I have always considered myself as someone with excellent aim. One leg back, left eye shut, I've had years of experience sinking ping pong balls into red Solo cups half-filled with beer. I was absolutely foolish to think that this previous training would prove useful in the sport of archery.
Stepping out of the cab, ice coated the ground. Yes, it is indeed winter in Korea. With two years of practice navigating the ice in Boston, I safely managed to get myself up the steep drive that leads to Hwanghackjung Archery School. Welcomed inside, I was introduced to the other novices. After learning how to handle the bow and arrow, I was supplied with my very own "thumb guard." Made of leather, it had a tooth shaped apparatus that was apparently carved from a bull's horn. I didn't care that this thing was too big for my slender fingers. Wearing a bull's horn on my thumb made me feel like a total badass.
Visions of Mel Gibson as William Wallace in Braveheart flashed through my head. Arch your back, push your chest out, stand strong, pull HARD, and release. Several missed attempts and I finally shot an arrow directly into the wall. Sure, it was a good six feet from the tiny bull's-eye, but it was a start. My perfectionist kicked in and I wasn't going to leave this place until I sank a few more. I hit around five shots and then threw in the towel after the bow backfired and left three giant welts on my left forearm. I may be freakishly strong, but I'm a pretty sensitive lady.
Outside was the real deal. Two women and three men took the platform. Where are the targets? I can't see what they are supposed to be shooting. Oh, those specks in the distance? Yes! These advanced Koreans were hitting targets 145 meters away. They put my six-foot shot to shame.
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