The massage artist

In Bangkok I was looking for someone to massage my back. But in the Grace Hotel, where I was staying, they only had ladies who gave massage. I said, “Thank you very much, but no thank you.”

I started calling other hotels. Finally, the Ambassador Hotel told me they had a man who gave massage, so I went there for a massage.

The man who gave massage had been to Australia to learn Russian massage, Chinese massage and general massage. In Indian currency, he charged 120 rupees.

When he first saw me, he said, “You are a Hindu! I can tell from your name. But I am a Muslim.”

I said, “Who cares whether you are a Muslim or a Hindu? There is only one God.”

He said, “I also feel that.”

At first he did Chinese massage, using his elbow. How painful! Then he tried Russian massage. I was lying down, and suddenly he jumped on my back and began jogging on it. I let him go from the base of my spine to my shoulder blades. But when he got to my shoulders, my chest was hurting so much that I asked him to stop. I said, “Russian massage is the worst!”

Then he gave me a general massage. After that I asked him, “Can you come to my hotel at eight o’clock tonight? I will give you more money.”

He agreed, and took down my room number.

— 31 March 1983