File under “everybody’s doing it.” I finally made an appointment for reflexology because the “famous” place to go is virtually across the street from where I live. Across a busy street so I actually went by car.
What I thought would be a 1/2 hour foot massage, ended up being a 1 1/2 hour foot, arm, shoulder and head massage. What I thought was a massage could more easily be described as a deep tissue masochistic pressure point experience. All for around $10, before tip. Afterward, I felt limp and, yet, somewhat refreshed.
The day before the appointment, I had bruised my leg, desperately attempting to maintain dignity while disembarking an ojek in a denim skirt. However, I hardly noticed the difference between the pressure on the bruise versus anywhere else. The masseuse was that firm and very strong. His knuckles never cracked once during the entire session.
My guy was a bit of a subtle jokester in the middle of a dimly lit room, where previously, in the waiting room, we had been “shushed” to maintain a peaceful atmosphere throughout the establishment. With a mischievous grin, without breaking the flow of his movements, he would surreptitiously untie the apron strings of his colleague sitting behind him, working on his own client. Later, my guy imprinted silly faces into the adjoining curtain–never breaking stride. As I listed to the “peaceful” mix on the iPod I was lent, his antics made me giggle through my gritted teeth.
RadioLab did a recent episode on pain. Experiencing pain voluntarily took on somewhat of a scientific experiment. The hot searing sensation of repeated sustained pressure on specific areas of my feet was different than I envisioned a foot massage would be. However, it felt . . . disciplinary. Fifty Shades of Gray-ish–although I haven’t read the book.
Getting a massage in Asia–I thought of my uncle’s surprise about his recent massage during his trip abroad. And also of my sister who received a phone call from her husband on business in Thailand, while she was at home caring for her two boys under the age of 3. Her husband described how he and his colleague were “recovering” from their Thai massages due to the intensity.
My sister mentioned that she was not interested in hearing about Thai massages while her boys were keeping her up at night and none of them maintaining consistent sleeping patterns.
Although her level of sympathy for her husband’s unexpected pain was low. I understand both sides now. But at these prices, will probably book another session.
Next time: Which Asian country to visit during the next school break? (Another international teacher’s, “everybody’s doing it” hot topic)