Winding through the men’s section, a distinct thwacking sound echoed down the narrow hallway. I’d had massages previously but never heard such noises, clearly made from hard and repeated skin on skin contact. As I neared the ladies’ area, the cacophony of smacks and thumps only grew, reaching its peak as I entered a large room divided into eight segments. As someone with exceptionally tight muscles and an aversion to most spa treatments, I nearly hightailed it out of there, afraid for my body and my mental wellbeing. But, never one to shy away from adventure, I pushed aside any discomfort and stepped behind the closest curtain.
In a space containing nothing more than a padded table and locker, I received my first instructions. She spoke little English, but I knew what she asked, thanks to the common language of gesturing. Once she stepped out, I started removing my clothing, placing each item in the cabinet provided until I’d removed every article. Just as I’d stored the final piece, and well before I’d situated myself beneath the sheet, she walked back in. With no means of covering, I cringed, striving to use my limbs to shield my nudity until I realized the most comforting fact. Here, every masseuse is blind.
To read the remainder of the story and learn all about the Vietnamese blind massages, check out the full article published with The Culture-ist.
And if you’re looking for other spa experiences during your time in Southeast Asia, consider a fish foot massage! It too is quite memorable.
