Tuesday, November 18, 2008

My Thai Foot Massage

(3 years ago, having a foot massage while Emily had lunch!)

It was my day off today. A day off is not truly a day off without at least one hour away from all of my kids. Jonty and Emily were at school, so as soon as Nina went down for her midday nap, and Phii Noi got back from lunch, I took myself off to the spa down the road for a foot massage. I could go to the ladies at Big C, but I’m a bit of a massage snob, and rather go to the spa. You pay 20 baht extra, but you get soothing music and aircon. Bonus!

The Thai Foot Massage actually originated in China. It's an art that been practiced for over 5000 years. And although it’s called a foot massage, it involves the legs, up to the thighs, and often even shoulders and hands too.

The benefits ... wow… where do we start? Other than one hour of peace and quiet, it’s also supposed to improve circulation, remove toxins, stimulate lymphatic drainage, boost the immune system, relieve stress, improve sleep, and – my all time favourite (I do SO live in hope) - give clarity of mind.

So, I arrived, washed out, worn out, ready for my one hour. They know me by now. The lady who runs the spa... wait… lady? I am not sure. She is dressed like a lady, but talks like a man. She is taller than me, unusual for a Thai lady, but does wear plenty of make-up. Anyway, I get welcomed. I get taken through to a little foot fountain and my feet are thoroughly washed with a lovely, tingly, minty kind of soap, with coarse salt. Aaah, that alone is worth it. Except that my feet are very ticklish so I spend half the time pulling my feet away and giggling.

While I am getting my feet washed, I spot my masseuse getting ready for me. She… he? … She is small, but walks like a man. Her hair is cropped short. No make-up. I don’t know. I don’t mind if she is a man, because the ladies are often a bit too gentle. I like a firm massage (it’s those ticklish feet).

Then, I am given a pair of fluffy cotton slippers to wear. I pad through to the massage room. It’s dimly lit (so I didn’t get to read my Newsweek which I had taken with me), and has the soothing music and aircon I mentioned. There is a water feature, lots of plants, very nicely done.

I prepare to pass out. But no. The masseuse is a talkative one. Her voice is soft and gentle. A lady’s voice. She’s also new. She bows down and says a prayer or some sort and starts. Starts the massage but also starts the questions. She wants know if I come often – am I a regular? What am I doing in Lampang? Am I married? Do I have kids? Do I like living in Lampang?

I find out that she is from Central Thailand. She’s from a broken home. Her parents divorced when she was two and she was raised by her older sister. She did not go to school, they had no money, but learned the art of massage at a vocational training centre. She worked in Bangkok for a while, but has just moved to Lampang to be with her “fan”. “Fan” is a lovely Thai word used to indicate boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife. Nick (turns out her name is Nick, just like my fan’s) proudly tells me that her fan is the lady who runs the shop.

Nick is getting down to my reflex points which she is digging into viciously with her boney fingers (some use a stick, Nick doesn’t need to). The belief is that each part of the foot is linked to another part of the body – to vital organs and muscles. She tells me that if it’s sore, she needs to deal with that problem spot (i.e. press harder and longer). I grit my teeth and tell her it’s not sore at all. She moves on. No, not sore. Not at all. Gasp gasp. She ends with a scalp massage. Bliss.

Thai foot massage lavishes your feet and legs with the consideration and attentiveness they deserve - they are the pillars of our bodies, after all. But I wonder if Nick is lavished with the consideration and attention she deserves as one of God’s unique creations. I don’t think she is – she’s a lost, neglected, confused, unloved one.

I left my massage walking on sweet-smelling, pampered feet, promising to be back next week. Then the words rang through my head - “How lovely on the mountains are the feet of her who brings good news….” Next week I’d better take the good news!

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