-^-for posterity-^-

giac gio.

so, i’ve been sick. i try my best to hide it, but my voice always gives me away. it lurches and gurgles and doesn’t sound at all right. one of my bosses overheard me say something to the security guard and insisted that we go to a doctor.

we went to the pharmacy and bought medicine. that was fine with me and i was ready to go home until it was suggested that i receive the ‘giac goi’ treatment. i was driven to his house and escorted up to the bedroom where i was instructed to take my shirt off and wait. i did.

‘giac gio’ means to cup the wind. evidently, this was an ancient method of curing illnesses. inside every person there are winds. inside of a sick person the wind is bad and must be removed.

a thin man walked in the room with a cigarette limply hanging from his mouth. he had his shirt unbuttoned and carried a small, wooden, blue case. he told me to lay down.

he first gave me a massage. it wasn’t the most relaxing massage in the world. his hands were bony and my back is amply fleshy. he didn’t rub the muscles, he pounded them and slapped them and made rhythmic sounds. he started to rub my back with what felt like a pencil. it was thin and sharp and he dug deeply. i winced but imagined it was all part of some culturally redeeming experience.

the man sat up, turned to my boss and said, ‘yep, he’s full of a lot of bad wind.’ (many bad puns or jokes could be made here but i will tastefully refrain.)

he opened his blue box of wonders. it was full of glasses that were about the size of a baseball and about the shape of a flower bulb with one end sliced off. he opened a jar that held clear liquid. he took out a wand with a wooly end and dipped it in the jar. the wand burst into flames a few inches from my face. he shook the flaming wand over the glasses. the fun began.

he put the wand inside of a glass and pressed it on my back. the fire created a vacuum and the glass sucked to my skin. he slid it down from the top of my back to the bottom of my back and pulled it off making a ‘pop’ noise. he put the wand back in the glass and slid down. ‘pop’ this went on for a few minutes and he repeated his diagnosis. i was full of bad wind and needed it out immediately.

he took all the jars out of his box and stuck them to my back. he would put the flaming wand in the jar, stick it to my back, grab another jar, stick it to my back and so on. he had about 25 jars.

soon my back was covered with these jars. they pulled at the skin and i was tense all throughout my chest. the experience was uncomfortable to mildly painful.

the man now sat between my legs. this was becoming strange. he gave me a massage all over my legs, feet and my buttocks. he would slap and bang and hit and slap. it wasn’t a very relaxing massage. the most macabre moment occurred when this frail, old man was slapping my butt rhythmically, much like a bongo player would play the bongos, and i was laying face down with 25 glasses sucking on my back creating giant hickies.

he then moved from between my legs (i relaxed a bit) and began repositioning the glasses. he could see where some were working better than others. he began to massage my arm. he moved them again and massaged my other arm, making sure to crack all my fingers whether they wanted cracking or not.

finally he removed all the glasses and told me that i would be better soon. i came home and showed jack. my back was covered with large, reddish purple marks. he counted a total of 44 of them. i’ll have pictures soon.