Rishikesh and the Ayurvedic Massage

First off, I would like to apologize to the Aussie sitting next to me since I currently stink (and look) of Ayurvedic massage oil.

I left McLeod Ganj and Dharamsala yesterday to another farewell from some of the students and set off for Rishikesh.

I arrived this morning (5:30am) into Dhera Dun on a bus, where I had to find another bus to take me to Rishikesh. Sorry people - I almost threw away all your souvenirs, as carting around two bags is a pain in my ass. But, luckily my amazing willpower kept it together and I tottered onto a bus (I had to pay for two people since I had too much crap - a total of $1).

After making it to Rishikesh, I called hotel after hotel until I found one that had available rooms (Mama's Guest Cottage) and tried to find a rickshaw to take me there. However, since the hotel is up on a hill - I had to get a taxi, as rickshaws don't quite have the horsepower...

So basically I got to my room at 9:00am, took a shower, and passed out.

Is it bad if I am alone in a new city and can't be bothered to do anything? It's hot and humid, and my trip is coming to an end. I've had a wonderful time, but to be totally honest with you (and myself) - I'm tired. I just want to spend the next two days relaxing in my nice $7 room with a comfy bed and a shower.

I forced myself to get some food - and after three weeks of amazing Tibetan food, I must admit I was craving Indian food a little. I then did the next logical thing. Booked a massage. Hey, I am in the yoga, massage, and other-relaxing-things capital of India.

Which brings us to the highlight of this blog. Oh, and if you're uncomfortable with talk of my nudity - I recommend you stop here.

For a country that in some ways is so modest - in some ways it is SO not.

The "massage parlor" is basically a little shack with some dividing walls - as you sit in the "waiting room" you can hear people's backs being slapped (I'm assuming that's what I heard). I arrived for my massage and the masseuse came a few seconds later - I think they must call them in when someone makes an appointment. So, me and the lady (at least a foot shorter than me) went into a room that is semi-separated from the lobby.

Then she told me (with gestures) to strip. I know it's all the same in the end, but in America when you get a massage, they politely leave you alone in the room for an eternity - allowing you to take off your clothes, fold them, and arrange yourself flatteringly on the bed (and under a sheet) while contemplating the extent of your nudity. Here - no such luxury. Just a little Indian woman watching me strip. But no worries, she too took off the bottoms of her salwar kameez and changed into leggings. Again, such a good thing she left her head covering on, because then I would have been really embarrassed.

So, I lay down on my stomach on a mat on the floor (no hole-for-the-head massage tables here!) and the massage begins. Really, not so different from any other massage - except for that her hands were so rough. But, I can't complain since my legs aren't exactly silky smooth. Just as I am thinking - "Wow, this isn't so different," I hear a sound you never think you will hear during a massage..."MOOOOOOOO!" Ah, yes, there is a cow wandering around right outside the window. So much for CDs of waves crashing on the shore, or of thunderstorms.

Then she flips me over onto my back. I literally mean SHE FLIPS ME OVER. I was just laying there all nice and covered, and then BAM. I didn't dwell on it for long though, because soon I became annoyed with the fact that my boobs are small enough that she could massage my ribs. Yes, my ribs - all of them. After my "rib" massage, she moved onto my face. Did you know that would could have your nose massaged? I mean really, your nose? Being the excellent, though jobless, Speech-Language Pathologist that I am, I know that there is, in fact, at least one muscle on your nose - but honestly, does it ever really need a massage? I would much rather her have spent more time on my ear lobes. =).

Next, my knees were brought up (not so gently) to my head. Yes Kim, you would be surprised at how flexible I can be when covered in oil and forced into pliability by a 4-foot-tall Indian lady.

So the massage continued as expected - in strange positions, covered in strange oils, manipulated by a strange lady.

Finally, when it was all over, she wiped all the oil off with a towel. Again, with the modesty. It's a little strange to be standing there (a giant by Indian standards), completely naked, looking down at a little lady crawling around your feet drying your legs, and then your "ribs", while you hear the sounds of cows mooing and motorcycles revving outside.

Now, back to my room for a good shower. =)

Oh, and I booked another for tomorrow.