Rubdown

First, a housekeeping note. I will have some time to go through my pictures in the next few days and organize them a bit. I will then link them from the blog (on Google Picasa) so you can see more than the few I've already posted. I know my prose is not good enough on its own to maintain your interest (well, maybe that of my parents). Unfortunately, the following story does not have any photo documentation; I think you'll understand after reading.

I have experienced many new things during my time in Thailand. I drank my first Singha, participated in my first fire show, consumed vodka from a children's sand bucket for the first time, taught English to middle-aged Thai women for the first time, etc. However, I had one of my more memorable episodes a few weeks ago during my painful (and slightly disconcerting) introduction to the wonderful world of Thai massage.

As I approached the local massage parlor, I was confident that I was adequately prepared both physically and mentally for the 1 hour torture session that was to commence shortly (you probably know where this is going). I wasn't. To clarify, the physical pain was tolerable and actually paid great dividends later in the week as my body felt far more limber than usual, but the bizarre interactions that I had with the masseuses remains my most vivid memory of the afternoon.

I entered the dark, cool room eager to plant myself on one of the mattresses lined up along the wall to my left. It had been a long week of teaching, not eating enough, and drinking too much. In addition to being excited about the beds, I was pleasantly surprised to feel the frigidity of the air conditioning, which is a luxury that is in short supply around Ao Luk. Thus far, the only places that I've found that utilize A/C are the massage parlor and 7-11. But the latter doesn't offer massages; there's not enough space. As I gently reclined my weary body, Poi (my friendly masseuse) washed my feet and smiled warmly; I was in a good place.

Then the cracking of my body started. Although I stopped counting once I got to double digits, I'm fairly certain that my extremities made noise approximately 37 times over the course of the hour. As the the session entered it's final quarter, Poi really started to take out her aggression on my lower back; every muffled groan of mine was met with a giggle from her. As she was walking on my hamstrings (and I mean literally walking, I may as well have been her treadmill), a girl who looked to be about 18 years old emerged from the back room. She proceeded to lay down on the vacant bed next to me and gaze deeply into my eye (I specify "eye" as I was only able to keep one open because the other was buried in the depths of the mattress).

After about 10 seconds of staring, the mildly attractive young lady gestured at my mangled body and coyly said, "You beautiful." Ooookkk. After a brief pause, she "self-corrected" (teaching term for those not familiar with the lingo), instead changing her compliment to the more appropriate "handsome." Now, I am perfectly comfortable with my appearance and would even be willing to claim that I am not ugly. However, I was a slightly confused by a girl lauding me as "beautiful" and "handsome" given my rather dishevelled state. I was forced to draw one of two conclusions: either I am so good-looking that I look "beautiful" even while being put in a sleeper hold by a small Thai woman; or there were some not so savory implications being made by the young lass. Nevertheless, I managed to mutter some sort of expression of gratitude (although I'm sure it was incomprehensible given the face plant that I was pressed into) and assumed that was the end of the exchange. Obviously, it wasn't.

The girl continued to lie on the bed and smile demurely at me as Poi entered the final phase of her mission to turn my body into a human pretzel (mission thoroughly accomplished). Upon the massage's conclusion, Poi went to the back of the shop to make some complimentary jasmine tea, thus allowing the girl an opportunity to introduce herself as "Beeyah" (Side note: under normal circumstances I wouldn't have found this humorous, but since I have been living in a dormitory with a bunch of Australians, it sounded like she was saying the word "beer" with an Aussie accent. Like those old Foster's commercials, but worse. Actually, this might only be funny to me so I'll just move on).

I reciprocated by introducing myself and we settled into a disjointed banter of mispronouncing each other's names and me botching several attempts to employ basic Thai phrases. In short, it was magical and I was my usual suave self. A few minutes later, Poi returned and served the tea. She then pointed at Beeyah and said "She beautiful" (in case you're wondering, I am not trying to set the world record for number of times "beautiful" can be used in quotations within a single blog post). I was again forced to agree that the girl was "beautiful" while nodding my head and awkwardly grinning. Shortly thereafter, three more masseuses sauntered out to the front and joined Poi in the "calling Beeyah beautiful game." The tea was too hot to gulp so I was forced to half-heartedly participate in their shenanigans.

As I tried to expeditiously consume my tea, the Muay Thai fight that had been glowing on the television screen for the entire duration of my massage suddenly went to a commercial...

For breast enhancement. The rather explicit advertisement primarily consisted of women in bikinis jumping around and shaking their newly augmented bosoms. For the next two minutes (it was a commercial/mini-infomercial, apparently), the awkwardness level reached its apex as I sat in a dark massage parlor with five Thai women watching scantily-clad females shake their breasts; all while being forced to continue praising young Beeyah's natural beauty. I slammed the rest of the tea as it was clearly time for me to depart.

Ultimately, because of this absurd confluence of factors (and because of the beating my body took), I walked home with a rather wobbly gait and a thoroughly dazed look on my "beautiful" face. Ahhh, Thailand.