By Sawsan Kazak, Kuwait Times
Jul. 12–One experience that truly brings me joy is when I get a massage. A sense of relaxation sweeps over me during a massage that is overwhelming. Every muscle in my body loosens and turns to butter and my nerves seem to fall asleep temporarily. I feel serene and at peace, hoping the massage would last forever. The enduring feeling of light euphoria that follows a few hours after the rubdown is quite refreshing; giving you the illusion that you can deal with anything that comes your way.
Sadly, since moving to Kuwait I have not been able to get to that level of relaxation. I have yet to find a masseuse that gives good relaxing massages. Most massage salons are too expensive and the massages are not professional, others are reasonably priced yet the massage leaves me in pain and not at all relaxed. For these reasons, I vowed off massages in Kuwait and get them whenever I’m on vacation or business trips. My friend convinced me to give it one more try last week at a salon in Hawally. I love m assages so much that I was lured in and agreed to give a try; a final time.
Unfortunately, this massage was not only bad, but the worst I have received, ever. It was the most uncomfortable and downright annoying massages that I have experienced. Let me count the so-many-ways this massage went horribly wrong. Hello, is anybody there?
Upon walking into the salon, the staff looked at us in sheer amazement. They did not seem accustomed to receiving customers, and they clearly weren’t expecting us. They led us to the ‘secretary’ and we informed her that we had indeed made an appointment. She just stood there and gave us this blank stare. It didn’t take us long to realize that this salon didn’t even maintain an appointment register. With the blank stare still plastered on the secretary’s face, we explained the kind of services we required. After a few repetitions, in Arabic as well as English, she gradually seemed to comprehend. What we weren’t informed, however, was that they had only one massage room, meaning we both had to wait our turns to get our massages.
I decided to go first, so the nice lady led me to the changing room. I changed, placed myself on the massage table and waited…and then I waited some more. After what seemed a good fifteen minutes had passed, my masseuse entered the room. She switched on the lights and began preparing for the massage. After a full five minutes of hovering around behind me, she finally announced: “Okay, we will start the massage now,” and proceeded to leave the room. Baffled, I lay there waiting for something to happen.
Shhhhhhhh, I’m trying to relax!
The massage began and I tried to forget everything that had previously taken place. I closed my eyes, pictured myself lying on a white sandy beach and began to relax. That’s when I heard a booming voice: “So, how long have you been in Kuwait?” I answered that question and about 20 others concerning my life, nationality, hopes, dreams, aspirations and plans for the future. I answered each question with just one word and with a tone that clearly indicated irritation. The questions didn’t stop until I was fli pped over and my face was almost smothered in a towel. At that point I told her that I couldn’t hear her and could no longer answer her questions.
This may sound completely self-centered, but when I get a massage I usually like it to be relatively quiet. I don’t think that it is the appropriate time to be interviewed by the masseuse. I felt as though I was applying for a job or enrolled in a speed dating service. It’s like talking to someone who is trying to sleep; it’s just plain inconsiderate. I don’t want to use my brain at this time, and you can’t make me.
That belongs in the kitchen
Most massages I have received so far are done with massage oils that are either unscented or infused with pleasant soothing scents like lavender, lemon or ginger. However, the oil of choice at this particular salon was apparently olive oil. Yes, that’s right! The same oil that you usually cook with, was used on my body for massage purposes. Sadly, it didn’t even smell pleasant. It appeared to be of a cheap knockdown quality that smelled somewhere between vegetable oil and cut grass. I felt as though I was getting a rubdown with last week’s leftover salad dressing. I was so disgusted, that I next expected her to shred some feta cheese in my hair, sprinkle some salt on my hands and legs and pass it off as a massage.
It doesn’t hurt there
While we are on the topic of inappropriate behavior, I should mention that some of the areas that were massaged were not at all suitable for a rubdown. For example, the masseuse concentrated on some body parts that don’t really require that much attention. My belly button, wrists, armpits, ankles and belly are but a few of the uselessly massaged areas.
I can assure you that I have never uttered the words: “Wow, my belly button really hurts, I’m really stressed down there, I need to go and get all that massaged.” All that only annoyed me further and prevented me from relaxing. I kept calculating how much time these useless maneuvers were taking from my precious one hour session. I contemplated jumping off the table and screaming: “Really? Do you feel stress in your armpits?” But I held on to the hope that it would eventually get better, so I kept my mouth shut and concentrated on relaxing instead.
That was fast
I certainly did not want the massage to go on any longer than the scheduled hour although I definitely wanted to get my money’s worth. And that is when I was completely shocked when I heard her say the massage was over after only about 40 minutes. I know this for sure, because I have received so many massages in my life that I have the capability of mentally determining how long the massage lasted (it’s one of my hidden talents). I guess she ran out of small talk and figured it was high time she ran out on the massage time too; before she got bored.
It now hurts even more
I was seething; having paid for something I could have done myself with my own kitchen ingredients, and this stressed me out. This particular massage turned out to be exactly opposite of what it was supposed to do; Relax and soothe me! I was very annoyed that I had such a bad experience, I was so mad that it lasted just about half the scheduled time and I was extremely upset that I now had olive oil running down my hair and had to go to work.
Word to the wise: Be wary of places that hand out coupons or those that get their massage equipment from their lunch boxes. Most importantly, if the staff is surprised to see you at their doorstep; don’t just be worried, panic!
Email: [email protected]
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