Thai Massage – I Stand Corrected

I take back every negative word I said about Thai Massage. If I had the money and was more of the self-indulgent persuasion, I would devote the rest of my life to Thai Massage, to receipt of, that is.

When the girls made it back on Sunday, I asked if anyone wanted to join me for a Thai Massage at Healthland (not that I deserved on after my weekend of sloth). Alexandra, who had been raving about Healthland since we arrived (she’s been here since January) willingly accepted my offer and off we went. Since neither of us know the translation for “Healthland” in Thai, we directed the cab driver towards Central Pin Klao which is just past Healthland on the other side of the Pin Klao Expressway. When we neared our stop, Alexandra reached in the front of the cab to point over to the right where we wanted to get off and the driver playfully pretended to bite her arm. Laughing, she tried again,”Yut ti nun, ka” and again had her arm assaulted. Luckily the driver knew what she meant and pulled over to let us out, laughing, leaving us with another memory of Bangkok’s colorful cabbies.

Healthland looks like the White House from the outside and a very austere, sparsely, yet tastefully decorated, lobby inside. The focal point, at the back wall, was a waterfall down a stone wall carving of elephants. We walked up to the counter and asked for two Thai Massages (no private room).

After a few minutes, a woman motioned for us to follow her and led us to a bench in a small hallway where we removed our shoes and were given woven grass house slippers to wear. We then followed two women up two flights of stairs, past white walls and shaded windows (private rooms), down a hall with curtain partitions on either side divided up into about six separate sections. We were led into adjoining sections, separated by a curtain, and the woman motioned to the folded clothes on the bed. After a few moments of fumbling, Alexandra, a veteran of Healthland, had to come to my assistance.

The pants are what Alexandra calls “fisherman” pants and are the epitome of “one-size-fits-all.” I stepped into the pants, asking Alexandra, as I did, if she cared to join me (which she could have quite comfortably) and she laughted as she took the excess fabric in the front and folded one side over the other to fit securly around my waist. She then handed me the strings at the back and I pulled them around to the front, tying them together, holding everything in place. The shirt was more self-explanatory; you simply slipped it on and tied four ties in the front to keep it closed. Once I was dressed, my masseuse came in and asked me to lie on my back, after which I was treated to two of the most relaxing hours of my life thus far.

Since this was my first professional massage of any kind, much of this may not be new to some of you, but it was all new to me. In this particular massage, they start with your feet and move their way up your legs, using fingers, hands, forearms, knees and feet. You are bent into positions you could probably never manage on your own and the stretching feels wonderful.

During the massage, you are covered in a felt blanket and each time she is finished with an appendage, she lovingly tucks it back under the blanket keeping you warm and cozy. When she was finished with my legs she came up an worked on my arms, putting me in an incomparable state of bliss. I’ve always been a huge fan of hand massages and this time was no exception. From there it was on to my stomach, where my legs were again treated and then my back and my arms, shoulders and neck. It’s a good thing that these women are little, because at times they are kneeling on the back of your thighs, their hands pressing into your back as you bear all of their weight. At one point, she stood on the back of my thighs, pulling my feet into yet another stretch.

Finally, it seemed she was finished. She covered me all up, tucked me in and asked me to wait “a moment.” Lying on my back, all tucked in, listening to the soft music in the background, I could have waited for hours.

When she returned, she moved around to the top of the bed, where she lifted me up and placed my head on a pillow in her lap. I was in for a treat. Loving head and face massages even more than hand massages, I was just slightly disappointed (I know, how spoiled am I?) to not receive one, and was elated to find that the best was still to come. From her new position, she worked on my face, my scalp, my neck and my shoulders. She then, got me in a cross-legged seated position, with my arms behind my back, palms facing out. She sat behind me and put her arms through the spaces formed by my arms and twisted my back to each side until it cracked. She then, rolled me over her, somehow, so that I was lying on my back with her underneath me, held up only by her feet. It was surreal. She walked around on my back to and let me stretch for a few moments and then rolled me back to a seated position. I had to wonder how she manages that with people who weigh much more than I do!

Then, she stood up abruptly, smiled, and asked me to change back into my clothes, leaving me feeling just the slightest bit cheap as I hurriedly dressed in the empty room.

Once dressed, we were returned to the bench where we’d left our shoes. We changed our shoes, tipped our ladies 50 bhat and made our way back home, smiling at the memory and guiltless pleasure for a mere 10 US dollars (and needing to remind myself that I came here to volunteer...).