Thai’d in Knots: Make mine “hard” please

A few days ago, I had a 2 hour massage while sitting in a barca-lounger in Old Chiang Mai. I thought I had experienced Thai massage…..but I was sadly mistaken!

As part of my Northern Thailand Great escape, I took a 4 hour motorbike trip from Chiang Mai to Pai, a little village staffed by tea growing hill tribes that is now the Trekking capital of Thailand. Though Chiang Mai is in between its tourist seasons, Pai, only 140 km away is in high season. This tiny little town is crawling with Europeans, mostly between the age of 20 and 30. They’re white water rafting, backpacking through the jungle, riding elephants, and just chilling out in downtown Pai.

About every 10th storefront is a massage parlor offering 1 hr “thai massages” or 1-2 hour oil massages. Having just spent 4 hours on the back of a 125 cc motorbike…think smaller than a motorcycle, but capable of doing 60 mph… on the twisty windy and treacherously steep mountain highway to Pai, my body ached. Well….my BUTT hurt, mainly…the rest of the body was fine. I decided to compare my previous chair massage to a real thai massage.
As with many shopkeepers, the lady in charge of the “spa” could speak just enough English to get me committed. Using mainly an English menu of choices and her finger, she reviewed the alternatives. When I pointed to the Thai massage she asked: “hard or soft?” I don’t know why, but my mind immediately jumped to Tina Turner introducing their version of Proud Mary….”we don’t do anything easy”, she says. We like to do things rough” “HARD or SOFT?” my spa consultant once again repeated. I decided to hedge my bets. I told her “if it’s a man, make it soft, but if a woman make it hard”. This was the only way I knew of to suggest perhaps “medium”.

I was led into the primary massage room which had 3 inner spring-less mattresses on the floor side by side. The room had a long open window the length of the room such that we felt more like we were in a carport than an inner room. I remembered seeing a sign outside saying “air conditioning”, but this room would not have been able to be air conditioned. As it was, there was a strong fan blowing a breeze, and the room was a perfect temperature for a massage. Beautiful Thai jazz (I made up that term) was playing from speakers, and it made for a perfect atmosphere. Since I was wearing long pants, my masseuse gave me some light cotton tie-around pants to put on. They were size 94…whatever excess you had, you simply continued to wrap around your waist and then tie it.
Concurrent with my massage, a young European couple came in and took the two mattresses next to mine. They had both asked for “soft” massages, and though I only occasionally peeped out of one mostly closed eye, I’m pretty sure that I got the bargain.
A quick note of brilliance on my part. Because there had been so many parlors, I couldn’t figure out how to choose. It occurred to me that a Farang (foreigner) would not necessarily be able to tell a highly trained masseuse from someone who just rubs you the wrong way….since most people haven’t had a Thai massage, thus I wanted to make sure I got the real deal. I chose this particular place because, in addition to advertising thai massage, they also advertised Thai massage lessons. I’m thinking they’d be a real sticker for making sure their people did things RIGHT.

Back to my massage. I knew I was in for a treat from the beginning. For the first 2 minutes, my feet were scrubbed with a warm wet, herbally enhanced cloth, and then rubbed with oil. After that, it was NO MR NICE GUY. My tiny Thai masseuse probably weighed in at about 100 pounds dripping wet. She asked me to scoot up to the top of the mattress so that there was room for her. She promptly sat down by my feet, and grabbed my left foot with both hands and put it in her lap. Next, I’m pretty sure she took her right foot and put it into my armpit, and her left foot was placed firmly against my left inner thigh. She then pulled….not with a yank, but a good, steady, pull until she was satisfied that my leg had been adequately displaced from my hip socket.
The wonderful thing about Thai massage is that your body simply becomes theirs for one hour. You don’t have to assist them at all (prease rift your reg a rittle higher) they do all the heavy lifting themselves. I simply closed my eyes and tried to envision what was happening to me…as if I had escaped my body and was watching from the ceiling above. I’m pretty sure that within the first 45 minutes, all four of my appendages were removed from my body, rubbed down, kneaded, poked and prodded, and then reattached.
About 40 minutes into the massage, I actually DID have to help. “Roll over please” she requested. I was now on my stomach. In a matter of minutes, she was on top of me. I think they call this doggy style. She wandered aimlessly up and down my legs and buttocks, all the while her hands were prancing around my back and neck. For a moment, it reminded me of when I use to play horsy with my daughters on the living room floor. It always ended with me collapsing and them crawling around all over me. This, somehow, seemed infinitely more professional.
As for my two European comrades, the ones that requested “soft”, I never once saw their little ladies tie them into pretzels or hang ten off their foreheads. All I know is that when 1 hour was complete, they hopped right up and went on their way. Me, well I kind of had to relearn how to walk. ….. more later.