Archive for category: Travels

Dust Mop Jiu Jitsu: The Expat Files: Chapter Eight: Vermont  Brazilian Jiu Jitsu-Williston, Vermont

-On looking for a home as a globetrotter and not finding one

This is the Eighth and final chapter of what I’m calling the Expat Files. If you want to know more about what this project is, you can read more about it in the first article here.

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I’m a bit of a youtube junkie. I love me a good explained video or a short doc about somebody doing something incredible with their lives. If you’re looking for a good one, there’s one called Two Years on a Bike. This Dutch guy, Martijn Doolaard, goes on an amazing bicycle journey from Alaska to Patagonia. The cinematography is amazing, the storytelling beautiful and you really feel like you are right there with him. But what struck me was the last part where he is so burned out. In North America he was so excited to meet people, go camping alone and soak up the adventure. But as soon as he finishes, he abruptly packs up his things and rushes back to the Netherlands. 

I identify with that. At the beginning of 2019, I had just arrived in Burlington, Vermont after a year and a half of being abroad. Even after arriving in the states, my wife and I were still living out of suitcases at my parents houses. The adventure was amazing spanning three continents and 7 Jiu Jitsu gyms between them. At this point I had lost my steam. I just wanted a home to live in and a place to train regularly. 

There were certain things I wanted to keep from our lifestyle in Korea. Of course BJJ was one of them. I needed to find my newest place to call home after Ulsan Fight Gym. The other major lifestyle improvement I knew I wanted to continue was riding a bike. As soon as I arrived in Ulsan, I rented one for the year and rode it almost every day. It honestly feels like the perfect way to travel. I knew I would be disappointed in myself if I went back to driving as my default.

Rachel and I could really only afford one car. Burlington was already covered in snow when we arrived on January 1, 2019. Sometimes the streets got so snowy that we had to park our car in the main garage downtown. But in Korea, I rode my bike every day to work and jiu jitsu. It added a sense of adventure to even the shortest trips. So while Rachel had the car, I got a mountain bike with metal studs for the ice.

With the car and the apartment, I needed to find my place to train. So I set my sights on Vermont BJJ. Unfortunately, I don’t remember much from the experience there except the realization that it couldn’t be the place for me. 

If you go there and you’re reading this, I hope you understand that this article isn’t here for me to needlessly pick on your gym. It’s to explain to my readers how I ruled out a gym from being the one. It’s not a lens I had to use when visiting other gyms in my travels, but I wasn’t looking for an interesting experience, I was looking for a home. 

If you haven’t seen his channel before, Icy Mike, a combat sports vlogger, once made a brilliant video about how to pick a martial art gym. He puts people into two main categories. The first are people that are there to compete at the highest level. The second is…everyone else. 

For the first folks, you find the place that competes, and wins, at the highest level. That tackles everything else. But for everyone else, there’s only three criteria.

• It’s close to your house.

I packed my gi, and rode my heavy mountain bike to Vermont BJJ. From our place it’s about a 30 minute ride. Doing this in the snow is always tricky. The shoulders on the road get pretty narrow and drivers aren’t always the friendliest folks in the Northeast. It’s pretty easy to get overheated and dehydrated. As it turned out, the gym was closed by the time I got there so I went home. A few days later, I managed to get the car and make it back. All I could think about was how hard it would be to bike for an hour with a BJJ lesson in between. 

With the car, it only took fifteen minutes to get there. Still I knew that I wouldn’t always have access to it and needed a place closer by. 

• You can afford it

I honestly don’t remember much about the lesson. That’s actually a good thing. I do remember thinking that it felt familiar enough for me to be interested in becoming a member. The instructor was nice, the training partners pretty chill. A lot of them reminded me of the folks at Boston BJJ. An older crowd for sure but not as rowdy as the folks at Grind, which I had tried the week before. 

At the end of the lesson, I had a good conversation with the instructor. He handed me a price sheet. It was the first time I experienced sticker shock in BJJ. 180 dollars a month would guarantee me two lessons a week. Any more and I was looking at spending 200 bucks. This place was way out of my price range.

In my article on Grind I talked about the tough rolls and how I wasn’t ready for them. I’ve spent enough time in the BJJ world to know that their tuition is not outside the norm. Outsiders tend to balk at the price, but it’s important to remember that every BJJ lesson is taught by someone who is providing a service. That’s a little different than just paying a rock climbing membership where nobody is instructing you. But again, I wasn’t in a position to pay that kind of tuition back in 2019. Nowadays, in Northampton, I pay something close to it. Physically and financially, I’m now in a different place. 

• You like the guys there

The guys there were solid. But getting to know folks usually comes with time. I do have patience with the fact that BJJ practitioners aren’t always the most forthcoming with new people. The folks at Fairborn were uncommonly friendly but they only had a few people there. In most gyms there’s often an attitude akin to “I’ll learn your name once you stick around for more than two months.” Once you learn how much work is involved in being in this sport, you realize not everybody makes it past that point . 

1 out of 3 wasn’t enough for me to sign the contract. I left that day feeling like Martijn Doolaard almost getting to the destination. I just wanted the search to be over so I could get on with my life. 

It’s hard to predict what gyms will meet all three criteria. If you read my next article, you’ll find out. 

The Dust Mop Takeaway:

This is a strange article compared to the rest of the ones I’ve written. Again, if you are a member of Vermont BJJ, please know I’m not just trying to crap on your gym. I recommend you go to my home page to understand what this project is and why I’m doing it. 

But the main memory I have from this gym experience is how to understand when a gym is not the right fit for you. 

End of an Era:

Most globetrotters who write stories and make videos have a home gym that they leave for a period of time to go explore the world. I had the opposite experience, I spent three months traveling and training at different academies without any place to claim as mine. Towards the end, I wasn’t looking for adventure anymore. I was looking for a home.  

I didn’t stop traveling and training once I found it. But I was no longer a ronin with nobody checking on my progress. All the fun and freedom of floating around to different schools reminded me of what I lacked and needed: mentors and coaches that are invested in me. Vermont Brazilian Jiu Jitsu the last gym I visited as an expat. 

The next chapter will begin a new series about what it meant for me to approach training more seriously in a focused way. I would continue to travel to other schools. My wanderings were over, but my true journey was about to begin. 

Dust Mop Jiu Jitsu: The Expat Files: Chapter Five: Boston BJJ-Newton, Massachusetts

-On focusing on the journey instead of the destination and the importance of being a beginner

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This is Chapter 5 of what I’m calling the Expat Files. If you want to know more about what this project is, you can read more about it in the first article here.

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After Denmark, Rachel and I made our way to Germany, Spain and Portugal. By the end of our four month journey, we had explored mountains, tried surfing and obtained official documents absolving us of our sins (Neither of us are Catholic, but it can’t hurt). Each place was amazing but we had a special mission for  Spain: the Camino de Santiago.

I’ve previously written about my love for trekking. Living out of a bag and only eating what you can carry gives you a simple daily structure . For the Camino:

It’s a hiking trail that’s like no other. You walk over the pyrenees, through the desert and then to the ocean. As a pilgrimage, these different parts of the trail have meanings. The first part, over the mountains, is good for the body. The second part, the Meseta, is devoid of scenery and it forces you to turn inward and examine your mind. The last, toward the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, is for the soul. 

Three years prior, I had started the Camino on my own. The whole thing takes six weeks, but in 2015, I only had three. I remember agonizing at the time about what I should do. Should I take a bus to the last bit? Perhaps I could skip the meseta. Maybe I could rent a bike.

I had fallen in with a group of hikers who gave me different advice. My assumption was that I would not be able to ever come back to Spain so I needed to get to Santiago now. I’ll never forget the conversation I had with this older French dude named Jerome.

Jerome: Ah so you will coupé (cut it) with a bus?

Me: I’m considering it

Jerome: But you will ruin it! Just walk to where you can and come back. You will see, it’s amazing! It will be just as you left it!

Me: But I’ll never be able to come back!

At the time, I was annoyed with him, but he was totally right. The best part of the Camino is starting it and looking forward to the journey. I remember meeting people who skipped the first few days so that they could make it to Santiago. I actually felt sorry for them. Like Jerome said, being a beginner is the best part. In contrast, the end of the Camino, in 2018,  was totally sad. The hope that we would reach Santiago is what got me out of bed each morning, now we didn’t have that. Rachel and I actually labeled it Post Camino Depression. But the beginning, the bonding with other travelers, the arduous hikes, is what made it special. 

After the trail, we flew to Boston from Barcelona. The cool thing is that we flew to Korea out of Los Angeles so since leaving the states, and then went to Europe and finally to Massachusetts. That meant that since leaving the USA for Ulsan in 2017 we had actually circumnavigated the globe. 

It had been six weeks since I had trained any Jiu JitsuBy the time we arrived in the states. Luckily I knew exactly where I could go. Boston Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu Academy caught my eye years before going to Korea, but I was always too nervous to go in. But here I was, six months into training. I had already been brave enough to start the process and continue it in other people’s gyms. This would be my first foray into establishing myself as a BJJ practitioner in America. Interesting how for some, the globetrotters network brings them gyms all over the world. For me, it literally brought me home.

All that  confidence crashed after I stepped onto the mats and saw a wall of people wearing black belts. At Ulsan Fight Gym in Korea, my instructor was a purple belt. In Thailand, I met black belt instructors but nobody else was at that level. This was the first time I saw black belts learning from black belts. To this day, Boston BJJ is the most black belt heavy gym I’ve been to. 

The class was at 7 AM. I dragged myself out of bed to get there. In late November, a few guys were freezing at the door. The instructor, John, finally showed up late and herded us inside. Since none of the guys complained, I figured this must be normal. Nobody even noticed me enough to find out if I was a member. They just rushed on the mats and started a twenty-five minute game of King of the Guard.

If you haven’t played it, King of the Guard works like this:

• Everyone pairs up with one person being put in guard
• The person in guard has to pass
  • If he makes it, he stays down and somebody new comes to him
  • If he doesn’t he finds a new person
• The person who has guard needs to sweep or submit
  • If he sweeps or submits, he stays where he is
  • If he gets passed, he gets up and finds a new person

I got swept and submitted less than 30 seconds with each person. It wasn’t even close. These guys were toying with me like a cat with a ball of yarn. 

One guy showed up late. He walked slowly, had wrinkles under his eyes and looked frail. He made the loudest old man noises as he stretched. Once he was on the mats, I walked over to him and he looked deep in my eyes. He spoke extremely slowly to me. “Listen. You are young. I am in my fifties. Okay? Be aware of our age differences and that I don’t heal as fast. OKAY?” Five seconds later I was in the tightest armbar I’ve ever felt. 

I had never felt such a gap in skill. In Korea most people were beating me, but it didn’t feel like a shutout. This felt like being in a tornado. I got swept and submitted by everyone in less than a minute. One guy put his hand over my mouth and nose. I remember asking him if it was a legal move. “…no. Just something we like to use for newcomers.” 

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It’s not that black belts are inherently more athletic than everyone else. When you start Jiu Jitsu, you’re not used to moving around on the floor. The movements don’t have access to potential energy. Once your body gets used to that, you have a major advantage over somebody who isn’t. Think about what it’s like to run a race against somebody who doesn’t even know how to walk. 

With more advanced people, the intimidation comes more from the sense that they always seem to know something you don’t. Now think about how those people are with each other, how much misdirection they learn to get what they want against somebody who sees their moves coming a mile away. It’s this learning curve that gives Jiu Jitsu its mythic status as the martial art for the little guy. 

BJJ people love comparing jits to chess. “You get better by rolling with people who are better.” But these guys were honestly too far out of my league. I would get home feeling like I had never understood anything. They rarely even taught techniques unless the instructor felt like it. The schedule said they had a fundamentals class. I had not yet been to a gym that had separate classes for beginners. A prideful part of me didn’t want to think of myself as a beginner but I knew I had to give it a shot. 

I actually ended up really liking the beginner’s class. There’s a split in the Jiu Jitsu world over how much time should be devoted to warm ups. Some feel it robs you of valuable time you could be focusing on Jiu Jitsu. But our instructor, Alex, led them in an interesting way. He would say “20 jumping jacks.” First he would count to ten then we would count in unison from 11-20. When you are new to a gym and a group of people, yet you find yourself moving in the same way as them, you inevitably feel a connection. That team feeling is what was missing from the class with all the Black Belts. Those guys weren’t trying to be exclusive, but the reality is they had all probably known each other for at least 10 years. Just like on the Camino, it’s easier to connect with people who are on the same leg of the journey as you. 

Alex also explained some of the basic moves in a way that made me realize I had never understood them back in Ulsan. Alex’s class structure helped me feel like I did in Ulsan, that I was learning something new each day. (He’s also a good writer. Check out this article he wrote about Anthony Bourdain and BJJ or his sci-fi series on MMA. He writes about a dystopian world where wars are fought through MMA matches. The practices he describes in the book actually describe the kinds of methods he used at Boston BJJ).

I spent every day for almost a month at either the advanced or fundamentals class. And I I learned a lot. I like to think I was getting better, but I was more likely learning how to identify what I had been  previously doing wrong. Here again, I found it interesting to be around such advanced folks. The advice I got from black belts was great, but the advice I got from blue and purple belts was honestly more helpful. Those were the folks that were most recently in my shoes. 

Boston BJJ ended up becoming a second gym to me. I would soon move to Burlington, Vermont. My coach there had gotten his black belt from the Boston BJJ head coach, Roberto Maia, which meant I didn’t have to pay for drop ins. I would train there whenever I was visiting my parents or working in the area. I always looked forward to it as well. I still got crushed by the black belts each time, but I started learning from them as well. 

Unfortunately, I think they took a hit during the pandemic. I’m not sure the full story, but all I know is that they don’t exist at that location anymore. I hope they get back on their feet soon and I can see those folks again. Since they closed, I’ve had to look for other gyms to train when I visit my folks. At a few places, I’ve seen some of the Boston BJJ diaspora. I always approach them and commiserate about how much we miss the academy. 

The folks I walked with on the Camino DeSantiago will always have a special place in my heart. But similarly, the black belts who crushed me, the blue belts who mentored me and the white belts who grew with me will forever be a part of my BJJ journey. 

The Dust Mop Takeaway:

Part of the reason for me writing this blog is to reflect on what it feels like to be a white belt after so much time. When I started BJJ, I remember hoping that I would make it to blue belt before I got to the states. But there’s something comforting about being a white belt. Nobody expects anything from you so it’s a win-win scenario. If you do poorly, nobody looks disappointed, and if you do well, everyone seems impressed (or annoyed depending on who you roll with). It’s honestly something that I think I will miss if I get promoted, that feeling like I’ve got nothing to lose. 

At Boston BJJ, I learned to love being a beginner. I got the mindset that there’s always more to learn. Just like being on the camino, there’s always more trail to cover. It’s what inspires you to wake up at 7am, lace up your boots and get walking right away. For jits, it’s what inspires me to get to training five days a week.

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My goal is to visit 100 gyms! If you ever want me to visit yours and write about what it’s like to learn from you, feel free to reach out at [email protected].

If you want to read my articles as soon as they’re published, you can follow me here.

Dust Mop Jiu Jitsu: The Expat Files: Chapter One: Ulsan Fight Gym-Ulsan, South Korea

-On getting better each day, hacks for remembering Korean names and staying calm while being choked.

What is this project?

At current count, I have done at least one lesson at thirty separate Jiu Jitsu studios. In 2018, I started BJJ in South Korea and moved to Burlington, Vermont. The pandemic brought me to the Berkshires (western Massachusetts) and then, in september 2021, to Amherst (same state but more East). Throughout my journey, I’ve tried to keep up with going to class at least three times a week. If I found myself out of those four locations, I went to lessons wherever I could find them. Visiting family in Nebraska, attending academic residencies and visiting potential universities with my wife gave me the opportunity to see Jiu Jitsu in multiple states, countries and continents. 

Partially because of all the moving, I’m still a white belt. I’ve been trying to make sense of all the time I’ve dedicated to my sport. I’ve gained so much with regard to physical health, confidence and social connections. Yet I keep focusing on the Blue Belt that has continued to elude me. People love to say that Jiu Jitsu is great for keeping your ego low, but I have to admit that I get uncomfortable when people ask me what belt I am. After four years, it can sometimes feel embarrassing to say white. 

If you stick around at one gym, my assumption is that eventually you will get a Blue Belt. The gyms I’ve been to don’t want to give one to a guy who’s only been around a few months. They want to be able to take stock in your progress and see your journey. That leads me to this project. I need to take it upon myself to reflect on that journey rather than waiting for someone else to do it for me. Without the promise of a belt, I’ve had to find more subtle ways to mark moments of growth.

The name “Dust Mop Jiu Jitsu” represents my belief that I’ve taken crumbs from everywhere I’ve been. I’ve told myself that seeing all of these gyms has been good for my Jiu Jitsu. But I haven’t really taken the time to reflect on how attending classes while globetrotting has actually helped me. I can’t claim to remember everything I learned from each place. That’s why I feel like a dust mop as opposed to a sponge. But my thought is that, through writing, I will be able to remember at least one way that each gym has contributed to my BJJ repertoire in the form of a technique, a life lesson or an interesting story. 

This blog is dedicated to the coaches and students who I’ve learned with along the way. You’ve influenced me more than you can know. 

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This is the first chapter of what I’m calling the Expat Files. It starts when I was living abroad until I found a permanent gym in the states.

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I began my Jiu Jitsu journey in Ulsan, South Korea. Growing up I had always loved Martial Arts. As a kid, I did Karate and watched every Jackie Chan movie. I quit by sixth grade and rediscovered my interest in my teens. My older brother got really into watching Bruce Lee movies and we would break things around the house trying to recreate our favorite scenes from Drunken Master. 

Arthur, a highschool buddy of mine, got jazzed into it too after I introduced him to Human Weapon. We roped in our friend Rae’e and would practice sparring in my parents house or outside the cafeteria at school. Looking back, we must have looked like absolute jackasses trying to pull off flowery kicks on each other. 

Arthur heard that Brazilian Jiu Jitsu was this mysterious art where a little guy could beat a bigger person. He ended up trying Jiu Jitsu in college for a year but I was too intimidated. Ten years passed by and I pulled every excuse in the book not to try it out. I told myself that I was too tired after work, too out of shape to start and not aggressive enough to make it my hobby.  It didn’t help that Arthur, forever a gym rat and always in way better shape, had made his practices in college sound like the most intense workouts he’s ever done. There was even a gym around the corner from my house near Boston and instead of going to it I waited until I was halfway around the world to give grappling a shot.

I know I’m not alone in starting later than I wanted. Almost every BJJ practitioner I know delayed starting because they weren’t strong/fast/good enough to start. Those same people always wish they had gotten over that and started earlier.

I moved to South Korea in the fall of 2017 to be an English teacher. After being there a few months, my girlfriend (now my wife) Rachel, asked if I wanted to try Taekwondo. “It’s the national sport after all” she said, “we might as well try it.” I hadn’t done a martial art since Karate in elementary school. But doing kicks with a few Korean teenagers and some extremely awkward expats made me realize that it was BJJ that was calling my name. 

I was thinking of sticking with Taekwondo and maybe trying BJJ once I felt strong enough. That’s a moving goal post. I still hear this all the time from friends that are flirting with joining. “I’m getting stronger, I think I’ll do it once I feel ready.”. Every BJJ practitioner I know thought they weren’t strong/fast/good enough to start. They all wish they had started earlier and gotten over those fears sooner. One Chewjitsu video in particular helped me realize that I would never be ready, but I would kick myself for hesitating once I started. On facebook, I found the closest academy which turned out to be Ulsan Fight Gym.

The first lesson, Jang Jiwoon, the instructor took me aside and gave me a brief intro. Jiwoon’s English was good but the class was entirely taught in Korean (which I don’t speak). We then started the class with shrimping (which I couldn’t figure out), reverse shrimping (which I couldn’t figure out) and the move of the day. My first ever technical lesson in Jiu Jitsu was the Kimura from a closed guard (which I couldn’t figure out). At the end of fifty minutes, they always did five minute rounds for half an hour. I didn’t expect my instructor to allow me to spar on the first day. I shakily walked over to a nice dude with glasses and a bowl cut who smiled and gestured for me to sit down. I panicked and bucked around. I somehow got the Kimura and my first ever tap. From that moment, I was hooked. That night, I lay awake in bed and I couldn’t sleep. It felt the same as when you start dating someone and you think it might be true love.

I started with two days of training a week and did my damndest to make it three. I already fantasized about doing it all day every day. Only problem was, I couldn’t always understand the lessons. Almost all of them were in Korean. The instructor spoke English but I couldn’t make him give me private directions each time. 

The people in the gym were always nice to me. But it was mostly an athletic experience and not a social one. Most South Koreans learn English in school. At the same time, most in my city didn’t really feel comfortable speaking it. There’s an interesting dynamic at play. If you look at test scores, South Koreans have really high grades in English but don’t really need it to have a stable career. It’s like learning advanced math in school and realizing that you’ll never use it beyond your college exams. Asking someone there to speak English is like asking an American to do calculus on the spot. The exception was Ho Chun (red rash guard above), who quickly became my favorite training partner since he loved to make crazy inappropriate jokes in English all the time. With that language barrier, most of my friends that year were American, French, Italian, British and South African. I think Ho Chun was the closest thing I made to a Korean friend. 

Of course there were other characters that I grew to love at the gym. The two teenagers on the right of the picture would always chase each other around like dragon flies trying to mate. The kids were really fun and would always pull out their best English with me. One heavyset blue belt would practice shadow boxing with one of those low-oxygen masks and collapse in a puddle in the corner before practice. This old truck driver would try to snap my achilles in half and laugh hysterically whenever I tapped to the pain. Actually, come to think of it, I didn’t like that last guy too much. 

Part of the obstacle to getting close to people is also the Korean names. Every Korean name, without exaggeration, has three syllables. The first one is the family name, and then the personal name i.e. Kim (family) Jong Un (given name). That makes it really hard to distinguish people’s names from each other. Remembering names is a prerequisite for friendship in my book

Another peculiar thing is that it’s common for Koreans to pick English names in elementary school and stick with them throughout their education and sometimes their career. I did that in the states in Spanish class but only for the first year (for the record, in sixth grade, I went by Alfredo). There, they did that much earlier, used them for longer, and it seemed like a bigger part of their academic identity. Sandra, a Korean teacher at the school, and I had a conversation about that naming process. I noticed all of the kids call her Sandra, even when they are speaking Korean.

Me: How did you come by the name Sandra? Did you choose it?

Sandra: Actually I changed it in middle school. I started with the name Monica at age five. My parents picked that name. But as more kids started to learn more English, they made fun of me by calling me Harmonica. So I made the decision to change it to Sandra. 

I saw a huge variety in these chosen English names. It was only two years post Frozen so there were a lot of Elsa and Anna’s. There were plenty of biblical names like Daniel and Isaac. Some parents opted for using the Korean names (like one of my favorite kids, Ju-Ha). But sometimes parents let the kids pick their own names and the results could be pretty entertaining. The following are a list of names that I, or my coworkers, actually taught:

• Pikachu
• Black Joe (Named after a candy bar)
• ABC
• Dragon
• Luigi
• King’s Guys
  

It bothered me, however, that I could not remember Korean names. I pride myself on being able to remember names no matter the culture, so I found a good work around. My BJJ coach explained that all I had to do was remember if people were older than me or younger. Apparently it’s totally acceptable to just call somebody by their age honorific. It’s a pretty simple system.

Still, even if I was getting a handle on addressing people. I was clearly missing key concepts since all the instructions were in Hangul. To learn more, I started finding as much content online to help explain the fundamental concepts. Joe Rogan, Sam Harris, Jocko Willink, Nick “Chewy” Albin, Stephan Kesting, Rokas “Martial Arts Journey” Leo and Budo Jake became my English speaking mentors. I started to understand more and got fascinated by the principles that were so critical in the sport. I watched a Rolled-Up episode with Jeff Glover that helped me do a mounted triangle for the first time. “Remember guys, it’s not called a tri-in-front-of-the-guy-choke, it’s a tri-angle choke, you gotta pivot.” Those little details helped me learn how to survive.

Like most over-excited newcomers I got a few injuries. I bruised a rib and did something weird to my elbow. It forced me to pull out of what would have been my first competition. I still went, watched, and wondered if I would ever get the opportunity to compete. The thought both exhilarated and terrified me. I’m not a very competitive or aggressive person, but I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. It would be another year until that happened.

 In hindsight, it’s a good thing I pulled out of that competition. I had started intermittent fasting and was losing weight rapidly. Being an American, I never really got a handle on Kilos as a measurement so I was not sure if I had given an accurate number for a weight class. But I know I lost 15 pounds easily. It was not just the IF that did it. I’ve never considered myself fat but I never had that much control when it comes to food either. Early on I learned that BJJ makes you crazy nauseous if you eat right before coming to class. I remember wanting to puke my second lesson. I ate an hour before the class because I didn’t want to train hungry. But I learned to make a buffer of two hours between meals and rolling. Additionally, I started to avoid sugar on days I attended class. Because of this, I remember turning down a free donut before heading to UFG and thinking that I had never in my life refused a pastry. The pictures below will show what I looked life before and after I started doing BJJ. 

In July, our contract with the school was almost up. Rachel asked me what I wanted to do when we eventually returned to the states. Before getting to Korea I was actually pretty lost in my life. I worked in outdoor education for a while and got tired of that. I had earnestly looked into becoming a Rabbi but ended up deciding that it wouldn’t be a good fit for me. A few weeks after starting BJJ, I started a masters in Mental Health Counseling but didn’t have a plan for anything related to work. I also didn’t know if I wanted to be a therapist or just enjoyed learning about the concepts. All I knew for sure was that I wanted to continue doing Jiu Jitsu. After all, this felt like the best therapy I had ever received.

It’s the tap that really makes Jiu Jitsu special. In outdoor education we talk a lot about trust building. Mostly we do that through climbing and belaying and learning to trust. But I felt that getting submitted is what really builds the most amount of trust in any sport I’ve ever done. When you tap to a choke, you are communicating clearly that if you keep going, I will die. The fact that you let go instantly builds a feeling of safety that I had never experienced prior. 

My first week, I remember how quickly I would tap as soon as somebody put their arm around my neck. But after a few weeks, I would start to notice I was still breathing. Just because the arm is there, doesn’t mean they have me. I don’t need to panic. I have options. That realization has carried me in stressful moments outside the sport.

At Ulsan Fight Gym, they did skill demonstrations for their stripes. I prepared with a wiry Korean dude who went by the English name Adam. I worked hard and got my stripe but honestly what I’ll always remember from that night was waiting for everyone to be done. This older dude, Jae-Min, tapped me on the shoulder and said, “This very boring!” We both burst out laughing. 

After four months of training at UFG, I was about to hit the road. Schools in South Korea usually give you a finishing bonus when your contract is over. Most people take that money and travel a little bit before returning home. That was our plan. We wanted to see a little more of Asia, meet up with Rachel’s parents in Denmark, go to Spain for the Camino De Santiago and then get home in time for Rae’e’s wedding in Boston. But I wondered how I would continue my training. That’s how I discovered BJJ globetrotters. One google search of, “how do you train BJJ while traveling.” Finding the site, I was so relieved to know that I could keep my progress while training! I used their website and facebook pages to look at possibilities for learning BJJ post Korea. If you’re curious about what that was like, be sure to look out for my next article where I talk about my time in Bangkok, Thailand.

The last night I was in Korea, I went to UFG. They surprised me with a cake and said goodbye to me. Jiwoon told me how lucky I was that I would be able to meet Black Belts in the states. Ho Chun, the wonderful weirdo, bought me a bag of socks. Four years later, I think I still have two pairs. 

I still keep in touch a little bit with the gym. Whenever I compete in a tournament, I send them some pictures. Someday I hope to go back and visit. The language barrier will still be there, but at this point, I’m positive our Jiu Jitsu can do most of the talking.

The Dust Mop takeaway:

So what did I learn from UFG? Technically I gained a lot of movement and skill. It’s almost a cliche to say that your first few months are usually spent getting murdered by everyone in BJJ. Those first few months were all in Korea so I never really got to see the other side of the hump except for a few clunky submissions scored on people newer than me.  

I learned here the lesson that most new, not-particularly-athletic white belts need to learn. Forget about winning and losing. Take stock of what happened in the roll and let yourself know at least one thing that went well. I would do this by telling myself:

 “I know I did something right because I got back to my guard” 

“I know I did something right because  he had his arms around my neck and I didn’t give up.”

“I know I did something right because he worked harder than he normally does.”

You gotta take the perspective that you are getting a little better each day.

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My goal is to visit 100 gyms! If you ever want me to visit yours and write about what it’s like to learn from you, feel free to reach out at [email protected].