There's no such thing as a free accupuncture session.

I started working out about a month ago and my body doesn't seem to like it as much as I'd hoped. Sure, I've seen results: increased energy, deeper sleep, biceps the size of SPAM cans... well, that's an exaggeration, but a healthier life is better a life.

After the second week in my 4 day a week workout rotation, I noticed a strain in my neck. A dull muscle strain, nothing serious, just a sign that I should easy up and stretch better. At a dinner later that week, I told a friend who is a doctor at the campus clinic about the soreness and she said that she had a rememdy. Feeling adventurous, I wanted to give it a shot.

So, bright and early on a Sunday (11:00am usually is bright and early on a Sunday morning for me) I awoke and went to the clinic. Sitting before Su Min were packages of 12 individually sealed needles, a set of small baby food jars, an oil lamp, cotton swabs, surgical tweezers, and rubbing alcohol. What does she have in mind?

In Chinese she asked me where the pain was and I motioned to my neck and said, "Right side." She used some icy-hot type medicine to loosen the muscle and then began to massage my neck. This traditional medicine is great! I thought. After 10 minutes or so, she started to unpack the needles.

With a gentle, dart throwing motion, she pushed the needle into my neck. The muscle tensed up, but it felt good, like a deep muscle massage. She placed 10 more on various pressure points on my neck, one in each elbow, one near the pinky tendon (the thing that prevents one from giving someone the 'ring finger' without the pinky rising to attention as well), and one into the meat between the thumb and index finger of both my hands.

I was immoble. I could not raise my head to make eye contact with her and my hands were beginning a strange numbness - like they were falling asleep, but the pins and needle feelings were real. It was not painful, just a dull soreness.

With a heat lamp warming the needles, thus warming the blood, thus opening the veins for increased flow, they stayed in for about 20 minutes. Su Min was making small talk with me and trying to practice her English. I understood about 60% of what she was saying in basic CHinese, but I guess the thrill for her was not the procedure, but a captive audience.

I sat there, like a enert pincushion. Then, a group of female nurses arrived to witness this spectacle. Suddenly, this became like a show, or a zoo, I'm not sure which. I heard hushed mumbling and the word "wai guo ren" (foreigner) a few times so I knew they were talking about me. They asked Su Min questions about me and then turned to the specimen for live responses.

"Ah. Ah? Where? Ah. Where? Ah. Where do you come-a from-a?" asked a brave nurse. Frustrated at the scenario, I replyed a gruff, "USA." My tone did nothing to sway them.

"Ah. What. What. Ah? What? What is you-a name?" she persisted. "Paul. Hai shi, Wei Bao Luo." I said, hoping that they would take my feeble Chinese as a sign that they could continue the inquisition in their native tounge - which I was more like to understand than slow English.

"Yes. I can use chopsticks." I said in response. ... ... "Yes, Chinese women are very beautiful." ... ... ... "No, I'm not married."

Don't get me wrong, I am a patient person who wished to help them practice English. I've had to coax more questions out of shy speakers than I'd care to remember, but this time... I was really frustrated and thought about freaking out, falling asleep, or getting up and running out of the room. Oh...wait. I've got needles in my neck.

This continued for about 10 minutes. Su Min was happy because after I stopped answering the nurses English questions, she was able to play translator for me to them. I was happy because I could see Su Min when she talked to me, unlike the hoarde that had assembled behind my back.

Moral of the story: There's no such thing as a free accupuncture session.
Moral of the story #2: When in Asia, make a shirt with: your country of origin, two basic emotions (good/bad) and yes/no. This way you can point to your shirt in moments of frustration. Oh... wait. I've got needles in my hands, too.