India Journal, Part II
Saturday, January 13- Monday, January 15, 2018
 |
| Someone carrying eggs down to the cafes on the beach |
Saturday, January 13- Monday, January 15, 2018
Saturday, January 13, 2018
It’s really hot here. It’s in the 90s every day with the sun out in
full force with high humidity. Air
conditioning is a rare thing, but there is an ocean breeze to keep things
comfortable. After spending the first
half of the day at the beach, I went to the Ayurveda clinic at 2pm to start my
treatment. The clinic is on the roof of
a building in the village by the beach that looks like it may have been a
hotel. They may still rent guest
rooms. It’s hard to tell. This is not a luxury spa or anything, but
then again, that’s not what India or my trip is about. As I’m walking up the stairs, I pass a sign
that has an arrow pointing to the rooftop.
It reads:
Yoga
Ayurveda
Restaurant
The “Restaurant” label has a thick black line
through it.
At the end of the health interview he asks
about my mental well being and I tell him I would like to find some relaxation
and balance there as well. I explained
that I used to be an investment banker and the stress was intense and nonstop
for many, many years and I can only now, a few years since walking away from
it, see the damage it had done to my mind and balance. He asks if I have dreams and I tell him that
I didn’t for many years, but now, since I stopped working in finance, they have
returned and I can remember them often.
“Anything else I should know?” Agil asks.
“Well, I’m not sure if I should even tell you,
but I was recently told that I may be on the spectrum- which I think has
something to do with autism or something.”
“What type of doctor told you this?” Agil is very focused now.
“It was a doctor per say. It was a friend, who is also a
self-proclaimed “genius”.
“A self proclaimed genius?” Agil cannot hide his confusion.
“Yeah, he’s a bit of a polymath and knows a lot
of things, but I’m not sure about his medical acumen. He owns the bar I hang out in. I just wanted to mention it- just in case.”
“Oh, I see.
I do not think you should worry about this spectrum. We will balance the body and mind through
Ayurveda therapy. I suggest we do a
Rejuvenation and Detoxification Therapy.”
“Sounds good to me Doctor.”
“Ok, today we will prepare your body for the
rejuvenation therapy. Please come. We will start with foot massage.”
I liked the idea of easing into the treatment
with a foot massage. It made sense to
me. When I was in Thailand and Cambodia
I would get a foot massage every day, sometimes more than one. I found them to be very relaxing and stress
relieving.
 |
| Agil and me going over the treatment |
I was led to a little room where Agil told me
to undress and put on a little disposable paper thing to cover my private parts
and take a seat on a small stool.
Getting naked for a foot massage seemed a bit strange, but I did what I
was told and took a seat on the stool next to the mat on the floor. The stool also seemed weird, as usually you
want to lean back and relax during these massages. After a minute, Agil returned and started
massaging my shoulders. He then poured a
ton of herbal oil into my hair and all over my back. I was confused. He soon told me to lie down on the mat and
proceeded to massage me with his feet.
It was a full body “foot” massage.
There was a rope suspended across the little room that he hung onto
while massaging with his feet. This way
he could put his weight into it. I
didn’t like it very much, as I’m not a fan of male feet, but I resolved to see
it through to find out the effectiveness before jumping to conclusions.
Afterwards, I laid on my back for a few minutes
before I was moved into another room where I was told to lay on a table on my
stomach. Agil and a woman therapist
then used hot packs filled tight with lemon and herbs and pounded me hard and
rubbed my entire body enthusiastically.
This was not easing into anything.
It was intense and, with a slight sunburn from the beach on my chest and
stomach, it was somewhat painful when they hit and rubbed the affected
area. I couldn’t help but draw
parallels to the Austria clinic. This
pounding with heat I surmised was for my circulation and to relax the
muscles.
Once they were done, I was again left for a few
minutes. I had a thick layer of oil all
over my body and hair and I wondered how I would ever be able to wash it all
off. Then, two women entered and told
me to turn over onto my stomach. They
said they would be giving me a powder massage.
They poured a brownish-rust colored herbal powder that smelled of
turmeric on my body and started rubbing- back and forth and back and forth-
with four hands from both sides of my body.
Once the oil was absorbed, the powder felt like mild sandpaper on my
skin. When they got to my sunburn area
it hurt like hell. From that point on I
was just waiting/praying for the ordeal to end. When it finally did, I was surprised to find
that I wasn’t bleeding. I must have
lost a couple layers of skin between these massages, but the oil problem was
rectified (for my body, not my hair).
They wrapped a traditional purple Indian garb around my waist that went
to just above my knees and said I was done for the day.
Upon leaving I saw Agil and asked him about the
therapy and its history. It was
something so far out of my wheelhouse that I was confused and wanted some
answers. “This therapy goes back to 1000
B.C. It is traditional Ayurveda therapy
and it will synchronize your mind and your body.” That was all he said.
“1000 B.C. huh, that’s interesting. Thank you.”
While I wasn’t so sure about the therapy, it
was an answer I had to respect. Time is
the ultimate judge and if this therapy had been around since classical Greek
and Roman times, it must be doing something right. I thanked Agil and walked out, somewhat in a
daze toward home- almost naked, covered in herbal powder, topless with slicked
back greased out hair, and wearing a big purple Indian diaper. Welcome to India!
 |
| Post Ayurveda Treatment |
Sunday, January 14, 2018
Another sunny and hot day without a cloud in
the sky. Woke up and went to the
beach. I’m well into Dreams of Bunker Hill by Fante now. It’s a really good read, though too
short. I’m trying to restrict my reading
time to savor the novel for as long as possible. After reading a chunk of pages, I force
myself to put it down and will either just chill and think over the writing and
story, or read a magazine or something.
Of course, all my reading has intermittent swimming breaks to cool off
or go crab hunting or body boarding with my son.
At 2pm I went back for my second
treatment. My body felt good after the
first day’s treatment, so I was less skeptical. When I entered the clinic, they had music
playing. This wasn’t the case
yesterday. The music was a Hindu chant that repeated itself over and over the entire time I was there (2.5
hours). It’s a man chanting,
“OM–NA-MA-SHE-VAY-YA” again and again.
He draws out each syllable and it is very relaxing and gave me something
to cling to as I went through the same treatment routine as the day
before.
I was surprised that I didn’t have Agil as my
therapist today. I had a stocky guy with
a big beard named Murali (MOO-RA-LI). He
led my to a room and started with the foot massage. I thought I was better prepared for this
mentally than the day before, but this guy was much more intense. He really leaned into me and the massage was
much more painful. I usually like strong
deep tissue massages, but this was taking it to a new level. I took it without saying anything, except for
a few moans of pain, though at times the experience was jarring.
Then, I was led into the other room and another
guy and the same woman did the hot pack beating massage. Again, the new guy was much harder than
Agil. It wasn’t pleasant and far from
relaxing. When we got to the powder
massage, all I was doing was focusing on the Buddhist chant and waiting for the
experience to end. The new guy doing the
powder massage was really rough on the body.
As I laid there absorbing copious amounts of pain I remembered a short
story by Tennessee Williams about a sadist who goes to a big black masseuse in
New Orleans who activates and fulfills his need for pain and self
destruction.* The problem with my
experience is that I am not a sadist. I
basically meditated to the “Om-Na-She-Va-Ya” chant throughout the whole
experience and felt deep relief and gratitude once it was over.
As I was leaving, again in my purple diaper
thing, I saw Agil and asked if he could get me a copy of the Buddhist chant
disc. I had bonded with this music
throughout the therapy. He said he would
send me by email the download. I can see
myself playing this chant in my house in Chicago when I am writing my novel or
working on a blog. I quite like it and
it definitely has a calming and steadying effect.
We went for dinner to a restaurant that has
quickly become our stand-by called Crab Club.
It’s right on the beach and the people there are friendly and always
welcoming. Irina has been coming here
for years, so they know her well and give us VIP treatment. As with most things- the price is very
reasonable and the food is fresh and tasty.
There was a festival on the beach with Indian music being sung on stage
by a variety of performers. After
dinner, we walked down to the stage for a while to watch, but since they do not
sell beer or any alcohol on the beach, I got bored standing around after an
hour or so. We walked back to our house
around 10:30pm.
 |
| Fresh seafood on offer at Crab Club |
I also found out the Seeshoo, our primary
rickshaw driver, has invited us to his daughter’s wedding on Thursday. I’m excited to see what a true Indian Hindu
wedding is like and am really looking forward to it!
*The Tennessee Williams short story is “Desire
and the Black Masseur”, published in 1948.
Great story, I strongly recommend it.
Monday, January 15, 2014
I’ve fallen into my first routine here. I get up around 7am and make a cup of coffee
and check my emails and the news of the day.
The time difference from Chicago is 12.5 hours, which is a big positive
and also a potential negative, as I am awake when all my U.S. contacts are
sleeping and sleeping when all my U.S. contacts are awake. The only overlap is
in the mornings and evenings for only a few hours on each side, which allows me
to almost completely turn off from my regular life every day, but if something
happens stateside that I need to deal with, it only gives me a small window to
take care of it. Each morning when I
drink my coffee I deal with emails or issues that have arisen over the previous
day. 8am in India is 8:30pm the previous
day in Chicago. I hear it is really
cold over there again- poor bastards.
After going through everything on the computer,
I head to the beach for half a day. At
the beach I play with my son, hang out, read, swim, etc. I then head home around 1pm to clean up and
have a light lunch/snack and then go to the clinic for my treatment. From there, I return home, shower and then we
all go for dinner somewhere down on the beach.
After dinner I check my emails and make any calls I need to, maybe read
a little and then crash.
I had Murali again today for my foot massage
and it was the same routine again. It’s
still painful and I’m not sure what to make of it. Agil said that my current schedule of treatments
would only be for the start and it will change soon. I hope it changes tomorrow, as so far, I’m
not feeling it more than just the pain and soreness of my body.
Some brief early observations about the society
here in Kovalam, Kerala. Please take
these with a grain of salt, as I am clearly a new arrival. Just about every man has facial hair- but
only mustaches or beards. You don’t see
any other variations on this. No matter
how hot it is, the local men always wear pants and usually a button down shirt. Women are always dressed in outfits that
cover up their bodies completely, but not their faces, arms/hands or feet. It seems to be a very conservative society
and, unlike Western cultures, sex or sexual overtones are nowhere to be
found. The advertisements you see around
are usually just the product being sold without a model. When I mentioned this to Irina, who has been
visiting India for 12+ years, she told me that sex is not a foundational part
of their society as it is in America and Europe. By the looks of it, I think she is
right. Men tend to congregate with men
and women with women. The other day when
we went to the cashier at the clothing store, there were two lines. One line was all men, the other was all
women. This wasn’t dictated by the store
or anything, it was just the way the lines formed. I have been told that approximately 70-80% of
all marriages are arranged by the families, but the Hindus are beginning to
allow “love marriages” where their children find and pick their spouses based
on mutual feelings.
When on the roads, men make up around 90% of
the drivers.
The locals’ demeanor is very civil, calm and
friendly. The Indians seem to be quiet
and collected people. I like them and
feel very comfortable in their society.
As mentioned previously, it all seems ordered
and safe here. I haven’t seen any public
displays of drunkenness and even cigarette smoking is rare. On the beach the government has forbidden any
alcohol to be sold or drunk (outside of the restaurants and cafes) and you
cannot smoke at any time on the beach area.
All restaurants and cafes have to be closed by 11pm and no one is
allowed on the beach after that time.
Theft is very rare, as the punishment if you get caught is severe and I
was told that they will cut off your hand or hands in some cases. All drugs are illegal and there is no difference
under the law for soft or hard drugs.
You will get a stiff sentence and jail time for possessing weed or
heroin; it’s all the same under the eyes of the law.
It’s a very religious country, but the
religions here preach tolerance and acceptance.
Hindu is the dominant religion (70%), but you see Christians (3.5%),
Muslims (20%) all around. We drove past
a Christian church, a mosque and a Hindu temple all within 30 yards of each
other. When I spoke to an Indian
Christian about this and said it is very religiously diverse here, he replied,
“yes, but it doesn’t matter.” I liked
that answer. It shouldn’t matter and it
shouldn’t be used to divide people as it so often is.
Whatever they are doing, it seems to be
working, as people are living their lives in apparent peace. There is an unmistakable feeling of serenity
here. People do not seem to be beaten
down by missed opportunities or lost dreams and I get a feeling that there is
broad acceptance to life and the hierarchy of things. Like Seeshoo, our rickshaw driver, for
example, he has been driving a rickshaw all his life and he doesn’t have any
inclination to do or be anything else.
This attitude can be felt in most Indians we have come across and spoken
to.
I don’t want to say that they lack ambition
because I don’t know anyone well enough to say so, but I can say that there is
a clear lack of capitalism here. For
example, we are on one of the bigger tourist beaches in the region and there
isn’t one surf shop anywhere to be found that sells or rents bodyboards,
surfboards, or skim boards, which are in high demand (we brought our own
bodyboards and many tourists keep asking us where we got them). Also, there are only a handful of kiosks on
the beach that sell cold water, drinks and snacks and sometimes one or two of
them are closed, so you have to walk quite a distance to get a drink. These service-orientated deficiencies
wouldn’t exist in a similar Western beach resort, as someone would try to exploit
them to make a quick dollar.
I’m not sure if this is a southern India thing
or throughout the country. I will find
out soon enough though, as Delhi is my next stop in about a week.
 |
| Typical Indian dress for the beach |
Also, another thing, which I find very strange, is that the Indians, on average, are terrible swimmers and largely seem to be afraid of the ocean. Whenever they get into the water the security/life guard blows a whistle and calls them in to the shore. When they are swimming, it is usually only men. I mentioned this to one of our rickshaw drivers and he said, “Yes, Indian people do not swim well.” The men usually swim in pants with their shirts on and the women, when they do go in to get wet, are also fully clothed as well. Strange…
###
The story continues with Part III here:
https://libertinereflections.blogspot.com/2018/02/india-travel-journal-part-iii-tuesday.html
No comments:
Post a Comment