The place offered a full menu of options from aromatherapy to deep tissue massage. Each treatment was accompanied by a detailed description, but the words "Deep Tissue Massage" was all I needed to read and I signed my sore body up for one immediately. When it was time for my massage I was escorted to a small building where two nice Indian gentleman were waiting with big smiles. In India it is very much out of bounds for a woman to give a man a massage or vice versa. The men showed me to the bathroom where they asked me to change into the clothing provided and then to come out when I was ready. After entering the tiny bathroom and beginning to disrobe, I took a closer look at the article of clothing dangling from the hook, the one I was meant to change into. There really wasn't much to examine as it was just a piece of cotton cloth with several loose ties dangling from each side. Standing there naked I took it off the hook and tried to make sense of it. Despite a bit of initial confusion it didn't take too long to realize that in my hand I was holding a 100% cotton g-string. Suddenly, the dangling ties made perfect sense- there was the one that loops up and behind and the others to wrap around the waist with a perfect little isosceles triangle in the front. The pleasure I had in solving this little puzzle was quickly replaced with shock knowing that I was expected to actually put this little g-string on and prance on out to my smiling masseuses. Priding myself on my open mind and my zest for trying new and different things I decided to continue with my treatment. So I tied on the g-string and gingerly opened to door to await my fate.
The two guys guided me to a chair where I sat down feeling relieved that my entire ass was no longer exposed. Then one of them began to rub oil in my hair and begin to smack me on the back of the head. Despite the pain and the throbbing from the incessant blows to the skull when he asked if it was okay, I immediately replied yes. Finally, he stopped and I was almost relieved when he asked me to stand up. I then walked with them over to a large mat that was lying on the floor- it looked like one that would be used in the Olympics for gymnastics. Above the mat were two thick ropes that were hanging down from the ceiling. Their reason for these ropes no doubt puzzled me but I ignored them for the time being. The men then asked me to lye down on my back on the mat. As I did so one of the men retrieved two bowls filled with oil and placed one on each side of my body. Then each one of them, still smiling, grabbed a rope and dipped their bare feet into the bowl and began to smear the oil across my chest. Over the next ten minutes using this same technique they rubbed the oil into my neck, stomach arms and legs. It didn't take long for the mat to become drenched in oil and I was swishing and sliding all over it. During this trampling that I was victim to, I cannot say that I ever really felt that my deep tissues felt like they were being treated. Instead I was provided with more awkward discomfort than any real pain release. The fact that in the midst of this oil bath I had no idea whether I was still wearing my cotton thong just made it all that much more disorienting. Finally after a solid 40 minutes their feet just stopped moving which signaled that my treatment had ended. Attempting to stand-up in a pool of oil made me look like I was trying to do some kind of Kramer imitation, the fact that I was dying to get off that slimy mat only made the whole process more comical. I finally managed to get to my feet and slowly slide across the floor to the shower where I spent the next 10 minutes scraping away layers of oil and trying hard to not think too much about what the hell just happened.
The Ayurvedic Slip N Slide was a very popular toy in ancient times. The cotton G-string is the first ever undergarment to be mass produced. It's good that you're finding ways to connect with the past.
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