Amanda Takes Off...

A few days ago, I was taking photos of something when two young guys ran past and sneaked behind someone's gate. Turns out they were some of my studiomates, as we were all on our way to class. I walked to class while they ran, jumped, darted about. Eventually, a third studiomate joined them.

Hiding

Escaping

Running

Jumping

Twirling

Climbing

All photos were adjusted and given the "direct positive" treatment in Lightroom. "Jumping" and "Twirling" are out of focus because he was so darn close to the lens. "Climbing" is out of focus because they were moving. Still, sometimes a blurry photo works.

I wasn't feeling well, so I accidentally napped through tonight's class ㅠㅠ, but I talked to Master last night about next week's second dan black belt test. We'll meet at the studio at noon, and the test is at three. Since it's on a Friday, none of my friends can come. It's a bit weird to me that I've tested for belt after belt in South Korea and nobody outside of the studio has seen it. On the one hand, I wish my family (and Good Man) could have seen one or both of the black belt tests. On the other hand, it's sort of fitting that nobody's really seen it. So much of my life in South Korea has been about discovering how independent I can be.

Next week Master will test me on the forms and my kicking. I nodded. I am not nearly as nervous this year as I was last year. I was so afraid of being spoken to in Korean by strangers, of going to the wrong place at the wrong time. Since I know what to expect this year, I'm not as afraid. It's not cockiness...it's that the fear of the unknown has been largely stripped away.

Last night's class was good. While the non-testing boys worked on kicking drills, those of us testing worked on poomse for a bit. I was working with Amanda Eonni while she was working on chil jang. When it came time to turn from the scissors block into grabbing the opponent's shoulders, her hands were way up in the hair, like straight above her.

I lowered her hands. "어깨." Shoulders. I didn't know how to say "invisible person," so I did the best I could. "사람 안 보여?" You can't see the person? She laughed and corrected herself.

On the backfist strike part she was creating a huge arc over her head, an exaggerated version of the hammer fist that starts of oh jang. I corrected her form. Multiple times. When she finally understood, she gave me a huge hug.

When did she get so tall?

When I started at the studio, only one or two boys were taller than me. Now almost all of the high school boys are taller than me. The elementary school students have shot up like weeds. When I first started training, Master's Daughter never spoke to me, and Master's Son couldn't walk. Now they run out into the living room together when they hear my voice, his daughter and son yelling, "아만다아아아아!"

In my 19 months here in South Korea, the only constant thing has been this studio. The students have changed over time, some of my favorites I haven't seen in months (Powerful! Cocky! Blue, and my little brother Ghost!), there are new ones I've grown to adore. But Master's family I've only grown closer to. I am really going to miss it—them—when I leave in less than 4 months.