illustration – qloudblog

I had been persuaded to experience a traditional Thai Yoga Massage as I was about to visit Bangkok for the first time. Not one for being rubbed, rolled or touched by strangers, personal space is important to me, I was apprehensive about the whole situation. My girlfriend, now wife, was all for it. She was looking forward to having muscles stretched, bones rubbed and ligaments bent. Close friends had given us the contact details of a reputable and highly patronised establishment, where we made our reservation with no turning back.

My knowledge and understanding of massages are quite limited and to be honest, astoundingly ignorant. As a junior Australian Rules footballer in my youth, I was experienced in receiving the odd calf, hamstring or shoulder rub with deep heat by a middle-aged bloke who held a casual position as a trainer on weekends. However, this was back in the early 80’s and my awareness of health and well-being, sensuality and massage techniques were non-existent.

A few decades later, I had experienced the wonders of deep tissue massage through foot reflexology, I even hit the jackpot once, landing a 12 fingered masseuse to work wonders on my pressure points. I had even received a relaxing back massage, with those fragrant oils splashing about on my torso, as part of a stay at a spa retreat. I had managed to overcome my personal space anxieties and eventually enjoy the benefits of being felt up, with consent, by a stranger.

However, this was different. This was all new to me. Thailand, isn’t that where naughty sex things happen? I’d seen plenty of exposés on the television about ladyboys, mail-order brides, sex tours and all the other perversions that Westerners have transplanted to the happiest society in the world. And what is Thai Yoga? I had seen Muay Thai kickboxing, that’s boxing but with your feet, I knew very little about Yoga apart from the fact that Sting did it. What makes Thai yoga so different from other yoga that it gets its own descriptor? These were some of the silly bits invading my mind generating anxiety and causing me to almost forget my passport.

This all took place pre-Google, so research in a short period of time tended to involve questions to friends who had experienced it before, I did notice the slight smirk on their face as they responded, and reading as many travel guides as possible.

The day had arrived. We had breakfasted at our hotel, chosen light fitting clothing and ordered a taxi to skillfully navigate through the confusing traffic flow of Bangkok and deliver us safely to the establishment offering relaxing, healing and what sounded like magical tension relief. I spent the entire journey looking out the window of the car in a state of distress. Looking back, I can only imagine what a passer-by might have thought when they saw my face staring out of that car window. A bit like when you’re on a roller-coaster ride and you are exhilarated as you are whipped around at a rapid pace and you can feel laughter and excitement within however when you see a photo or video of your experience you look petrified.

The taxi pulled into the property, my anxiety was immediately lowered as the establishment presented itself in a palace-like building with a glorious tended garden and decorative traditional plant pots. We made our way in and were greeted with a chorus of Sawadika by everyone in the vicinity. We responded, made our bows and were presented with cups of fragrant tea and small packages of clothing to be changed into for the session. I quickly surveyed the environment, reception desk, various plants, water features, Thai textiles, traditional decor and the soothing aroma of oils and tea. There were five Thai ladies standing to one side, all smiling, wearing traditional Thai masseuse outfits. They were petite. I’m not a very tall man but I am tall, especially in Asia. I estimated my body weight and theirs and could feel myself starting to relax as I calculated that it was very unlikely that I could be harmed during the massage. I smiled. They smiled. We all smiled.

We were ushered into the individual rooms to disrobe and change into the loose-fitting uniform consisting of a top and Thai pants, which I had never encountered before, that had no buttons or elastic around the waist but merely a lot of material and a rather long ribbon. Two things immediately caused me concern. How do I tie the pants and do I leave my undies on? I decided that underwear stays on and I swiftly over-lapped the top of the pants, creating a kind of turtleneck effect around my waist, and tied the ribbon in a bow. Stepping through the curtain of the changing room I noticed my girlfriend, looking every bit the part, looking at me and my disaster of Thai pants fastening. My look of cluelessness was obvious as she expertly re-apparelled me and told me to try to relax. I decided to keep my underwear dilemma to myself.

There we were, standing in the anteroom, fully dressed and slippered for our session. The host was speaking to the staff in Thai, looking back and forth between us and them. Paperwork was exchanged and towels brought in. A very petite, smiling Thai masseuse approached my girlfriend and directed her into a room, we exchanged smiles and she was ushered through a curtain. Standing alone I looked across as the remaining staff exited and the host called out something in Thai. I was feeling quite relaxed and looking forward to the experience. I cleared my mind as I waited for my chosen masseuse to collect her towels and take me through to the massage room where my girlfriend was.

A beaded curtain behind the reception area parted as one of the smiling staff walked through with her pile of towels, I smiled at her as she walked straight past me through to the other room. I turned to see if she would glance back to indicate for me to follow but she had not made any signal. I heard the beaded curtain behind me rattle, so I turned in anticipation of instruction.

There stood, smiling, the Hulk.

She was slightly shorter than me with a body mass that outweighed me three times over. I did an involuntary classic double-take and muttered ‘For fu..’ under my breath. Perhaps noticing my reaction, I’m pretty sure my shoulders had descended five inches as they do in moments of distress, the host attempted to explain the calculations of my size and the requirements of pressure needed in order for the massage to be effective. She smiled, my newly appointed mighty masseuse smiled and I was looking like I had gas and had just bumped my head on a door frame as my stoop had dropped so low.

We entered the room where my girlfriend was already positioned on a mat sipping tea. She saw my posture and gave me a look and signal to stand straight, behind me entered my masseuse. Happiness is something that everyone can achieve in their own way. Comedy or humour is something that happens at different levels for different people at different times, it’s complicated. I wasn’t quite at the stage of viewing this situation as humourous, yet my girlfriend was reacting as if she had just heard the greatest joke in the universe. Once she had composed herself and wiped laughter tears from her cheeks, she gave me an ‘oh well Charlie Brown’ sigh and told me to go with it.

And so it began. I lay on my stomach taking in the calming aroma as Gigantor commenced to ceremoniously finger my energy lines and pressure points. As the session progressed, I was starting to appreciate the act, or should I say the art? Stretching, or being professionally stretched, and using muscles that had never seen the light of day is somewhat exhilarating. There were moments when I thought that I couldn’t take anymore, especially when she was putting pressure on sensitive areas like the groin and asking if it was painful only to respond to my affirmative reply with ‘good, pain is good!’. I’m not afraid to admit that I was internally crying.

So there was one hour of my life that initially, I was dreading, only to come out enlightened and as relaxed as I have ever been. Would I do it again? Well, it’s over ten years later and I never have. But that may be because I don’t think I would get the same satisfaction that I received when I first experienced it. Maybe it’s time. I’m more aware, experienced and appreciative. Only thing I’ll do differently next time is to choose briefs instead of boxers, as keeping your dignity in place whilst wearing very loose clothing and being forcefully trampled by a lady should be given high priority for a gentleman.

I generously tipped my masseuse for not breaking me.