My parents are not too enthusiastic about my trip abroad since they are both scared for my safety. My mom is especially scared for me. She thinks that I might be kidnapped or murdered. Another fear they have is that I may fall in love with the country so much that I’ll never come back again. Coincidentally, my mom took a similar path when she was my age. I always saw my mom as the black sheep of her family ever since hearing her story. But really she is the bravest of all of them. In a conservative Taiwanese family and being the youngest girl, she was treated like the runt of the siblings.
Her father was particularly hard on her. I even heard he had a list, called The List of My Biggest Disappointments. The first and only thing on that list was my mom’s defying action: Moving to the U.S. After graduating from college, my mom picked up her life in Taiwan and traveled to the United States all by herself. Despite the severe ramifications placed upon her by her family, she received her MBA, bought her own condominium, and had a stable and lucrative job as an accountant before the age 25. It was through work how she met my dad. Hmm, work relationships. We all know how that goes sometimes. She dated my dad for over a year before they got married. This was another point on my grandfather’s disappointment list: Married a White Guy. At one point, my mom joked that when her sister got a divorce she felt a small sense of relief. Finally she didn’t feel alone, since she now shared a spot on that list with her sister. I don’t think I was supposed to divulge that information. Sorry Mom…
Despite her obsessive paranoia of everything imaginable, my mom is actually very courageous. To even go against her family’s wishes and make these significant decisions on her own is difficult at such a young age. I think her independence and perseverance are valued characteristics she possesses, one that her family members probably don’t embody as well. I feel like my mom in this way. I feel independent and strong. Though going against my parents’ initial wishes, I am making decisions and financing my trip on my own (except for the silly Japanese Encephalitis vaccine). And I know my parents do support me to an extent.
Now after that reflective and sentimental tangent, one of the ways to prevent my parents from having a heart attack is to learn to defend myself—one of the many ways I can be independent. My dad was the one that brought up the idea of self-defense. I thought it was a great idea. It was something I have always been interested in trying out. So I went online and tried to find a somewhat cheap place to learn self-defense in Orange County. I quickly learn about the self-defense fighting system, Krav Maga. Their class schedule and price seemed very reasonable for my expectations. I only planned to take self-defense classes for about a month and they offered an inexpensive plan that allowed me to take 5 classes within a month. But despite my whole independent revelation, I did want company for this class. So I asked my good friend Lacey to join me.
We both arrived to our first class. Surprisingly we found out that this first class would be the free trial run. Score! 6 classes for the price of 5! After signing a waiver release form, we walked into the gym area to start stretching. When observing the gym, we noticed that most of the fighters were large, hefty men, some of which who were intensely destroying the surrounding punching bags and making savage grunting noises that echoed within the small room reeking of sweat and probably blood.
The instructor came into the gym and asked us all to line up on the back wall. There was a mirror right across from us so we were able to observe our fierce fighting techniques and observe how small we were in comparison to most of the other fighters. Of course, not only did Lacey and I stand out because of our seemingly muscular and powerfully built figures but mostly because we were wearing bright neon blue outfits. Everyone else was in black or grey.
After the initial warm up and stretch, the instructor asked us to run around and hit each other in the head and stomach. Lacey and I had no idea what to do. While giggling most of the time, we ran around trying to follow his instructions. I was continuously getting hit in the head, both failing to defend myself and attack others. One very aggressive and much bigger woman kept punching me in the stomach. Lacey was more aggressive than I. But she was more focused on her offense than her defense. The burly woman came up to her and repeatedly smacked her in the stomach and head while screaming, “Defend yourself! Defend yourself!” This woman also made some very interesting grunting noises throughout the class (those of which I shall not attempt to type out). At this point, we both felt incompetent and undersized for this class.
Next, we participated in a partner activity that required us to take turns choking each other. A good way to blow off some steam, right? While one partner choked the other, the other partner used a quick approach to get out of the choke hold. Krav Maga calls one of the defending techniques, the Monkey Grip. This grip is when you put your hands up near your head (as if you are a monkey climbing a fence maybe) and quickly sweep downwards towards the attacker’s thumbs (the weakest part of their hold) to remove their hands from your body. They also emphasized the importance of being quick rather than strong. This is definitely my forté—being quick. I am actually widely known for my quick reactions. Though this may be more of a self-acclaimed notion, my quickness has always gotten me out of sticky situations. Don’t worry; I’ve never used these powers for evil. For example, people always laugh when I tell them I play volleyball. They usually state, “But don’t you have to be tall to play.” And I respond by informing them about my Ninja quickness and then also remind them that I’m Asian (enough said, right?). Additionally, I had a science professor become completely astonished when I performed in his study on human reaction times. I completely surpassed all his recent studies and I even surprised myself.
Regardless of my distinguished quickness and Lacey’s aggressiveness, Lacey and I were not good at choking others. We were very prissy when choking one another since we were afraid of hurting each other. We thought we were doing such a great job getting out of choke holds until the instructor came by and showed us how it’s really done. Without warning, he quickly wrapped his hands around my neck and started squeezing tightly. My body went into shock as he pressed his thumbs into my windpipe and began to push my body backwards. Without thinking (or actually with thinking my life was in danger), I put up my Monkey Grip and tore his hands away from my neck as quickly as possible. With my initial success and light-headed state of mind, I eagerly pointed to Lacey and exclaimed, “Choke Lacey! Choke Lacey!” realizing how effective your technique becomes when someone is really choking you. Practicing with Lacey probably wasn’t as beneficial since I don’t think there will be too many Lacey’s out there attacking me in Thailand.
After the free trial, Lacey and I enjoyed our experience with Krav Maga so much that we signed up for the month. Just within one class, we had gathered some good defensive techniques and very red and swollen necks. Next week, we went through some of the same activities--except we both were more aggressive and confident. While attacking each other (or attacking the pads we were holding), we both had different scripts to help motivate each other. As I would aggress Lacey, I would bring back those vivid and gloomy memories of her beloved deceased fish, Lucky. As I attacked her I would scream, “How did it feel when Lucky died? I killed Lucky! What are you going to do now?!?” After provoking her more vulnerable and sensitive side, she would knee or kick me as hard as she could in the groin (or the pad I was holding in that place). And then with me, she would yell, “I am a Thai rapist and I’m going to get you!” And again, I would furiously kick her in the groin or pad—whatever was most accessible.
Knowing that our prissy attacks on each other weren’t as effective, we switched to male partners at times. Unfortunately, they sweat a lot more than we did (since we glisten…right Lacey?) and the idea of showering has never been as appealing. And showering has never really been my strong suit.
After just couple classes, Lacey and I are becoming pro-defenders and even proficient attackers. We have even attempted practicing our moves at home, which haven’t been the best of ideas. Foolishly, we have been so excited about our new set of skills that we have been announcing to everyone to choke us even in the more professional setting (while working at our restaurant) or the more dangerous setting (at a party when people are drinking excessively). Don’t try this at home.
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