I've Been Cupped!

4.29.2009

In my last blog about living in the Wu, I mentioned that my masseuse asked me if I wanted to get "cupped" to help my cold and cough. I would guess that most people don't know what this is exactly; it is an ancient Eastern practice. The only time I know that people in the West were talking about it was when Gwyneth Paltrow exposed a few "cupping marks" at a premiere about 8 years ago.

Sixiao had done it once shortly after she arrived in Beijing-- she sent me pictures of her back afterward and I was mortified. It looked really painful. She assured me it was useful. I remained skeptical.

When my masseuse asked me the other night, I began to say no, but then stopped to consider. My cold & cough was actually extra bothersome since I am now back in the classroom-- running a phonetic class for survival level students isn't exactly easy when everything you say comes out with a nasal tone and pausing to cough between every instruction isn't desirable, either. Curiosity also played a factor in my considering. I was curious about the process, how it would feel, and mostly if it would be at all effective. Even if it didn't work, though, I thought to myself, "Hey it's China. I'll try anything once. Why not?" With that mentality, the last but not least of my deciding factors was: "Duo shao qian?" (How much money?)

"San shi," he said. (30 RMB/$4).

"Hao de. Yao." (Good. I want it).

He left the room and came jingling back in a few minutes later pushing a cart overflowing with round glass jars, like the ones on the right.

He pulled a curtain shut and asked me to remove my shirt and lay face down. "Keyi ma?" (Alright?)

Once I was lying face down, he unsnapped my bra [Yes, this was awkward. I reprimanded myself for not thinking to do this] and rubbed some kind of oil or lotion up and down my back. After I was oiled up, I heard the click of a lighter as he prepared the first cup. I felt it leech on. I tensed up.

"Tong ma?" (Hurt?) he asked.

"Yi dian dian," (A little) I replied. He took the cup, now suctioned onto my skin, and glided it up and down, down and up. He repeated this process with 3 different cups.

During my full body massage just before this, my stuffy nose had been getting extra stuffy as I laid face down, coughing sporadically through the hole of the massage table. After the second "gliding" cup my nose was completely clear & my urge to cough had disappeared. I was amazed, but still skeptical. Could this really work?

Once the gliding portion was finished, I heard him prepare another cup and stuck it firmly on my lower back. Then another. So it went --cup, flame, suck! cup, flame, suck!-- until there were 15 glass cups sticking to my back and shoulders. Some hurt more than others as some had a tighter vacuum and some has less skin to suck onto (like on my shoulder blade). With all cups strategically in place, he lay a blanket over me and my 15 new appendages and left the room.

It is hard to describe the feeling of 15 glass jars pulling on your skin simultaneously. Okay, not hard to describe-- impossible to describe. The best way I can explain it is that it almost feels as though you have 15 glass jars pulling on your skin simultaneously.

After an intense 10 or 15 minutes, my guy came back into the room. He proceeded to remove each cup by pushing down on the skin next to the cups and sliding his finger under the rim until it came off with a pop! I was told to lay there for a few more minutes and was given hot tea to sip on. After my tea was finished, I was told I could get dressed and go home, but to make sure I didn't shower or bathe that night. (No clue why).

My back felt a little tender and I figured I'd be bruised by the next day. When I got home and looked in the mirror, though, I saw this:


Instantaneous bruises!! I couldn't believe it. Way darker than I had envisioned, too.

For the next few days, I couldn't sleep on my back or even sit back in a chair. Did it cure my cold and cough? Nope. I was left with the cold, cough, 15 bruises, and the inability to wear any tanktops in public. My friend asked me if I regretted doing it. I replied that the experience was cool, but it was the bruising that sucked! [Then I realized it was also the sucking that bruised]. While I have no regrets it is definitely something I would do once and only once!

The West Side

4.28.2009

“You live ALL the way out in Wudaokou?”

“Damn, your apartment is really far away.”

“Are you in town tonight?” [In town? WDK doesn’t count as being ‘in town’?]

Such is heard from the East Siders of Beijing all the time. I wouldn’t say there is a rivalry between the West side, where I live, and the East side of Beijing; the two sides are too different to really compare. [I do sense a slight air of snobby pride coming from the East Siders though]. There are definitely more neighborhoods and pockets that dot the East side where foreigners reside & play. If you live on the West side of the city, however, there is a 98% chance you live in Wudaokou. [Collin and I belonged to that rare 2% last year, by residing in a purely Chinese, incredibly random ‘hood].

The East side caters more to the young professional crowd, while WDK is clearly known for hosting the student population, as nearly every major university is in the area. As mentioned, there isn’t much argument as to which side is “better”—if you are a young business person, the CBD (Central Business District) would better suit you, if you are a student, WDK is obviously the place to be.

Wherever foreigners gather & live, East or West, surrounding businesses naturally cater to them. In the well known expat 'hoods, businesses like bars, cafes, a variety of Western and international restaurants, boutiques, and shopping malls flourish. With all of this also comes inflated prices, but with the East side catering more to young professionals AND tourists, prices there range from expensive to outrageous. Assuredly there are overpriced places in the Wu as well [I am sipping on a 28 RMB ($4) blended coffee right now] but even the pricier places know to give the student crowd what they want: discounts & happy hours. After living here for about a month, one memorizes which establishments offer discounted food and drinks on various days and at various times. For example, Monday evenings you can get 2 tacos for 5 RMB (75 cents) at our favorite watering hole that pretends to be a Mexican restaurant. [The tacos are small and not good at all, but who cares if you can eat dinner for $1.50?] Every Tuesday you will find my friend David and I stuffing our faces with delicious 2 for 1 sub sandwiches at a local sports bar. If you don’t mind drinking with masses of students and listening to awful hip-hop music (and you are a female), on Wednesday nights you can imbibe unlimited amounts of alcohol for 50 RMB ($7) at the local club. Thursdays from 2-4pm—if you are fortunate enough not to be trapped at work—you can get outstanding burgers for only 15 RMB ($2) at a local pub/cafe. And every day from 2-4 am, if you are lucky (or maybe unlucky enough) to be awake still, the burgers are also 15 RMB. [They knowingly call this the Drunk Munchy Special—don’t even bother on Friday & Saturdays]. There are happy hours nearly every night at nearly every place with specials like 5 RMB pints of Tsingtao & 10 RMB mixed drinks.

Offers like these generally do not exist on the East side. I suppose this is an argument for the West. One thing we West Siders definitely lack is quality restaurants, though, especially international foods. If you want good food from other countries, you have to venture to the East, and you have to pay for it. I just read a review about a new place in the heart of Sanlitun (the most popular East side expat spot) that serves amazing pho. I was watering at the mouth—I strangely haven’t found decent Vietnamese ever in this city. Then I read that one bowl of pho is 58 RMB ($8). That is outrageous. I wouldn’t pay that in the States! But that’s how these places get you—you crave decent pho/tapas/burritos/curry/nan/sushi enough to wear you break down and pay the over inflated prices.

A downside of living in the Wu is that it really does feel like living a world away from the rest of the city—making the journey to the East is timely and sometimes expensive. You get stuck in the comfortable little Wu bubble & start to run into the same people all of the time. This is both good and bad, but it does eventually get old. Sometimes you see some fresh East Side friends' faces, but for some reason East Siders have this constant expectation that you will venture to their side to hang out, but never, ever come out here. And when they do it is a BIG deal for them. With one trip out, they feel as if they have fulfilled their “West Side Quota” for at least 6 months. “Come out to the Wu!” we say. “But I was just there!” they say. “What? That was 4 months ago!”

Despite the Wu being a small bubble of 18-21 year olds floating in the far reach of Beijing, it is still a wonderful place to live. Last night five of us feasted on chwar (barbeque meat on a stick) and a plethora of amazing noodle and veggie dishes and washed it all down with beers while sitting out on a patio enjoying the warm spring night. We were ridiculously full and only paid 20 RMB ($3) each. Afterward, we all walked home together, as we live within 1-3 minutes of each other. I decided to stop off at the massage place in our complex and paid 58 RMB ($8) for a 90 minute massage—30 minutes on my legs & feet followed by an hour full body massage. [Best massage of my life, by the way]. My masseuse noticed that I had a cold and offered to get rid of it using the “cupping” method. For only 30 RMB ($4) more, my stuffy nose & cough was cleared away with the ancient Chinese practice. I made the 2 minute walk home, full, happy, & healthy.

A night like that on the East side would have easily cost me 300-400 RMB. Wo ai Wudaokou.