Amanda Takes Off...

"OK, have you ever written a check?" I ask Good Man. Checks don't exist in South Korea. Well, "bank checks," which are basically bills bigger than 10,000 won exist, but not checks as we have them in America.

"Um...no."

"OK, so first put the date and name, then the amount..." I watch him and point, "You need to include the decimal-zero-zero for the cents."

Good Man looks at me, "But there are no cents."

"Right, that's why you put zeros. Now, put the amount in written words.... And then write 00/100s and draw a horizontal line."

Good Man lifts his pen from the page and stares at me. "Huh?"

"Like this," I show him on some scratch paper.

Good Man sighs, "Why? This is crazy!"

"Because you don't want people to steal the check and change numbers and stuff."

"This is stupid. America should just do bank transfer like in Korea."

I laugh and agree with him. I love bank transfers, and I wish America would switch to that method.

"So we were driving through the City, and there was the most brilliant rainbow I've ever seen. It was a full arc, huge, beautiful. [Good Man] was shooting photos through the window while I was driving."

Mark asked, "Did the rainbow stop at the Capitol Building with a pot of $700 billion worth of gold?"

We all laughed. "That's going on the blog," I said.

Hope There's a Big Pot of Gold Waiting

Yesterday Good Man and I went to Johnny and Ashley's, where we met Mark and Mark's Lover. Johnny's family is moving to another state soon, so this was our last chance to see them for a while. Ahh, we were sad, as Liam hasn't even learned to call us 고모 and 고모부 yet ("father's sister" and "father's sister's husband").

We ate Chinese food, watched Blood Diamond, and just chatted a whole lot. Good Man learned a lot of slang. A lot of slang I hope he never uses...

Taekwondo Man in Training
Kwanjangnim's Family Gave Liam this Shirt, so It's Appropriate

"Will we go soon? I don't want to be late."

I look at Good Man. "Half the time, in Korea, you were still asleep when you were supposed to be at my apartment."

Good Man gives me a half grin. "Yeah, but...um..." He stares at the ceiling, thinking.

I know what he's thinking, so I say it. "'Yeah, but, um, this is America. Not Korea.'"

Good Man cocks his forefinger and points it at me. "Yeah, you are right!"

"I know you."

Eleven years ago I bought some wooden clogs (made in Sweden) at Marshall's for $25.

Those things have been handy while driving my stick, because I can't move my toes. I can't really feel the clutch well either, but...

I went to the foot doctor today because I wasn't really happy with the way that the regular doctor handled (read: ignored) me and my toe. Since I've fractured bones in that foot before, and since I've had knee problems, I wanted to see an actual foot doctor.

Foot Doctor, who was rather young and attractive in a Republican way, looked at my foot and said, "I don't think I've ever seen a bruise such a perfect round shape before..."

I scrunched up my face. "Ahh, yes, that's because I had buhang, traditional Chinese bloodletting, done last night."

Foot Doctor slowly raised his head to look at me. "You had what?"

"Um do you know what cupping is? Blood cupping."

He shook his head, "No..."

It was pouring rain last night, so I picked Good Man up from school. Afterwards we went and bought rice (a 20 lb bag! We're moving on up in the Asian cooking world!) and then swung by my studio to show School Head my toe.

That. Was a mistake.

"Amanda, you know buhang? We do that."

I looked horrified and switched to Korean, "아니에요! 부항 많이 아파요!" No! Buhang really hurts!

"No, Amanda, why you whine? You want to heal faster, right? You are strong, right [Good Man]? Buhang, good?"

Good Man laughed. He's never had buhang before, "I don't know, I've never tried it."

After several minutes of back-and-forthing, School Head said, "Well how about acupuncture, you like?"

"Oh!" I brightened, "I love acupuncture!"

"OK, come into my office. You go doctor, pay $80 for acupuncture, I do it for free."

We went into his office. He made a show of looking for the needles while I took off my shoes. "Oh, I can't find them," he said, "So we'll do buhang."

Tricked!

I stared at Good Man. Buhang hurt the last time it was done. He opened up his buhang kit and I noticed it had a sticker on it from the Korean market.

He sterilized everything, took out a thin needle gun and pricked my skin 5 times. He stuck a bell on it, pumped the air out of the bell, and watched the blood come out of my bruise. (Photos on the next page.)

"Oh, very good, now you will get healthy sooner."

"Kwanjangnim," I said, "Next time I get injured, I will stay home, I think."

To his credit, it didn't hurt.

Walking to the car Good Man said, "You whine but I think you kind of like it."

"No. But yes. Because...um..."

"Because he would not do that to foreign student, but you are Korean," Good Man said, "See? I know you."

Pages: 1 · 2

I talked to my father tonight.

This is not Other Dad Stuff.

This is Other Dad Stuff Plus ?.

I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do. The doctors are telling me (and Grandpa, and my brother) nothing.

I'm terrified.