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Welcome to part 2 of my special pacific island report (part 1 is here)!

My Jiějiě woke me up at 4:30h this morning, saying something about going to see a Chinese doctor. I think I murmured "you're nuts, I'm fine" and slept for another 5 hours.

This turned out to be my first cultural misunderstanding. In the West, we only go see a doctor when we're sick or - if you're like me - when the pain becomes unbearable. However, in traditional Chinese culture the doctor's role is to keep you healthy, which is why you have to go see him all the time. Still doesn't explain why this particular doctor works from 5:00am to 8:00am, though.

I got a second chance later the same day when I was taken to a chiropractor. He diagnosed a badly bent spine (I blame my job) and warned me that the necessary corrective measures might hurt "a bit". I must admit I had doubts concerning his qualification. If he's as good as I was told, how come he worked in such a shabby office? Why didn't he have sexy assistants like the doctors in Japanese adult entertainment movies? Does Chinese chiropractice really go back 5000 years?

Then I remembered what I had learned from watching countless late night kung fu flicks: Real masters never care for worldly possessions. Any doubts I still might have had were quickly dispersed once the treatment started. The excruciating pain left me with only one thought: Not wanting to cry like a baby. Luckily, I managed to suppress my urge to scream and nobody could see the tears running down my face, anyway.