Hello, Massage?

Hello, Massage

Stuart and I have been talking about getting massages for … well, since we got here.  We decided not to get them in Kuta because we felt that knowledgeable 'healing' hands would more likely be found in Ubud.  Every day we have talked about the idea and every day we have put it off.  An hour away from Joey after being with him pretty much 24/7 sounded  bit tricky and I doubted I'd be able to fully 'relax' what with all the monkeys potentially dragging him and daddy away. Just kidding. Mostly.

Yesterday, I decided it was finally time to bite the bullet.  It was the perfect opportunity: our first rainy afternoon. 

I trudged through the pothole-y sidewalks down to '3Pointe Spa'.  I had grabbed a handful of brochures a few nights before from girls sitting on the sidewalk so that I could do my tripadvisor research before deciding on a place to go. 

I'm sure that there are beautiful, world class spas elsewhere, but I was curious to see what this 60, 000 IDR (less than $6) 1 hour 'Balinese Massage' was all about.

3Pointe had got a 4.5 on tripadvisor, which sounded good to me.

"Hello, Massage?" A girl yelled to me as I almost passed right by. 

"Oh! Actually yes, Balinese massage please." I said to her as she raised her arm up, pointing her hand down a gravel path.

I walked in the warm rain to a small room with three beds and curtains separating them. 

"Please take off all clothes except underwear." She said, quickly closing the curtain.

Never before have I felt so vulnerable. Actually, that's a lie…. having my pap test while nursing Joey probably takes the cake, but I digress…

As I stripped down to my skivvys, thankful that I chose not to wear… a certain type of underwear…. this afternoon, I spotted a rolled up sarong on my massage table. 
Was I supposed to drape it over myself? Was it for me? Was it left here? So many questions.

I decided to leave it where it was as I put my clothes under the table and prayed that my body wouldn't think it was time to feed Joey while I was there and squirt my massure with cream. 

Maybe this was a mistake.

I layed down on my stomach and rested my face in the face hole which had three face towels wrapped around it that I believe at one time may have been white. As long as my mouth didn't touch them I felt I would be ok to just grin and bear it.

The same girl said "Ready?" a couple of minutes later and I replied yes.
I think I heard her laugh when she entered the room… but, I could have been imagining it. 
I soon felt the sarong draped over me.
And then someone on the massage table with me.  Before I spazzed out, I breathed and thought 'this is probably just part of the massage'… and it was.  She dug into some pressure points with her palms and it felt so good.

The next hour was full of reflexology and rubbing with essential oils. It. was. awesome. And also a little weird because about a quarter of the way through, I heard a mans voice and realized that I was no longer the only person in the room getting a massage.  It felt extra weird knowing there was a man, practically naked, not 5 feet away from me, lying down… and divided only by a thin curtain.

Also, she massaged too much of my butt for my liking.

Other than the awkward feeling of those things, WAIT actually there was one more awkward thing.

She flipped me onto my back and took the sarong off of me to my waist.  I don’t know if that's normal when you're getting a massage… but I felt VERY exposed.  But the massage on my shoulders, sides, and arms from this position was AMAZING.

She had a blindfold cloth over my eyes for this part.  It was just a folded up wash cloth. Again, I'm assuming that at one point in its life it had been white.

Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder. 

"Excuse me?" She said, as I removed my blind fold. "Massage over."

She gave me some privacy as I hurriedly put on my clothes in case the man behind the next curtain could somehow see me.

She was very sweet as she led me back out into the pouring rain.

 "It was okay?" she asked in a quiet voice. 

I told her it was wonderful. A very pregnant lady then appeared and took my money.

I walked back down the pot hole-y gravel path back home and thought,

'that was definitely worth at least six dollars.'