Massage Techniques of Indochina Comparative Test: Laos

As an extension to the easygoing way of life on the slowboat, staying in Luang Prabang is not what you would call demanding nor stressful. A sleepy province town of 16,000 inhabitants breathes an air of tropical sleepiness mixed with some remnants of French colonial influence, which makes it a very uncomplicated place for Westerners. It is like a hotspot for hippies, but then without the hippies or their mellow take on life. Far out dude.


After seeing a few temples – I already suffer from temple overkill, and’ve seen more buddhas than toilet paper in this country, which is a worrying notion (don’t panic, I’ve got my own stash) – having a fresh fruitshake on a patio overlooking the Mekong, strolling the various marketplaces (coming up: a new series of ‘Tastes Good On The Bun’!), there is only one thing left to do: having a nice, one hour long massage in one of the many parlours in town.

Before I start describing my experimental findings for this comparative assessment, I may need to clarify a few things for the sake of good science: so-called massages with the proverbial ‘happy end’ are not included in this research. They have nothing to do with the ancient art of muscle kneading (that ain’t a muscle, you know), and although undeniably pleasant, it is a perverted crossbreed with the oldest profession in the world, which would discolor my scientific results in an unforgivable way.


Anyway, back to the massage. My two fellow researchers and I chose the 1 hour body massage and were appointed three matrasses on a dark teak platform (even the woodworks in the muckiest of places here is made from the finest homegrown teak) and given pyjama-like outfits. Three ladies greeted us shyly but friendly and got to work immediately. Despite being small with slender features, they managed to apply a surprising amount of pressure on every muscle in legs and feet. Our local guide had taught us that we could change the force of the manipulation by uttering the words ‘bao bao’ or ‘nak nak’. Unfortunately, I had forgotten which one meant ‘harder’ and which one ‘softer’ and I did not want to sacrifice the feeling in one of my legs by finding out.
While working on legs, back or arms, the three ladies engaged in softly spoken conversation in the wonderful, bubbling Lao language or local dialect (note to Belgian government idiots: this country has 46 minorities who all speak different languages. Please do not pretend that you’ve got a big puzzle to solve). We wondered what they were talking about and if they were talking about us, but since we were chatting away ourselves, they probably asked the same questions.
Time passed by like a coked out cheetah with its ass on fire. I got up on my feet feeling a bit wobbly, but everything was still in its place. I felt slightly tired in my limbs, but that was just the last acid leaving my muscles. One should know that a mattress is the Laotian idea of a good practical joke.
Legs were twisted, toes cracked, spine pummeled, arms battered... it was pretty tough, and even though it was not painful, I cannot say I thoroughly enjoyed every touch. It all went a bit too fast, it was like she needed to churn me within the hour and then sell me as butter on the evening market. Not quite like the way of life in Laos.
Altogether it was a fun experience and satisfying, but it did not make me step out on the streets reborn. An interesting benchmark for future experiences in Vietnam and Cambodia though (and I can disclose already that it gets even more interesting). So, tally-ho, on the bus for 3 days of travel, after which we reach the city of Hue in good ol' 'Nam.