THE SOLITARY PANDA

Free Massage

The following story is my contribution to LiLu’s TMI Thursdays. This happened during my trip to India at the beginning of this month.

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A gentle knock was heard on our hotel door. My two roomies who had been with me on my India journey were fixing eachother’s hair. Michael, a dynamic gay boy from North Carolina with idealist heart and big ideas, placed the hair straightener down and opened the door. It was the hotel manager, wondering when my flight was so he could arrange a taxicab pick-up three hours in advance.

“How are you?” Michael said, enthusiastically. He has a way with Indian men. Their eyes light up every time he speaks, like he was a famous Bollywood celebrity. “Come in!”

We could tell this was a different country when Michael chats it up with the hotel manager and he’s invited in to our room. Colloquial conversations were exchanged and Michael mentioned how he just wanted to find a place that could do a good massage.

“I do massage,” the hotel manager said. “For you good people, I can do it for free.”

Michael went first and the Indian man placed his fingers on his thighs and legs, pressing and squeezing up and down. It seemed like he only spent all of two minutes when he finished and went on to massage Sharon, a beautiful Laotian girl from California. This time, it seemed he took a bit more time, massaging up and down her thighs, the small of her back and waist, and her buttocks. Concentrating idly on her buttocks, he asked in a soft, husky voice “is this OK?”

Ten minutes later, it was my turn. By this time, I realized he favored Sharon over Michael, and her buttocks over anything else and was a bit hesitant. Was this guy really a masseuse in training or just a bit horny? As I lay down on the bed for my turn, he hovered over me and started to massage my legs. His long nails pinched against my skin as he grabbed my thighs. His breathing became heavier, huskier.

“Is this OK?” I tried to nod yes. But in actuality, I’ve had better massages.

He circled my buttocks again and again. His breathing still laborious. Was it the physical activity and exertion or something else? The situation was rather amusing as he continued to massage my butt, still breathing hard, as he grabbed each check in circular motions.

Michael, bless his heart, noticed what was going on and motioned that we were about to leave. “We kinda have to go now…” The hotel manager, realizing this was his cue that he had exhausted his welcome, slapped my waist and then slapped my butt for good measure. I had my free massage and he had his free grope sesh with foreigners.

Smiling from ear to ear, he thanked us for our time. Sharon mentioned her thanks for a great massage. “Anything for you beautiful women,” he replied.

As he walked out the door, the three of us looked at each other and started laughing. “What just happened?” Michael asked.

“I don’t know but this is going on my blog!” I replied.
“I figured it was fine as long as he didn’t start fingering me,” Sharon joked.

Life-Long Friends

Do you ever meet people and just know that they’ll be life-long friends? The kind that you’ll actually keep in touch with? Being thrown into a new environment with a hand full of random people kind of does that to you. With new environments comes shared new experiences and lots of bonding for a short amount of time. By the end of India, I felt I had known my friends for months, and not just three weeks. Soon, the question of “why are YOU in India?” became a round table sharing exercise, as we began to get a sense for eachother’s stories.

We found ourselves in India, and with nothing to hold on to but our experiences and eachother, we became tight by the end of the trip. Each of us on our own journeys and our own time lines. Some staying longer than others.

Naturally, we, the Americans seemed to bond better while the Australians and Europeans seemed to form their own cliques. By the end of my stay, my new found friends planned a weekend going away/party trip to Delhi. We went to an upper-class bar for dinner and drinks followed by a night of dancing. The venue looked so westernized, with its random mix of Indians donning westernized clothing, or fancy saris. The place was a complete 180 to the face of poverty that I was familiar with on the Indian streets. Working with the slum school kids and just walking around India in general, there is no hiding the developing world’s poverty. It almost made me feel guilty for indulging when others could not. It felt wrong, backwards, a little self-serving. In any event, it was an eye-opening look at the “other side” of India. The side with money and style, that even I felt a little out of place and out of my league.

Despite the bonding, my one fear is that we don’t keep in touch, because keeping in touch is hard. Because the magic of India doesn’t last when you’re back in your old environments. Because the only thing that binded us together was India, and without the crazy world of shared new experiences, we’ll be strangers on the street once again. Still, I know that I have made some lasting bonds with a couple of other volunteers. By the time I’m done with my year in Asia, they all want to have a get together in Las Vegas where we can find good Las Vegas deals. And they’re willing to wait a year until I come back to do so. Truly, I feel blessed to have met such wonderful people.

What life-long friends have you made?