I titled this "The Massage" to scare my mother. No, it was not that kind of massage.
On my second night in Bangkok, I met a family friend, Eric, who happens to live in Bangkok. I took a taxi down to the center and was relieved to see that not all of Bangkok looks like Khao San. In fact, quite the opposite. Central Bangkok is a bustling metropolis with futuristic mega-malls and air conditioned sky-ways.
I met Eric in the lobby of a fancy hotel and after answering some brief test questions apparently correctly, I was deemed 'cool'. After this, Eric took me on a brief tour of the city. We hopped on the Skytrain, which was modeled after European trains, but was much cleaner and more modern than any I saw over there. We passed the primary rally-point for the red-shirts, who had completely sealed-off the Central mall (Which is as big, if not bigger, than the Mall of America). We stopped for a coffee at a Starbucks (I have tried Thai food, I promise.) and went through my tentative itinerary. Eric proved a wealth of useful information. We discussed currency exchanges, border crossings and local customs (One thing I learned is that Thais often smile or laugh when they are uncomfortable with a situation. This made me reevaluate all of my previous cross-cultural interactions where I had thought I had been super-funny). Later we stopped by his apartment, which was luxurious by any standard, let alone those of Thailand. Dropping off my stuff, we then headed for the massage parlor.
The first thing you need to know about Thai massage is that it is in line with feng-shui?, acupuncture and other forms of Eastern medicine. Instead of basing its efforts around grippings and pullings, the focus is on pressure points and environmental purity. We entered a small wooden room where we were instructed by polite, barefoot young ladies to take off our shoes (This is also the custom when entering pagodas certain businesses and people's homes.). They led us into a separate room which was designed to look like a naturally-formed Zen garden: bamboo chutes, smoothed stones and an artificial running creek. Incense burned (Incense here holds a spiritual meaning and is presented as an offering at pagodas and shrines) and soft ethereal music emanated from the walls. The ladies returned with steaming bowls of hot water into which they squeezed fresh limes. They proceeded to wash our feet for about five minutes. This alone is thoroughly relaxing, so much so that when it is time to move you to the massage room, the ladies hold your hand to make sure you don't fall. The massage room is candle-lit with soft colors and plush leather reclining chairs. For the next forty minutes or so, they massaged our feet and calves, but I never really felt any pressure. Instead they focused on strange points along my toes and heels. If Eric hadn't been speaking to me, I easily would have fallen asleep, or perhaps slipped into a coma. After the massage ended, they gave my feet a brief rub down with oil and then, if that wasn't enough, they sat me up and massaged my neck and shoulders for a good ten minutes. To top it off, in the lobby, they had my shoes and a warm cup of herbal tea waiting for me. All of this cost about $15 (Massages can run anywhere from $5-$30 depending on duration and type. Be wary of cheap massages, unless that's your thing).
When it was all over, I couldn't walk right, talk coherently, or remember my name. I slept like the dead.
