I got back from India two weeks ago and I’m sitting here wondering how that time flew by so quickly. It seems time moves in some quasi physics equation related to the number of days I've been away. Hopefully, that means after this weekend life will resume a more manageable pace. In my spare moments, I've been sorting, deleting and key wording (the bane of photography) about 3,000 images. I'm trying to skim the best of the best off the top so that I can share a manageable amount of photos with all of you. Please bare with me a wee bit longer (200 is still too many). Part of that process is in the writing and deciding what to share. So as the story takes shape, it will be clear which pictures deserve to share the space.
There is one incident that I have no photos for (that I know of) and will not fit in with the 3 part series I'm thinking about posting. So let me start with it first. Consider it the cartoon at the beginning of the main attraction.
About two-thirds into my 17-day excursion into India, my butt could not take it anymore. We had driven from New Delhi to Agra, Jaipur, Ranthanbore, back to Jaipur and then flown to Udaipur. My tush was toast. So it was one afternoon that I found myself with enough time to go get an Indian style massage. I should point out that I've experienced massage in a variety of countries, and yet none had quite prepared me for my Indian encounter. Not far from this palace in Udaipur, Christopher had a revealing experience
Knowing that I held some sway over a group of travelers, the manager of the establishment slashed the price and we decided on a treatment - a combination of a total body massage for my aches and a head and sinus treatment for a head cold I was also baring. As I am a man (no laughing), I was assigned a male masseur and away we went.
The style of massage comes from the far south of India from Kerala. It is a region rich in culture and history and I hope to visit there one day. All the staff haled from Kerala, as did the massage tables, equipment and the oil (did I mention it was an oil massage?).
My masseur took me to a rather large room that lacked much in decor, had mint green walls and instructed me to take of my clothes while he fired up a small gas burner on the floor to heat the oil. I was down to my underwear and he said, "Everything." Now naked, in what was beginning to feel more like an operating room, I stepped up to the table and lay on my back.
He began to apply the oil – starting with my head. Yes, he massaged a fair quantity of it into my scalp and hair, slicked it back and then began to massage the oil into my body. The interesting thing about it, aside from the wicked 1950’s hairstyle, was the technique. The massage stroke began at the ankle and went clear up the leg and torso to the shoulder, down to the wrist and then all the way back to the ankle again. This was the main stroke used. And while I found it different from anywhere else I had encountered massage, it did not equal a better massage.
Finally, after doing this to both sides, front and back, he applied a few drops of the oil into each nostril and vigorously massaged the outside of my nose and sinuses. He then had me sit down and hold my head under a steaming kettle (still naked) to breath in the steam, which at first felt blazing due to the oil. After a few minutes of deep breathing this torture…I mean technique, he massaged my face and scalp some more and we were done. After a hasty toweling off, he stood back and asked me what I thought of the massage as I sat on the table, still in the nude. It is fair to say that whenever you are in such a situation, it is best to compliment the one who has served you. This I had the foresight to do.
Although the body massage itself will pose no threat to the dominance of Thai and Chinese massage in Asia, it did help take the pain out of my behind. Surprisingly, my sinuses where greatly improved the next day too. Enough so that I recommend it as a cold treatment, but only if you can keep your clothes on. Had that been my first encounter with massage, I most likely would never get another body rub anywhere. Just to be sure I had no permanent emotional massage trauma, I endured a two-hour Chinese body and foot massage this evening with two therapists. No need to worry, I’ll be back for more.
Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak. - Will C.