A Bruised Bum, And Ego, In Bangkok

[Taggart]

18/11/06

A BRUISED BUM, AND EGO, IN BANGKOK

JASON VOLKER

Special to The Globe and Mail

BANGKOK -- There I was, rolling on the canvas, clutching at a whopping dead-leg, with a petite, pony-tailed girl triumphantly standing over me, giggling. But wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. The beginning of the day was actually much worse.

"Let's start with a basic kicking technique," says Charlee Kultharee, former kickboxing champion and head instructor at the Muay Thai Institute in Bangkok. "But be careful you don't. . ."

I impulsively fling a leg high into the air, then crumple in a heap.

". . .slip."

The 12-year-old to my right is struggling to keep a straight face. His seven-year-old brother is bent over with laughter. It's times like these that a redeeming, witty one-liner comes in handy.

"Ouch!" I say, massaging a bruised buttock.

I've had a soft spot for Asian martial arts ever since I saw my first Jackie Chan movie as a teenager. So when asked if I would like to spend a day under the expert tutelage of Master Charlee, a bona-fide national hero who once held five championship belts at Lumphini Stadium, the hallowed home of Thai kickboxing, I jumped at the chance.

"Okay, now try your moves on the heavy bag," Charlee instructs. "Hup!" (Turns out this is kickboxing's equivalent of "mush.")

Thud! Thwack! Aaarrgghh! Hamstring! Not! Good! The pint-sized lad next to me cheekily rolls his eyes as I slump like a limp Muppet into the nearest chair.

"You must be lionhearted to succeed at muay thai," the master shouts to his pupils. I roar to life and slug the bag at least two more times before calling for refreshments.

"You kick like a child," the missus cracks as she passes a water bottle.

"A really tough child," I contest.

It was at this moment that the eye-rolling lad next to me offered a bottle of yellowish ooze. I thanked him and rubbed the yellowish ooze into my hamstrung hammie. I knew boxer's liniment when I saw it.

Unfortunately, what I didn't know is that I'm allergic to boxer's liniment. It was also news to me that liniment in Thailand smells like the spray emitted from a durian-eating skunk, only much smellier.

Before calling it a day, Master Charlee thought it might be amusing to watch me spar with the petite, pony-tailed girl. While obviously an absurd mismatch, I summoned all my courage and agreed to the bout.

A quick "sizing up" of my opponent revealed the following: Though petite and pony-tailed, this young lady was clearly well-schooled in the art of kneeing and elbowing (particularly kneeing). And though she smiled often and chuckled a lot, I sensed a slight chip about her shoulder region.

I mention this in the hope of explaining why, after just 90 seconds of fisticuffs, I found myself squirming on the canvas. To sum up, I finished the day with a bruised butt, a swollen shin from walloping the heavy bag, one gimpy hamstring, a glowing, stinking rash on that hammie, and the mother-of-all dead legs. What I failed to procure was any kickboxing ability.

To every red-blooded male out there, I apologize.

[cobra]

Well, quit fighting with girls,

[Sing_Sling]

. . . you are clearly a lilly-livered, jelly-spined . . . whatever.

Nice writing style.

[Little Black Duck]

Ah takes me back... Mum always said Dont play with Girls...

Between the Boozers and the Gyms man could end up a mess..

Beginning to see what she meant..

[steveromagnino]

Good effort for having a go.

kickboxing is NOT muay Thai; they are unrelated; kickboxing is what Americans think of when they watch C grade martial arts films with kicks and stuff borrowed from various arts and combined with Valley accents and bad soundtracks.

Real Muay Thai has nothing about 'hup' it is 'aeeeesh' and other fun sounds.

Certainly, not the worst 'new reporter discovers the wonders of somewhere outside of the fashionable meat packing district - the locals are kind of crazy but friendly' article. I am sure it would be great fodder for Sawasdee inflight magazine, which is full of articles like this.