Burning Mugwort

"What are you writing?"

My face instantly flushes. Twenty minutes into my first acupuncture appointment, I discover the doctor speaks fluent English. "Notes... about things," I respond, flustered. "It's a good habit," he replies. 

So, yes, I'd checked myself into an office with the expectation of being stuck with needles by a doctor with whom I share few common words. I blame my co-teacher, Younga, who first mentioned the popularity and benefits of getting an acupuncture treatment, though she'd never experienced it herself. Frequent gripes over our poor sinuses lead us to the Oriental Medicine Hospital, where we now sit and list our problems. While Younga carries on her consultation in Korean, I take notes in my planner: the office is stunningly nice, it smells like the jimjilbang, and there's a sculpture on the doctor's desk that looks like a mound of earwax. 

The doctor's English skills put me at ease, considering that the first online recommendation I read prior to the appointment stated, "You'll want to know that the practitioner you decide upon is someone whom you can talk to easily. After all, it's the acupuncturist's job to communicate well with you in order to treat you effectively." He confirms, "Your problem is chronic, all your life! This will help", and then leads Younga and me to a room filled with hospital beds and curtains. Younga throws me an anxious glance and we crawl into our respective beds. 

Nurses draw the curtains, and I hear Younga whimper as the doctor begins her treatment. Though she first casually suggested trying acupuncture, I insisted upon it. I also assured her that it wouldn't hurt, since thousands of people have done it for thousands of years. (In fact, I recommend this summary from the University of Maryland, in case you're interested to learn more: http://www.umm.edu/altmed/articles/acupuncture-000345.htm). Finding myself, once again, second in line to a friend suffering through a Korean health treatment, I breathe deeply and wait. 

Soon enough, the doctor swings back the curtain and swiftly taps twelve or so tiny needles into my face and hands. Minimal discomfort results, so I calmly rest under the warmth of the heat lamp placed over my bed. Through the curtain, Younga asks, "Are you okay? Do you want to do another oriental treatment after this one? It is included in the payment". For only 8,000 won, I can get an acupuncture treatment and an unspecified 'other' oriental treatment?! This place is heaven. I agree. 

After twenty minutes or so, the needles are removed, and we proceed upstairs for our bonus treatment. This time, we're placed in a more cramped two-bed room with a small table displaying a blow torch and two wooden buckets filled with herbs. The nurse explains the procedure to Younga, who relays to me, "These herbs are called 'mugwort'. She will light them on fire, and you will hold the bucket on your stomach while they burn. It is good for many things". Simple enough! We slide up our shirts, lay towels over our stomachs to protect them from ash, and enjoy the pleasant smell and warmth for the next half hour. 

I leave the office feeling calm, light-headed, and ready for an evening at Korean language class. Korean class is, incidentally, going well! I can read the alphabet now, so I'm having frequent flashbacks to kindergarten. Sounding out words is my newest hobby! (<That's what I keep telling myself to prevent discouragement. It's working so far). 

사 랑  (love)

 Bethany

PS- Apologies to anyone who read this blog hoping that "Mugwort" was a Harry Potter reference. You'll have to look elsewhere. 

PPS- Since posting this earlier today, I went back for the second appointment! When I walked in the door, the doctor said, "Where have you been?!". I missed the memo that two treatments a week is expected for four to five weeks. Ah well! I made up for it with acupuncture, burning mugwort, AND A MASSAGE! A real one! It was included in the 8,000 won price, and I will certainly return twice a week for treatments. I'm in a state of bliss!