Kneaded Like Dough, Twisted Like Pretzel

Sorry in the delay of posting...jet lag decided to set in TWO days after I get back. I've had insomnia the last few nights and ended up sleeping during the late morning hours instead.

I need to rewind to the first night out in Bangkok.

Once Sean got home from work, we all headed out for an evening on the town. What trip to Thailand would be complete without a traditional Thai massage? Our first stop was at a cute little massage parlor near Sean's apartment. As he described it, you get more bang for your buck. At 300 baht, the hour long massage itself cost less than ten US dollars. Greeted by a cozy front room and a very sweet and pleasant receptionist, you enter the out of this world experience by walking down a hallway lined with small rocks along the walls, fresh orchids, and the sound of tricking water. (quick side note: I'd be wrong to not tell you Sean placed fresh orchids outside his apartment door, on the bed, and in the bathroom...such a beautiful welcome to Thailand).

Thai massage differs from a Swedish massage (not that I had either before this experience), in that Thai massage focuses on pressure and force, rather than beating and rubbing. After slipping on the world's most comfortable linen-like pants and shirt. This type of massage includes clothes. Before the actual massage, the masseuse washes your feet thoroughly. As Sean explained, it's to protect their integrity. In Thai culture, the feet are the dirtiest part of the body, particularly the soles, since it's the lowest point, closest to the dirty ground. The top of the head is the most sacred. You don't touch their heads, it's an insult. Honestly, the foot washing is probably a big highlight of the massage.

Having never experienced any professional massage before, I had no idea what to expect. The tiny Thai woman kneaded me like dough and twisted me into a pretzel. At certain times, they're using all their weight...sitting, standing, pushing against your limp body. Starting with the feet, they work their way up. A simply incredible relaxing time. Sean and I were side by side, chatting away at first...then drifting off into silence and a moment of sleep...just enjoying the way our bodies were gently beaten, as the aches and pains floated away. After it was over, sipping on my green tea, I looked over at Sean and said...my visit to Bangkok has officially started now.

Once we returned to earth, the four of us headed out for dinner at a tapas restaurant. I believe it was called Thai-pas, owned by an acquaintance of Sean's. A charming man from Denmark, I think. While the meal wasn't outstanding on any level, it was good enough for some famished Farang's (remember...white people), and served as fuel for exploring the night bazaar's.


Street vendors selling anything and everything...from food to clothing to sourvenirs and even a DVD stand targeting gays. No...not porn...but all things gay. Queer as Folk, Top Model, Will and Grace, Too Wong Foo...etc etc...you name it...any gay cult tv show or film was there.

One tacky tshirt stand offered humor...especially with the one that said "Anal, because kids suck...and featured a crude ass drawing."

Also at the night market, I encountered my first tast of SongKran, the Thai New Year tradition of throwing water. You can see in the photo my shirt's a little wet...yup...that's from getting squirted inside the mall by friend James.


Having spent a lot of time on my feet that day, and the water fight intensifying into an all out frenzy, I wanted to go home. The paste people were out in full force too...and I was having none of that. Ironically, Sean and James walked down a side street were some gay bars were, leaving Sarah and I to stand in front of the alley with the ping pong shows. I was also informed the shows sometimes include razor blades...OUCH!

*FRIDAY*

After sleeping in and showering, it was time to hit the Grand Palace. I'm not sure if I mentioned the heat in Bangkok. April is the hottest month, so the 95 degree plus weather overwhelms any cool shower you might take. As soon as I turned the water off and stepped out...I started sweating almost immediately.

Before hitting the GP, we stopped at a quaint little shopping center, so Sarah could get some Dunkin' Donuts and James and Dean could purchase water guns for the SongKran Soaking. I mentioned paste earlier too...after you get wet, folks like to put a wet, powdery paste on you as well. You'll see what I mean later.

We got the guns at Tesco Lotus (I think Tesco is a European thing...maybe in Great Britain...I'm not sure)...but it's their version of Walmart. Seriously. Almost too much alike actually. From the aisles, to the fake hardwood floors in the clothing section, to the checkout lines and the 'rollback prices signs'. I rolled back prices on a pair of those linen-like pajama pants since you have to have on pants to enter the Grand Palace.
















Technically this is the Grand Palace, all those other structures were just outbuildings and temple stuff (I know Sean is probably beating his head against the computer as he reads this inaccurate description of one of the most famous sites in Bangkok).

Despite the name, the King of Thailand does not live at the Grand Palace. If I'm not mistaken, he once did, but outgrew it. I know I know, happens to me all the time. I outgrow my palaces everytime I turn around.
















Also at the Grand Palace, you can find the Emerald Buddha. No that's not him pictured in the photo above right (or left bitches)....he's inside a temple (I hope I said that right)...where you're not allowed to take photos. You also have to take off your shoes and cannot point the soles of your feet toward Buddha. It's not a large statue...but because it's green...it's a bit on the scary side.








On the right is a photo of James and Sarah. Check out their cool pj-fisherman's pants they got at Testco Lotus. James was also nice enough to paint his toenails orange to match his shirt. Actually I think that was just coincidence. Silly Ladyboy!










Ok...long post...time to wrap it up...more later.

"W"