Thai Massage Ooff Ooff Ooff

Part 2.2: Judgement and Language

I had a Thai massage today. First time. I came back and wrote nonsensical phrases wrought with meaning. Warm butter hands. Cool stone tiles worn smooth by a million bare feet. Sebastian's feet. In my armpit. Flash of right side pain from firstborn. Lighting then gone. Forever? Supine. Ooff ooff ooff. 

Sebastian hands me folded white clothes. Oh no. Will it pop open like the spa robe? Will its tie snap like the papery, stringy under-thing I was given for the exfoliation? I better just tell him--it's unlikely to fit. But he unfolds the Tai Chi wrap pants and they look manageable. He unfolds the white t-shirt that says Guanahani on the back and I guess I can get into it.

The first ten minutes of the massage confuses me. I'm face down. Sebastian is thin but tall. Not a waif by any means. But he is kneeling on me--on my back, the back of my legs--but he feels like a gentle little cat kneading me on a sunny Sunday afternoon couch nap. Where is his weight? 

I ask him in English if he learned this massage in Thailand. "Yes," he says. I ask how a tall man like him becomes a little cat. I'm sure he won't understand this random thought in English. But he whisper-giggles and says complicitly, "Yes like a mini cat. A micro cat. People have said me this."

During the rest of the massage, I dream of asking him the following questions:

Can I ask you some questions?

Can I ask you in French?

Est-ce que c'est plus difficile de faire ce massage sur une femme grande comme moi? [Is it difficult to do this massage on a big woman like me?]

Est-ce que je suis flexible?

Tu penses que je suis quel age?

Est-ce que tu as senti une difference entre mes deux cotes? Parce que j'ai senti un douleur sur mon cote droit que je n'ai pas senti depuis que mon premier enfant etait ne. [Did you feel a difference between my two sides? Because I felt a pain on my right side that I haven't felt since my first child was born.]

Can I keep this outfit?

Then I fretted over using "tu" but fretted even more over not getting the "vous" conjugations right. I kept going over the questions and how I should look him in the eye and take my time. I told myself I deserved his time. And that he too would be interested in answering these questions. Yes! It is my duty to ask these questions so he knows what his clients are wondering. I have to represent! 

Then I sighed inside and knew I wouldn't ask the questions. 

But when he finished, I lifted my arms toward him in gest--like Oh no, don't let it be over! He thought I needed help up. I sat up (on my own thank you) and he did a little bonus massage on my shoulders as I thanked him over and over and said I felt great. Right before he walked out, telling me he'd "wait me outside," I quickly blurted, "Can I keep this outfit?" He sweetly obliged, saying, "Yes, yes of course no problem."

 

I stepped out into the white hot sunlight. I was blinded for a moment but I could feel him come near. I found courage. I started asking my question about the difference in my two sides. His response was warm and genuine. So I asked all my other questions. In French! 

He said no it was not more difficult to massage a big woman. He adapts to the signs of each different body. Yes, he found me to be quite flexible. He thought I was 44...or did he say 42? Then I said, "Je sent ... jolie." And he said, "Tu es jolie." 

Merci Sebastian. Merci. Because being confident sure is easier when a man who can transform into a cat says you are pretty.