Ubud, Bali, Indonesia
04/05/2017
Upon arrival in Bali, I felt it necessary to investigate the traditional Balinese massage. Overseas travel, two full days being twisted up and all fluids being wrung out, demands the need for body work.
At the Taiwan airport I had attempted to get a head of the game and try to schedule something for when I arrive in Bali. First rule, do not try to schedule anything based upon unknown time frames, which basically means don't plan until you are there. I'm fortunate the massage place was unable to fit me in as I didn't account for travel traffic to Ubud or the little side stop the driver and I took to chow on some Bakso.
After settling in at the Homestay, I decided just to take a walk and see if any random place had an availability for the medieval unwinding. The first place I tried was able to see me. A very beautiful and small Balinese girl ushered me to the room and gave some minimal changing directions (basically put on these hair net underwear and yea). I was thinking to my western self about how people in the U.S. get years of training for massage practice to be licensed and skilled, and here I am with a girl that looks no older than 18 years if that. Fortunately I knew that the obsessed notion that somehow personal slavery and time and the possession of a certificate stating you know what you are doing doesn't necessarily mean you know anything at all. So I let the centuries of tradition flow through this young woman's hands and unravel my body.
As soon as she hopped on to the table and started applying WWF-like force on my back, the popping joint song started and my body was beginning to awaken as the airflow was suddenly less restricted. From that point on my memory becomes spotty, I remember being very impressed by the strength on her 54 kg (😏) frame, I remember enjoying traditional Balinese music in the background, and I remember felling asleep on multiple occasions, waking myself, and both of us sharing a soft giggle.
I thought about writing this entry after the massage, that thought lasted less time than it took me to type it. No way was I going to sacrifice any amount of the relaxation obtained for the purpose of a journal entry, plus I'm not sure I was even in a conscious state at that time.
Moral of the story, it's a new day and Balinese massage should be had every day.
After eating this lovely Balinese breakfast, I'll be taking a stroll, trying yoga for the first time in years, and perhaps another Balinese massage.
