Have you ever had a massage that was just so bad that you had to ask the masseur to stop?
You know I have!
My last day in Singapore and Jodes and I thought we would treat ourselves. She knew of a local place although she hadn't been there before and when it comes to massages I trust Jode's judgement as she herself is a qualified masseur and Chinese Medicine Practitioner so she knows her stuff - even if she hasn't been there! (NB: not that I'm blaming her at all)
We arrived and asked for a 60 minute body massage and then a 40 minute foot massage.
I was excited.
I laid out on the table and placed my face thusly into the hole. So far, so good. When my lady came in, it appeared that she didn't speak any English, only Mandarin, which is fine as Jodes is fluent enough to get by after living in Shanghai for 7 years and also, her first language was Mandarin and we didn't really need to speak to each other except when I needed to ask her to stop. She understood 'Stop'.
She started with a light rubbing of my back and when I say light rubbing, think of the motion you would use to ruffle a young boy's hair or perhaps drying a wet dog. It wasn't relaxing and it didn't feel good. I thought that perhaps this is just how she started and that maybe it would get better.
I was wrong.
The light rubbing was followed by some random patting, banging, slapping and poking. All of which did not feel good. If she could see my face, which was firmly in the hole, she would see that I had an expression of both pain, and confusion. But I laid there in the hope that it would get better and that I wouldn't have to ask her to stop.
Through my mind ran broken Chinglish conversations with me explaining that I didn't want her to go on and then trying to explain, without hurting her feelings, that what she was doing was pure torture and that she should perhaps think about a different profession. I then went through what types of professions she could go for..... just in case she asked!
I found that this train of thought took my mind off what was happening outside of that face hole. Then I would click back into the now and think to myself that this can't go on, this is ridiculous and I shouldn't have to pay for this. Then in a continuous round about way, my thoughts would go back to "but how do I tell her?"
She asked me to turn over onto my back and she started to do 'something' on my face, but it wasn't as this picture below would suggest. It was a like a tapping motion coupled with a bit of slapping and skin pulling and that is what brought the whole debacle to an end..... or so I thought.
STOP!
"No, No, you'll have to stop that. No, that doesn't feel good."
"Sorry Madam"
And that was that, but she did continue down my legs - poking and kneading and pinching. I longed to see my watch, which I had placed into my bag before I got onto this God forsaken table, so I could see just how much of this I was going to have to endure. I mean, she obviously felt that I held a lot of tension under my kneecaps. Have you ever had the underside of your kneecaps massaged? It's not a nice feeling, not one you're likely to repeat.
I could hear Jodes in the next cubicle, as we were only separated by a thin curtain and she was chatting and laughing with her lady in Mandarin. "Why?" I thought, "Why me?"
Finally, it was over then it occurred to me that we had also booked a 40 minute foot massage that was to take place out in the 'foot area'. Would I get the same lady? Could I ask for a different lady? Would that effect how she is paid? Did it really mean that much to me? Should I just stop whinging? Was it my right to ask for someone else? My mind was in turmoil!
I came out and before I could make any decision about what to do next, I was sat down and left for a minute. Jodes joined me a minute later and sighed deeply as she sat in the chair next to me. "Oh, how great was that?" she said. "Um........ it was interesting", I replied. Just then the two ladies came back and started on our feet. There was no time or opportunity to say anything.
I was quite apprehensive.
Then, everything felt good. She was really good at feet! When you do feet, you also do legs and she was surprisingly good at that too. Had she redeemed herself? Could she make me forget the last hour of my life - because goodness knows I wasn't get that time back!
40 minutes later and I was feeling good. The only pain I had was now etched into my memory. But I was able to walk away relatively happy.
Have I learned a lesson? I'm not quite sure. I'll continue to have massages and some of them will probably be from people where I don't know their skill level. Will I ever speak up if a massage is not to my liking? Probably not, because if I did, I wouldn't have had a story to tell you!
Now, drink lots of water and relax for the rest of the day.
Namaste
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