I continued through the routine, moving from knees to elbows and back to kicks, dodging Somsak’s return blows and occasionally scoring a solid hit that sent him sprawling. He announced this change in strategy by giving me a sneaky knee to the ribs, which caught me solidly enough to make me wince. In round three, I had about 10 good repetitions before Somsak switched to practicing blows with the knees. Seth! Let’s go!” cried Nu, a 10-year-old Thai girl who practiced Muay Thai with Somsak and loved watching my fights. Now, after two rugged rounds of sparring, Somsak clapped his pads again, a slight smile softening his otherwise stern demeanor. Still, Somsak informed me with all seriousness, and even a touch of glee, that he had in fact sent an adversary to the hospital for two weeks. Thailand is a Theravadist Buddhist country: Children at my school vow each morning to be dutiful and obedient, and the people are known worldwide for their gentle smiles. He showed me the proper way to do something by actually doing it to me, not taking into account the fact that I wore no pads and that I usually had no idea he was about to hit me. He then swung my leg through the correct arc, but I was unable to maintain my balance and ended up in a sweaty heap on the floor.ĭespite the language barrier, in time Somsak proved to be a very effective coach. Somsak grabbed my right leg and held it straight, telling me to stand on my tip-toes with my left foot. I started by giving my best imitation of a Van Damme kick, which elicited a series of friendly laughs from the assembly of students eagerly watching the foreigner trying out their national sport. Clapping these two together with a sharp snap, he looked at me with a devilish glimmer in his eyes. He strapped a large red pad around his waist and fitted two smaller blue cushions to his forearms. During my initial introductions, I discovered that the extent of Somsak’s English was limited mostly to boxing terms. It all started with an innocent request from one of my students, Jayin, who asked me to come and learn Muay Thai with him after school. This was the man who was teaching me Muay Thai, a form of kickboxing unique to Thailand and considered an expression of national pride. He was a former middleweight champion, and with his boxing shorts hiked up high and a fading Beer Singha T-shirt, he was a living, breathing, toughened-up Thai version of the trainer from Rocky. Dark-skinned, with a fading tattoo of a dragon covering one shoulder, his past exploits in the boxing arena were clearly etched into both his body and his pride. I definitely didn’t feel like going for round three. Now I was hanging on the ropes, sweat pouring off me. Though his weathered face and sagging belly betrayed his age of 50-odd years, his limbs were rock-solid. I was spent, rounds one and two having totaled eight minutes of full-on kicks and robust punches. The hulking Thai man clapped his boxing pads together and repeated loudly, “Round three! Come on!”
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