My cousin Judy loves massages. Spas in particular. She’s always on the lookout for some new and exotic place to try. Once in a while, she would call with exciting news of a new spa.
Recently Ayurvedic Spas have become very popular and it is actually deceptively easy for conventional spas to put on an Ayurvedic facade.
Signature Chopstick Massage. Say what?
The masseur explains that it was something she learnt from her grandmother.
“And why didn’t our dead grandmother teach us this, if it’s so good,” I said sarcastically to deter Judy.
“Haiz, Dee Dee, our grandmother was busy teaching Peranakan cooking classes lah.” Judy says flatly. Her eye glazes over as she pores over the pamphlets.
Our downfall, all these pamphlets promising stuff we want to believe in.
“It may sound simple but we use a certain type of special chopsticks only. Five pairs and not a chopstick more than that. Or the wrong design. That is dangerous and you could end up with blot clots all over.” the masseur explains.
“So chopstick rain down ah? Isn’t that painful?” I interject.
Before I could protest further or make any more sarcastic comments, we have signed up, paid for our vouchers and dress down in our paper thongs and bandanna bikini top.
“Chopstick massages are specialised treatments that only a trained beautician can perform,” comes the cute reply when I ask about her credentials.
She, the beautician oils the bundle of ten wooden chopsticks and begins with the three primary movements: tapping, kneading and pressing on pressure points.
Apparently tapping takes the tension out of stressed muscles. Kneading takes away muscular tension and negative heat. Finally applying pressure on acupressure point unblocks the ‘chi’ (energy) to relieve stress.
The beautician is obviously trained by a competent grandmother. She wields the chopsticks expertly with a loose bundle of ten chopsticks. The chopstick makes a ruckus with their rolling motion and she beats down on the soles of my feet, rather than tap on them. It is rather a nice novelty to be beaten this way. Judy will like this play on S&M.
She rolls the chopsticks all up and down the back of my legs, calves and hamstrings which is soothing. I didn’t realise how tired my legs are.
The beautician remarks happily that my skin is getting redder due to the release of “wind” from the neck and shoulder area. She says the knots out can be scrapped out with two chopsticks, pressing down hard and pushing from my nape to the shoulder blades. After that she starts to poke the chopsticks into the acupressure points.
It is painful but still bearable until she uses the chopsticks on the tender underside of my arms near the triceps areas.
Huh huh huh….
What fun is that?
1
Malay Traditional Spa
The first spa we tried together is located in a hypermarket’s Mall. The setup and interior is modest with a distinct Malay flavour: plastic flowers everywhere, hanging from rattan and wicker baskets from the ceiling. Place high on cabinets or even low in terra cotta pots. We thought we had entered a bridal boutique by mistake.
After we changing into batik sarongs, tied modestly, we sit on cool 1960's rattan circle chair with batik cushion. At the foot of the chair, lay a timber basin filled with warm water, flower petals and halved Kaffir Lime also known as limau purut.
Sweet!
The masseurs start us off with a foot bath: a symbolic gesture to the start of our pampering.
We wriggle our toes playfully in the warm water, pushing the flower petals with our toes and laugh.
The soak’s relaxing and surprisingly intimate as the masseur starts to massage our feet, toes and heel.
She sits on a low stool, bends over to scoop water with both hands to pour over our shins. The masseur mixes the Epsom salts with a few drops of lavender essential oil to gently exfoliate and scrub away dry skin. It feels surprisingly good.
Judy sighs loudly, “This is the best treatment for sky-high heels. You know how my feet hurt after walking around for five minutes.”
“Yes, but remember those heels also make you feel sexy and powerful, Judy. But they’re a killer,” I grin, and lean back in my seat.
We’ve grown accustomed to the dim light and can relax.
There’s little red light in a corner on the floor. It looks like a menacing one eyed nasty waiting to pounce on my tootsies. I squint and could make out a rotund shape about twelve inches high. It appears to be letting off a little steam.
Haiz, the masseurs are cooking their food in the massage room! What a thought. I said to myself, I’ll deal with this later.
After the foot baths, we climb on our massage bed and lay on our stomachs. The masseur loosens our sarongs and covers our back with a towel, exposing one leg. She begins by flexing our foot and working her deft fingers on the balls of our feet, soles and massaging and tugging at each toe and cracking it.
Slowly she returns to rub our heel and work her way up the back of our knee. She glides her hand over the calf muscle to warm it up, working form the ankle to the knee, squeezing with both hands. The she begins to roll the calf muscle, returning to the ankle and working her way up the knee again. She bends our leg so that it was at a ninety degree angle and pressed down while rolling her fists vigorously into our calf muscles on either side of our shin.
Slowly she returns to rub our heel and work her way up the back of our knee. She glides her hand over the calf muscle to warm it up, working form the ankle to the knee, squeezing with both hands. The she begins to roll the calf muscle, returning to the ankle and working her way up the knee again. She bends our leg so that it was at a ninety degree angle and pressed down while rolling her fists vigorously into our calf muscles on either side of our shin.
We wince.
She repeats the motions thrice, when she feels our body relax, she starts drumming the entire muscle ending at the soles.
She starts off with a gentle massage, as we relax she start us on a harder, deeper and more intense pressure. She repeats the process on our thighs: First one leg then the other.
She begins on our back, starting with the back of our neck and shoulder which is prone to stiffness and tension. She uses her thumb and fingers to probe our hard and stiff neck muscles to soften it.
The masseur then fans her palms outwards from our spine to the sides. She moves her hand back to the shoulder blades and then to the outer edge of the body away from the spine.
Then she starts kneading to smooth out the knots and kinks in our backs. She grabs and squeezes grabs and squeezes, moving to the next muscle, working around the shoulder area and back. The warm essential oil helps to glide her hands smoothly.
Then she starts kneading to smooth out the knots and kinks in our backs. She grabs and squeezes grabs and squeezes, moving to the next muscle, working around the shoulder area and back. The warm essential oil helps to glide her hands smoothly.
We start to relax and doze off.
The tinkering sound of someone opening and lifting something into a metal bowl woke us from our stupor. I thought sleepily, that maybe one of the masseurs has come into the room to grab lunch out of the slow cooker.
Strangely the food smells of lavender. “Kak,” my masseurs calls me. “I’m going to “tunku” with the hot stone first, ya?” She tests the warmth of the stone (a smooth River rock) which she wraps on a towel on her hand. The she begins pressing the warm bundle vertically in a clock wise pattern on our backs.
“The warmth of the hot stones relaxes the muscles, improves circulation and calms the nervous system,” the masseur explains.
It just feels so good.
I remember the same “tunku” treatment for colicky screaming babies which uses a heated compressed herbal ball with some of the most commonly used herbs such as turmeric, lemongrass, kaffir lime, camphor tree, tamarind and ginger.
Finally I understood, the masseurs used the slow cooker to cook the flat hot stones in a lavender oil bath.
Sigh… heavenly.
2
Ayurvedic Spa
Ayurvedic Spa
I have dinner at Boss’ restaurant every weekend. Normally he would linger and chat at my table. This time he waves a pamphlet excitedly. “You must try Dee Dee. This place is a first on Market Street. Indian Ayurvedic Spa. No joke. Very professional. Everyone’s who has been swears by it.”
I eye the pamphlet suspiciously. For ninety eight dollars per person; it promises a slice of heavenly bliss. Two hours forty minutes of spa experience. Foot bath, aromatherapy massage, steam bath, Jacuzzi and to finish off with a manicure and pedicure.
Sold.
I bought two vouchers and took Hiro along. We are at that make or break stage of our relationship. I thought a spa date would be a fine way to relax without bickering for a change.
Recently Ayurvedic Spas have become very popular and it is actually deceptively easy for conventional spas to put on an Ayurvedic facade.
Hiro is conservative by nature and it took almost a month of constant badgering before he agrees to try. We made an appointment with high expectations of a holistic treatment that would rejuvenate the mind, body and spirit.
We are looking out for that unique experience to immerse ourselves in ancient Indian culture and Ayurvedic Massage that promise to enliven marma points to awaken the pure unchanging quality of the unmanifested field of life within the physical body is connected to pure consciousness (the unified unmanefested field of all possibilities). Or something to that effect that as touted on the pamphlet.
“Rubbish,” Hiro said defiantly.
The electric foot bath and bright fluorescent lights of the first floor spa seem a dead giveaway of the disappointment in the offing.
I am dead stubborn. Hiro gives up arguing and allows himself to be subjected to the electric foot bath massager. I am quietly horrified but kept a calm face.
This man knows nothing better when it comes to spas and such and therefore can be lead astray!
After that, the masseurs lead us to the steam room. This is another fully tiled room that looks like a laundry area. We could see two washing machines in one corner.
The masseurs unzip the covering to reveal two electric rice cookers bubbling away steaming a herbal pouch below a wooden slotted stool. We are to climb inside and the masseurs zip us in, with our heads exposed. After that they place towels around our necks to keep the steam in.
Burried in, I thought ruefully.
Burried in, I thought ruefully.
“Wrap like a star fruit,” Hiro said in Hokkien.
The masseurs promise to check in on us after ten minutes. Hiro look menacingly at me. I ignore him and sang silly songs. After what felt like five minutes, it got a little warmer and we could feel our bodies sweat. Small salty beads of sweat forming gently. Feels surprisingly good. Hiro relaxes and dozes off.
Another ten minutes later we got really hot and bothered. The masseurs haven’t come back and we got into a panic when we discover that the zipper is only on the outside and it wasn't two way openable as we thought. We were trapped.
“My eggs are getting cooked!” Hiro shouts. “Hey, Hello! Come and open the door”
It was futile. The door in that room’s solid wood. We couldn’t even stand up. I tried to bend my head and use my tongue and teeth to grab the zipper's head.
It was futile. The door in that room’s solid wood. We couldn’t even stand up. I tried to bend my head and use my tongue and teeth to grab the zipper's head.
Our goose’s really cook this time. Hiro let fly with a few choice expletives. I add a few that made his eyes widen.
Finally we could hear the masseurs run down the stair and open the door to unzip us. We stare at the masseurs stonily.
The masseurs points at the clock on the wall. Exactly ten minutes has passed.
Panic. Totally another uncool chapter of my curried life.
3
Chopstick Massage
Chopstick Massage
Judy and I are in the Mall on a Saturday afternoon. There is a promotion at the Concourse and Judy got very excited about the new spa promotion.
Signature Chopstick Massage. Say what?
The masseur explains that it was something she learnt from her grandmother.
“And why didn’t our dead grandmother teach us this, if it’s so good,” I said sarcastically to deter Judy.
“Haiz, Dee Dee, our grandmother was busy teaching Peranakan cooking classes lah.” Judy says flatly. Her eye glazes over as she pores over the pamphlets.
Our downfall, all these pamphlets promising stuff we want to believe in.
“It may sound simple but we use a certain type of special chopsticks only. Five pairs and not a chopstick more than that. Or the wrong design. That is dangerous and you could end up with blot clots all over.” the masseur explains.
“So chopstick rain down ah? Isn’t that painful?” I interject.
Before I could protest further or make any more sarcastic comments, we have signed up, paid for our vouchers and dress down in our paper thongs and bandanna bikini top.
“Chopstick massages are specialised treatments that only a trained beautician can perform,” comes the cute reply when I ask about her credentials.
She, the beautician oils the bundle of ten wooden chopsticks and begins with the three primary movements: tapping, kneading and pressing on pressure points.
Apparently tapping takes the tension out of stressed muscles. Kneading takes away muscular tension and negative heat. Finally applying pressure on acupressure point unblocks the ‘chi’ (energy) to relieve stress.
The beautician is obviously trained by a competent grandmother. She wields the chopsticks expertly with a loose bundle of ten chopsticks. The chopstick makes a ruckus with their rolling motion and she beats down on the soles of my feet, rather than tap on them. It is rather a nice novelty to be beaten this way. Judy will like this play on S&M.
She rolls the chopsticks all up and down the back of my legs, calves and hamstrings which is soothing. I didn’t realise how tired my legs are.
The beautician remarks happily that my skin is getting redder due to the release of “wind” from the neck and shoulder area. She says the knots out can be scrapped out with two chopsticks, pressing down hard and pushing from my nape to the shoulder blades. After that she starts to poke the chopsticks into the acupressure points.
It is painful but still bearable until she uses the chopsticks on the tender underside of my arms near the triceps areas.
Huh huh huh….
The next day, there were a few angry bruises which begin as a pinkish red colour. It changes to dark blue or purple, fades to violet, green and turns a pale yellow before it completely disappears.
What fun is that?
Doris Lim is a popular freelance writer who blogs as Little Fish on travel and food stories here. Be sure to check out her other inspiring
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