The next morning I got a massage! I figured after a week of P90X I totally deserved it, plus it was only 1000 pisos, which is equivalent to almost $20. The massage was for 1 hour, and I had two massage therapists; one worked on the top half, and the other on the bottom. It was called the "Ultimate" four handed massage. Brilliant.
I like to get massages in different countries because I think it's funny how different they go about doing things. In the U.S. they leave you in a room to strip down, then you tuck yourself in under the sheets. They are so afraid of being unprofessional they ask you if you want your butt massaged. (Um... of course)
In Mexico, they take you to a private room to undress and put on your robe, then you are lead back in to the room where you lie with a towel covering your "parts."
In Italy, they don't mess around. You lie there fully naked, no towel... no sheets... they are Italian... naked means nothing.
So, I was interested to see how things went down in the Philippines. A woman led me back to the massage room. It was a room with only three walls. The fourth wall was open, and you could look out over the pool. There were trees blocking you, so there was a little privacy.
Woman: You can take off dress and top. (I was wearing a swim suit and cover up)
Me: Alright. (Waiting... looking at her... waiting for her to leave.... she is not leaving.)
Me: Oh, right now.
Well that's unexpected. Not that I cared really, but I didn't expect this from a country in which most of the woman swim in the ocean in shorts and a t-shirt. I laid face down on the table, (covered with a towel, in case you were wandering,) and then the man massage therapist came in.
The massage began and I laid there trying to relax, but I could hear screaming kids in the pool below me. Then the therapists starting talking to each other.... You've got to be kidding me. I am supposed to be trying to relax, and they are just going to run their mouths the whole time. Plus, they are talking in Tagalog, so I can't understand a word they are saying. And I'm sure they are talking about me, it was worse than being at a nail salon. They stopped talking after about 10 minutes, but there was no way for me to relax. I just kept doing massage commentary in my head the whole time.
Me: (Ok... what the hell is she doing? Is that her elbow? Ok, what is that? Sir... my legs don't bend that way... and since when has leg bending ever been a part of a massage? He better not touch my toe, it hurts so bad from when I fell on the boat and busted it open. Don't touch my toe, Don't touch my toe.... Hey, Hey woman that hurts. Whatever you are pressing in my shoulder is supposed to be there.... If you don't move your fingers now I'm going to have a permanent impression of your thumb on my shoulder... OWWW! That was the toe. *@#&%*!)
Me: (What the hell is that? Is that a bee? If they let that bee sting me there will be no tip!)
Woman/Man: (Smack Smack Karate Chop... Smack Smack)
Me: (Really? When did smacking someone all over become part of a massage? Do they think that feels good??)
This went on the entire hour. Needless to say I didn't feel entirely relaxed when I left there....