I got just a little too much sun on my first day on the island of Phuket. Since it was my first full day on Phuket, all I wanted to do was spend the day at the beach. Doing nothing. Reading. Sleeping. Veg-ing. My problem was that I forgot that in that heat and humidity, and with multiple trips into the ocean for a swim, you have to keep re-applying sunscreen. I didn’t get totally fried out there or anything, but I could definitely see a red tint to certain parts of my body.So the following day, I planned on staying out of the sun completely. I decided that one nice way to do that would be to schedule a peaceful afternoon at one of the many spas on Phuket. I didn’t want some over-the-top establishment, with an atmosphere of sophistication, reminiscent of spas I’ve seen in the U.S. Phuket, it being a resort area, has plenty of those. I wanted something more quaint, and the woman at my hotel’s registration desk suggested a spa which was only a five-minute walk from the hotel. Baan Tamachart, it was called, and she assured me it was small, but with excellent service. That sounded good enough for me, so I had her make the appointment, and she told me that the spa would be sending a car for me at 2:00 pm, the following afternoon.
The next day, a driver arrived at five minutes ‘til two. I’d found that I’d hardly ever been kept waiting since I arrived in Thailand. We left the hotel, and as it turned out, the drive, because of the many one-way streets in this area of Phuket, actually took about five minutes as well. But at least riding in the car kept me out of the sun…and in air-conditioning.
I walked through the spa’s entrance and was invited to take a seat in a serene reception area, which was furnished with teak benches that featured hand-carved details and plush cushions and pillows. Oil paintings of water lilies decorated the bamboo- latticed walls. A young girl brought me a cold glass of fruit juice, while the receptionist confirmed that I was here for a half-day, sun-recovery package, and then went over some details with another woman.
The woman disappeared through a doorway leading to the spa area and not long thereafter, she returned, and I was introduced to her. Her name was On, and she would be taking care of me while I was at the spa. She was a very slight woman, probably in her early forties, and she was very soft-spoken, like I had found most Thai women to be. She had a big smile on her face, and she invited me to step through the door and to sit on a chair in front of which, was a large bowl of steaming, hot water containing rose petals.
I sat down and On removed my flip-flops. Then she washed each of my feet in the hot water and scrubbed them with sea salt. She patted them dry and then directed me to change into a beautiful, almost regal, loose-fitting sarong. I did so, and placed my clothes and belongings inside a large ventilated wooden locker. On then led me to a showering area and when I was done cleaning up, we proceeded to one of, I found out later, four treatment rooms. It seems that this spa only serves four customers at a time, which explained why there were so few lockers in the changing area. Wow, this was indeed a small-time operation, yet thus far, it was obvious that every detail had been thought of and that the level of service had remained at a very high level.
I entered the treatment suite, where peaceful, Asian music was playing through the speakers in the high ceiling. A padded table, wrapped in some sort of cellophane, sat in the middle of the main room. A small stairway led from the main table area down to a preparation area that also contained a shower and a large wooden bathtub. I thought the plastic-wrapped table was a touch meant simply to convey cleanliness. Actually, I soon found out that I would be cocooned inside of the plastic, like some sort of party leftover, as part of the body wrap I had purchased with my spa package.
On had me change into a baggy, nylon, Speedo-looking thing, and motioned for me to sit up on the table. Once there, she applied a cool mixture of aloe vera and cucumber pulp to my back and shoulders, and then had me lay back so she could cover me from neck to foot in it. After applying a few pints or so of the green sludge, she folded the cellophane around me, basically mummifying me inside it. She draped heavy blankets over me and covered my head and face with warm towels, leaving only a small hole for me to breathe through.
I lay there, motionless and embalmed, for around thirty minutes, dripping sweat the length of my body. I could feel pools of perspiration gathering beneath me, as rivulets formed on the sides of my face, down my shoulders, and along my sides. When I moved, I could hear and feel it slushing underneath me. Through the towels that enclosed my head, I could also hear the muffled sounds of On in the preparation area of the room and the muted sounds of water running and birds chirping outside.
When On returned to the table, she removed the blankets and plastic, and pointed toward the shower down the stairs. As I entered the shower area, I could see that the bathtub had been filled. After showering, On helped me into the bathtub, which had been filled with coconut milk, hot water, bubbles, suds, and more rose petals. I reclined contentedly in the wooden bathtub and took in my surroundings.
The suite I was in looked as if it had been designed to look centuries old. There was nothing in it that looked modern except for the shower and the fact that there were speakers imbedded in the ceiling. In fact, the entire spa seemed to have an ancient feel to it, as if the purpose of its design was to assist customers in leaving their modern stresses behind and escaping to a simpler, more relaxing time. I found it very easy to completely lose myself there. The feel of the spa was appropriate, because the techniques and treatments used in Thai spas are literally thousands of years old. The traditions and recipes have been passed down through generations. It was not difficult to imagine someone, hundreds of years ago, maybe even a prince, being pampered in exactly the same way that I was being spoiled, now.
A small amount of sunlight filtered in through the tiny windows and candlelight dimly brightened the shadowy corners of the room. On brought me a small pot of the most delicious herbal tea I’ve ever tasted. I just closed my eyes, drank my tea, and surrendered myself to relaxation, becoming convinced that no modern pill or piece of machinery can replace the power of a soothing setting, natural remedies, and the human touch, in attaining physical and spiritual healing.
After another shower, On began an hour-long aromatherapy sun-oil massage of my entire body. This was not the deep-tissue massage that I enjoy so much, but rather, a more gentle, relaxing massage, meant for relieving aches and pains and ridding the body of stress and fatigue. With each movement of On’s strong but gentle fingers and hands, and each whisper of her kind voice as she sang softly in a language I could not understand, and didn’t need to, I melted slowly into the soft padding on the table. Massage is something that is ALWAYS over before you want it to be, and I was somewhat distressed when I realized that an hour had already passed.
On prepared a comfortable resting place for my head using some towels, and began going through a process of alternating hot towels and cool creams to my face. Between cycles, she tenderly wiped away the various lotions and concoctions she had prepared and applied, and gently rubbed my temples and scalp. Finally, she covered my face in a cool, sticky substance, and then placed long slices of cucumber over my eyes and entire face. She then covered my cucumber mask with cold, damp towels, again leaving me a small hole to breathe through. She returned after fifteen minutes and, with my face still wrapped, she began massaging my feet. She brushed a cool, thick liquid onto my feet and toes, and then she vigorously kneaded and stroked my feet, as the menthol- or mint-infused cream caused my feet to tingle coolly. Then, On removed the facial wrap and began a more detail-oriented, twenty minute neck, scalp, and face massage.
She finished me off with a short, more traditional style, Thai massage of my back and shoulders, during which she climbed onto the table, then all over me, bending me this way and that, jabbing her knees into me, and contorting me to her will. On only seemed satisfied when she could finally hear audible pops and cracks coming from my spinal column. With a soft giggle and two words, “All finish”, I was brought reluctantly back to Earth.
On held up my sarong for me and expertly cinched it around my abdomen. Then, she walked me back to the locker where I’d stashed my clothes. After changing, On brought me to a small sitting area, where a small snack and hot tea were waiting for me. I thanked her and asked her to pose for a picture with me, which she did, producing for me that big smile once again.
I gave her a nice tip, and she gave me a “wai”, the traditional Thai greeting and thank-you gesture, which consists of a slight bow, with the palms pressed together in a prayer-like position. (The higher the hands are held in relation to the face, and the lower the bow, the more respect or reverence the giver of the wai is showing.) As usual, I got the feeling that a Thai citizen was more thankful for the opportunity to serve me than I was for having been served by them.
I received many wais while I was in Thailand and each time, they had this same affect on me. When someone wais you, you somehow feel more important and respected than you deserve to be. The wai endears me to everyone who has given me one. To a Westerner, it just seems like such an overly respectful way of showing true thanks.
When I walked outside to the spa’s car, which was waiting for me, the sun had begun setting. My soul felt cleansed. My body felt redeemed. And my spirit was lifted. I’ve heard that feeling better makes one look better. Thanks, On. You are one gifted and talented lady.
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