Chiang Mai Thai Massage

I'd read about a place called the Chiang Mai Women's Prison Massage Center. It is exactly what it sounds like: you can get a massage from a prisoner. My guidebook assured me that these massages are "performed by inmates as part of their rehabilitation training" and that "the money earned from these treatments goes directly to the prisoners for use after their release."

So it's not as bad as it sounds. Actually, it's for a good cause. I was all for it.

Sergio and I went together and were turned away because the place was full for the day. No worries though, they have another building just around the corner where you can get a massage from an ex-prisoner. Sign me up! We walked around the corner and down the street to the Women's Massage Foundation and I handed over 180 baht ($6) for an hour-long traditional Thai massage. Literally one-tenth of the cost of a massage in the states. Insane.

The masseuse washed my increasingly disgusting backpacker feet in a little basin outside, then led me in to change. The place was busy, with tons of ex-prisoner women running around and chattering in Thai. I put my brown, loose-fitting top and bottoms on and away we went into the massage room. It was dark and cool inside, with multiple fans blowing to keep the temperature down. The room was large, with 10 or 12 low beds spread out. The entire room smelled of peppermint oil. 

"Ok mista, lie down now please!" 

Yes, ma'am.

I laid down on my back and she started working on my feet, rubbing and pulling each toe till it popped. Above the sound of my toes popping I noticed what sounded like traditional Thai music playing in the background. It could have been Chinese or Cambodian for all I know, but definitely Asian.

She worked up my legs. Calves, thighs, inner thigh...cool. This place has a good reputation. I trust my guidebook. No happy endings beyond feeling more limber and relaxed.

It was rougher than I'd anticipated. In a good way, though. I winced a few times and took deep breaths, releasing the tension from my body.

"Ok mista, turn ova please mista."

She massaged my back, rubbing and occasionally whacking. It made a satisfying smacking sound and didn't hurt at all. 

Laying on my stomach, hands at my side, she grabbed them and pulled me up into an arched position. I felt like a breaching whale. Or maybe a mermaid. She lowered me and repeated twice more. Great way to stretch out the back!

Finally, she asked me to sit up cross-legged on the bed and clasp my fingers around the back of my neck. She got behind me on the bed and asked me to lay back onto her. Alrighty then. I laid back, not sure where this was going. She pulled me back into a crab-walk position with my feet in the bed, my hands behind my neck, and the rest of my wight supported by her tiny frame. 

"Relax, mista, relax."

I had involuntarily tensed up and needed the reminder. I was at her mercy now. I imagined myself in a wrestling match with this little Thai ex-con, and she was winning. 

She twisted me like a pretzel. I really don't know how else to describe it.

Afterwards we were both sweating profusely and I persuaded her to a pose for a photo. You're welcome!