim asked me if I wanted to try breaking two tiles right there as a sort of "heart medicine." Turns out there's some over-the-counter medicine Koreans take to calm themselves down and to stop a nervous heart (두근두근 is the sound a heartbeat makes—dugeundugeun). He said if I tried breaking two, it would be like that.

So I tried breaking two tiles.

I did it and it hurt. NewSabumnim reminded me not to shake my hand and show it hurt when we were inside. Master said, "You try three inside?"

"Two."

"OK."

I managed to get a small cut on my wrist, so I ran to the bathroom to wash my hands. A young girl (maybe 5) was leaving and just stared at me. I looked at her and said, "안녕!" She just stared while a halmoni laughed. When I got into the bathroom and started washing my hands a teenaged girl stared stamping her feet and grunting and waving. "Um! Nice to meet you," she said.

I smiled and said, "We haven't met yet. What is your name?" She told me her name while her friends giggled behind her. She stuttered for a bit. I said, "What is my name?"

"Yes!"

"Amanda."

"Uh?"

"저는 아만다예요."

She asked where I was from and what I did, and even though I was careful to answer slowly and clearly, she answered every response with "uh?" so I ended up repeating myself in Korean. Then she asked in Korean if I did taekwondo.

I know she was just trying to be friendly but I thought, 'No, I'm wearing a dobok for fun.' I said yes and she asked if I had a black belt. I looked at my waist and then said yes. I finally removed myself from the situation to a chorus of byes from the girls.

I got outside and told Master, Master's Wife, and NewSabumnim what happened. They were all cracking up at my imitation of the girl pointing and stuttering.

The demonstration finally started more than an hour after it was supposed to. The first part of the demonstration consisted of all of us walking in, then meditating as a large group. That went fairly well except it was very hard to hear Grin tell us to sit down since the crowd was cheering, so we didn't all sit down at the same time. After 30 second of meditating to music, we stood up. Half of the group did a series of blocks while shouting out the names. I just learned this series less than two weeks ago and was still screwing up the last few moves, so I was happy I wasn't in that group. Then the other half did a demonstration form that we learned from NewSabumnim when she first came.

We all ran back to our places in line, and he called for the first breaking group. That was my group. I was standing in the middle of the front row. Blue broke five tiles with his elbow, then I broke my two with my knifehand strike, then Goalie broke five with his fist. Various children behind us did various hand strikes to break two boards each.

I wish I'd tried three the way Master wanted me to. What I hadn't considered is that the adrenaline from the crowd cheering, as well as my own nervousness, would make sure that I carried through. This was now my third time in less than twenty-four hours breaking tiles and this time, I did it beautifully. I wish I had pictures of it (Master does, and I'll try to get them this week). The break was a clean vertical line. I had four large hunks and two small hunks, and that was it. It was such a clean break. Also, interestingly, I didn't realize until after the whole demonstration was over that my hand hurt a little bit.

We ran back to our seats and a selection of younger kids came up to do Sam and Yuk Jang. Then the younger kids did some taekwondo to music. I was impressed. In practice they kept messing up, but when it came time for them to perform, they did a great job.

The next group did a series of jumping breaks. One of the kids in my class has to run and jump over three kids who were clumped in a triangular shape, doing alternating kicks to break their boards. Unfortunately, they didn't hold the boards up high enough and he couldn't break them, though he did manage to hit each one and make the third one fly across the room, which the audience seemed to like. Ghost then had to do an alternating right-left double kick then go into a right leg roundhouse. He didn't break the first two boards but broke the last board into three pieces.

The next group was another set of breaks. I was in this group. Cocky forgot to grab my board, and I couldn't get his attention whispering, "Cocky! Cocky! Wood, wood!" Before breaking started, Grin went down the line putting confetti on the boards. Thank goodness! That's when Cocky realized he didn't have my board, so he dashed back and got it.

This breaking series was neat to watch. There were eight pairs, practically arranged by height. First were some roundhouse kicks, then some spinning hook kicks, then some spinning jumping roundhouse kicks. The pairs went through very quickly so all you saw was some quick action and all you heard was a series of kiyaps broken with the thwacks of the boards breaking.

Meanwhile, my line of people was waiting about twenty feet away. As soon as the first group was done, the ones who had kicked picked up our boards and stood, ready for our jumping front kicks. We ran and did our jumping front kicks and since we had confetti, all you saw was paper, boards breaking, and a stream of people breaking boards. I was the last in my line to break, and I did it! I wasn't even sure if I'd broken the board but I glanced over and saw two pieces in Cocky's hand.

Then Ghost ran down the center of the performance area and did a jumping front kick off of a kid's back. He broke the board (which he hadn't been able to do in practice) and stuck his landing. I was proud of him.

We all ran back to our places, and then everyone came out one last time to salute out.

I'm not sure how Master felt about it, but from where I was sitting, it was a pretty good performance. A few breaks didn't happen, but I'm not even sure most people in the audience could tell since the kicking was so quick. Cocky forgot his board and we didn't sit down perfectly before meditation, yes, but nobody else missed or mistook their cue. The kids who'd been saying, "Yes, I understand" when they were only supposed to say "Yes!" got it right when it mattered. Nobody was injured, and the audience seemed to like it.

It was an interesting day to wear a black belt for the first time, that’s for sure.

Afterwards, outside, the older boys all dropped their pants to change. Master just shook his head and yelled, "We have cameras!" What was funnier to me is that they dropped their pants in a corner that was covered in mirrors, so anyone could see them in their underwear from multiple views. I know that there's nothing sexual about what they're doing, but they'll just drop their pants to change when I'm standing right there—or in the middle of a park like yesterday! It's something I still haven't figured out about the boys. In all fairness, though, it's not just the boys at my studio. At both the Kukkiwon and Yongin>, college and high school aged men dropped their pants to change while I was standing right there.

I caught the bus back to the studio with some of the boys and met one of their mothers. We chatted a bit, and I took some photos with the boys. Some of the kids who didn’t know my name kept talking to each other about me. “Where is The Foreigner from? How old is The Foreigner? Does The Foreigner speak Korean?”

I know they weren’t trying to be rude with “the foreigner” bit. That’s how Koreans describe anyone not Korean, and most of the times it’s not meant in a rude manner or as a slur. But I was tired of it.

I said in Korean, “I am a foreigner, yes. But my name is not ‘foreigner!’ My name is Amanda. Or I am Big Sister. OK?”

The boys looked slightly alarmed, probably because they weren’t expecting me to speak that much Korean, and probably because I was sort of scolding them. “OK, OK,” they said. “Amanda or Nuna. OK.”

Coverboy and Amanda

Back at the studio, Brave’s Brother showed me the black belt nail to hang my belt on. He watched my hang it and said, “Good job, Amanda” in English.

A few of us chowed on some gimbap (which we'd also had for breakfast). Some of the girls from the earlier class chatted with me in slow Korean and English while I knit. I gave Crybaby and a somewhat quiet but friendly blue belt girl my iPod so they could listen to U2.

NewSabumnim started asking me what things were called, and I answered her in Korean. After identifying a hat, chair, pencil, eraser, book, mirror, and window I couldn't figure out why she was literally rolling on the floor laughing. Master and his wife were laughing at me, too.

"왜요?" What?

Master explained that Sabumnim had asked me what the English words were and I'd been giving her the Korean words. Oops. I thought perhaps she was testing my vocabulary! I hadn't realized she wanted the words in English!

Master asked if I was knitting him a sweater. I'm working on a lilac colored ribbed tank top for myself. I said, "Oh, yes, Master!" I stretched the lilac ribbing over his chest and said, "It's beautiful!" He wife was laughing; he was describing how he didn't want sleeves, and maybe a nice crew neck... Then he asked if I could seriously knit him a hat. Of course I could.

In fact, months ago he asked if I could knit him a hat, but the last thing I wanted to do was knit a married man who isn't a family member any piece of clothing. Now that I know his wife and their relationship better, I would feel comfortable knitting him a hat.

NewSabumnim explored my iPod for Korean music, Master asked me to make him a CD of English-language music. The girls watched me knit and asked how I did it. I showed them how the fabric looks different depending on which side you're looking at. Everyone was doing their own thing but chatting and joking and it was just...nice.

Master hadn’t seemed disappointed with me and the fact that I’d only broken two, but I wanted to apologize to him for not believing that I could have broken three tiles, which I now think was possible.

"Master, I broke two. Next time I'll believe you. I’ll listen and do three.”

"I know, Amanda, OK!” He smiled, “Next time, you’ll do three. Or four. Or five.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, “No, no. I know Amanda. You not know. Now you know. It’s OK.”

Master asked me out to Outback with his family, Helmet (who'd been babysitting) and NewSabumnim. I've only eaten at Outback once here, with a family who had lived in the States for a while and ordered for each person, so I was amused to be eating at Outback (which Koreans seem to think of as the epitome or Western food) in a communal Korean style.

When Master ordered a salad that I'd chosen for us, the waitress ("Alice") asked what sort of dressing I wanted. She started listing them and once she got into the pure Korean ones, I was lost. I looked at Master. He looked at me. We both burst out laughing.

Lunch itself was fine. I was sitting across from Master and next to NewSabumnim. She kept trying to get me to eat more and I pinched her hip and said, "No, I'll be fat, remember?" I pinched her hip a few times to get her back for Thursday night, which felt good. She asked why I didn't like seafood. I said, "Master, remember I told you the fish story?"

"Yes."

"Please tell her."

"Ah! OK!" Master told her the story for me. I don't have the vocabulary to tell that story to people who aren't used to the way I speak, and I like it when Master retells stories I know because then I can understand and focus more on sentence structure and vocabulary that I'm hearing.

At one point only Master and his wife and I were at the table. He started telling me about the various places that NewSabumnim has been and that she’s very well known. I’ve watched her. She’s good, but it’s still going to take me some time to feel like she’s not an intruder. I will say, it’s nice to have someone else older in the studio.

Somehow we got going on names and I told Master that I still couldn't remember his name. I shrugged, "You're Kwanjangnim."

"OK, Amanda, in studio, Kwanjangnim. When drinking soju, my name. Or Kwanjangnim."

"OK, Kwanjangnim."

NewSabumnim laughed and said, "There are a lot of kwanjangnims in Korea."

"Not to me! I only have one! Kwanjangnim!" I pointed to him.

She laughed and started faking me, yelling at people in Korean that there is only one Kwanjangnim in Korea.

Master asked how I was going to introduce my parents to him. I joked, "Mom, this is Kwanjangnim. Kwanjangnim, this is Mom."

Master says my mom and stepdad have good names, only three or four beats when you leave out their middle names. He especially likes my stepdad's name, though he can't say "George" correctly.

Master teaches SCUBA for half of the year and asked me if I knew how to dive. I said no, I’d never tried it. He asked me if I was interested in learning. Months ago, when I found out that he taught SCUBA, my interest was piqued, but I didn’t think much of it. It’s one thing to learn taekwondo from him with our limited language, it’s another to learn something where there’s the risk of drowning.

Master has a 후배 who speaks English very well. She taught in Australia for a while, in fact. So Master told me “wait.” He’s going to talk to her. Perhaps I’ll be getting some certifications this summer. It is certainly something I never thought about before.

Then again, almost ten months ago I wasn’t really interested in getting a black belt and now I have no reason to believe I won't test for second dan.

It’s great weekends like this one that make me sure that right now Korea is the perfect place for me to be.