Thai Massage

     I get a weekly 2 hour Thai massage that costs me $13 including a 30% tip. (Start the hate mail now, I fully appreciate how completely unreal that is.) I’ve been seeing the same lady, Dteeng, since I moved into my apartment. She. Is. Incredible. Each week she shows my body who is boss. She seeks out my knotted muscles and pummels them into submission. She pretzels my body to lengthen my muscles and stretch out every last ligament. She pops my toes, cracks my hands, and gives me a forehead massage so divine I am temporarily without my usual creases (soon to be wrinkles). If someone told me she had divine powers I would believe them. She is that fantastic.
     Thai massage is much different than the Americanized Swedish massage that is standard back home. In fact, there is very little they have in common save for the name. Massage here is a hybrid of guided yoga and deep tissue massage . There is no nudity, instead you change into more modest and easier to manipulate clothing (thai fisherman pants and a scrubs top). There is no moisturizing of the skin. You lay on the floor, on a dense mattress pad, instead of a specialized table. The masseuse uses hands, elbows, feet, knees, and whatever other body parts are convenient to manipulate your body and really dig in. There are times where they might be standing on you or you might have your head in their lap. And, often, the full experience is equal parts painful and pleasurable.
     Thai massage follows a pretty standard sequence of maneuvers. My lady always begins with a brief blood circulation cut-off to my legs by pinching the main blood supply vessels, up near my hips, for a minute or so. She accomplishes this by balancing in the plank position at the ideal point to accomplish a stop in circulation. The whooshing of warm blood back into my tingling, cool limbs offers instant relaxation... sounds odd but it is really neat when done right.  She then works on each leg individually, hitting pressure points and pulling/stretching them across my body. After legs, she moves to hands/arms. The same blood vessel pinching technique is used to begin. She then goes from palms to fingers, to wrists and up to the shoulder on each side. She then asks me to turn onto my side, into a sleeping position. She stretches my glutes and digs into them, often enough to make me winch. Some pretty intense chest and back opening stretches follow and I switch sides for the repeat. I then turn onto my stomach. She has learned that I have a surprisingly solid back and is not shy about really working out any kinks I might have. She then proceeds to do more pressure point work on my calves and the back of my knees and pops/loosens my ankles by pushing my legs, crossed, into the base of my spine. The grand finale comes when she seats herself behind me and asks me to lay in a pillow in her lap. Pressure points on my face and scalp are massaged in sequence. (This part is usually my favorite... a good face massage is pure bliss for me) She balances me out my sitting me in a cross legged position, pulling up my arms to lengthen my spine, then literally rolling backwards... pulling me along with her for the final, satisfying spinal pop.
      I usually try to drink a substantial amount of water after a massage because many Thais claim that the ‘toxins’ that are released during such an endeavor can cause illness. I’m not sure that this has any scientific credence (I remain highly doubtful) but it is a nice way to do a mini detox/flush while I am in the mindset of body care.
      I am a pretty limber person but I can say, hands down, that getting a regular Thai massage has loosened up hamstrings and back muscles that were holding years worth of tension. I’m a stress induced tensor... I grit my teeth, furrow my brow, and knot up my back at the first sign of physical or mental distress. I am now more keen to catch these habits as I am doing them and feel as though my body exists in a state of relaxation more frequently than before I moved here. Maybe its the culture, maybe its the Thai massage. Who knows. For now, I am thanking my lucky stars for the availability of such pampering and trying not to think about the day I return to the land of expensive, soft-handed massages. I’ll take a beating by Dteeng over that any day.

It Never Gets Easier

     I’m the type of person who gets misty eyed watching Folgers commercials. I’ve cried audibly while sitting in a movie theatre. I get teary eyed at the most mundane and simple of things. It’s a little silly but I’ve always tried to spin it as a positive.... At least I am not some cut-throat, jaded, coldhearted person who is desensitized to situations where one should be upset. Right?  I understand that I probably shouldn’t be so moved by a 30second video hawking coffee but I’m okay with shedding a tear when I witness injustice, suffering or heartbreak on the big screen or in the real world. 
     Now, put this in context in Bangkok. On any given day, I walk by people, their faces muddied with street filth, their clothes in tatters, who are begging for change. Sometimes it is a woman swaddling a baby. Sometimes it is an armless person, holding the change cup between their teeth. Sometimes it is a blind person, a speaker/boombox strung around their neck, microphone in hand who is shuffling down a bustling sidewalk singing for tips. On the train it might be a man on a roller cart, pulling himself down the aisle, his legs missing just below his hips. The other night it was man missing all his limbs, about my age, who had one of the most beautiful smiles I have ever seen. I am not exaggerating when I say these people are everywhere. I counted them once on a random morning on my commute to work. 9. 9 people in various states of poverty, disability, and despair. 9 people in my tiny sliver of the city that I tread in 20 minutes to get to work. I can only imagine how many there are in total.
     This whole story is complicated by the half-knowledge that many of these people are being exploited by underground gang that puts them on the street to beg in exchange for a guarantee of meager daily food and a place to sleep that is not a sidewalk. It is well known that many of the woman with babies may not actually be mothers but are just using the child as a pawn to garner more money. Every written word of advice states to avoid giving to these people because, by doing so, you ‘buy in’ to and perpetuate the cycle of their exploitation. It is the biggest catch-22, no-win situation. 
     To say it is heart wrenching would be an injustice. In my first weeks, I had to wear my sunglasses to hide brimming eyes when I passed these people. I would find myself clumsily drying my cheeks several times a day. I made a promise to myself that I would not give them money but, if particularly upset, I would buy a bit of street food for them. I told myself that as time went by it would get easier. 
     It hasn’t and, 6 months in, I realize it won’t. I’ve managed to train myself to look at them less. I’ve found a route to work that involves a different bus stop and an unnecessary street crossing to limit my commute encounters to 2 or 3. But, if I make the mistake of even thinking about their plight for a millisecond, I cry. 
    And, really, I’m happy I do. I hope I never become immune to human suffering. It seems that so many of humanity’s problems would be solved if more people acted with humanity. Now, if only I could turn these tears into a solution... 

My Love Affair with Street Food

      I adore Thai street food. Love it. LOVE it. Eat it every single day and, if I don’t, miss it like crazy. I never get sick of sitting down on a faded plastic stool, often with questionable carry-capacity, scooting up to a metal card table, and chowing down on freshly prepared deliciousness. It will never get old and I can guarantee that it will be something that I mourn losing before I leave. 
  For many Westerners, street food is a bit iffy. Ordering food from a cart displaying is various raw wares and eating such food whilst sitting on the sidewalk is not something that 1st world citizens do with any frequency. Questions of sanitation are probably to first to pop up. Then there is the worry about what precisely one is eating. Fair enough. I get the initial apprehension. But, if you are going to come to Thailand (or any of Southeast Asia, India, Central/South America, or China....all places where street food is king) it is a tourist crime not to indulge in street food on multiple occasions. Get over the sanitation bit. I would rather see the person (and the hand) that is cooking my dinner than have them cloaked behind a kitchen door.  No, the food cart might not make an ‘A’ on a US health department scorecard but I doubt my kitchen in the States would do much better. Furthermore, Thais eat street food everyday themselves. If there were some hidden sanitation crisis I guarantee that street carts wouldn’t be frequented by families day after day. Not every country bathes in hand sanitizer. You’ll live. Promise. 
  The really delightful thing about street food is its variance. You won’t see a measuring cup or spoon-set. Instead, you’ll watch a street-chef prepare a meal from scratch, in minutes, from memory. Amazing in and of itself. Recipes vary by vendor, by street, by province, by region. For instance, in Bangkok, the som-tom makers understand my tender (by thai-standards) palate with regard to spice quotient... They understand my ‘pheed nit noy na ka’ to mean 1-2 chiles at maximum. But outside of Bangkok? In the heart of Issaan ‘pheed nit noy na ka’ seems to translate to: ‘I’d like to feel my tongue again, if it takes a day or two thats okay, just so long as it is not permanently in fire’. Not that I am complaining... I think that eating locally, on the street, in the proverbial gastronomic trenches is that quickest and easiest way to immerse myself in the particularities of a place. Where else can I get a literal taste of local culture while people watching, finding out the local gossip, and breathing in the sights/sounds/smells of an area? All this and the knowledge that I am supporting local people and eating (mostly) local agricultural products... Never have I ever been so satisfied with a meal on so many levels.

New Years and My Resolutions

I recognize that this is a full month late. I've been busy with with and a whirlwind visit from my folks. Just now starting to post backlogged posts. Bear with me na ka.

      I celebrated the arrival of 2011 with a couple hundred thousand of Bangkok’s finest folks in the CentralWorld plaza. Lucky for me, my Mercer colleagues had the forethought and patience to reserve a table for our group at a beer garden so that we didn’t have to play crowd sardines as 2010 rolled away. To say that our table wasn’t crowded would be generous but we had seats, easy-access to beer, and a bit more space than those standing in the crowds. It was well worth it. We grooved (er, winced) to the tunes of a Thai rock band whose power ballads were an interesting departure from my folksy preferences. Let’s just say I won’t be first (or last) in line if they go on tour. 
       All that aside, the company was stellar and, really, what more could you ask for in NYE? Even with the power ballads and cramped seating all I could do was smile. I sipped my beer, reveled at the masses, and made a grand fool of myself as we counted down to 2011... hooting, hollering, and white-girl dancing galore. Just as the clock struck midnight, all craziness broke loose. First it was a mist. Then it was a downpour. Before we knew it the entire area was engaged in a full-blown Chang beer fight. I’d like to think that everyone got as soaked as we were but, to be fair, I do believe our group, as the only farang in sight, were targeted by festive/care-free thais. I didn’t mind from the start, but there were a few in our group who got understandably peeved to be doused with beer. I chalked it up to a necessary and utterly-memorable way to ring in my first Bangkok new years and flung water and beer right back at them. I’m sure I was a sight to behold, especially when I continued, damp with beer, onto our favorite dancing haunt. The next morning I woke up, counted my lucky stars for fabulous friends and guardian angels, and nursed my first (and hopefully last) Chang-over of my time here. Whew, what a night.


Its taken me a few days of introspection but I have come up with a few resolutions/goals for 2011:
1. Be gentle with myself. A line from Desidrata, also known as my mantra, and good advice on physical, emotional, bodily, spiritual, professional, and personal levels. Noted and striving for.
2. Meditate everyday... even if I can only squeeze in 10 minutes. I feel better, think better, and am happier if I do.
3. Chew my food more thoroughly. Eating with Thais has made me realize that I am a virtual food vacuum. I can inhale a plate of food in the time it takes them to chew their first two bites. Not healthy, not smart, and probably a good habit to break. 


Here's to a joyous, adventure filled year overflowing with love, love, love.