Friday, February 4: Ayruvedic Massage in Varkala

Varkala, Kerala Province, South India:

Stark naked on a wooden stool set on the dirt floor of an airy grass hut under the coconut trees. She began by gently touching my forehead, nose, and chin, and then she poured about half a cup of oil on top of my head. Before I could object she was vigorously scrubbing, like a rough shampoo. My hair has never been so messed up, and I admit that it took me a few minutes to get over all the oil and the tangled mess and relax. "Listen," I wanted to tell her, "light-skinned blondish people just don't have the fondness for all this oil that dark-skinned, dry-haired people have. We wash it every day to keep it from being oily. Oil is our enemy." But instead I told myself to stop being so uptight. It'll wash out. And besides, it was invigorating.

The head massage was followed by hard strokes down the neck and back, then a squeezing and pulling of the arms. It was all very fast, designed to get the blood flowing. No new age harps, pressure points, or "balancing" here. A participatory event. I was told to hold my arm out straight and she moved in big strokes from shoulder to wrist, really working up a sweat. More oil, more sweat, and then I was told to lie on the massage table.

I slid onto the cushioned naughayde and almost slid off the other side in the oil slick that was now my body. She caught me though, then began again, pushing, pulling, dancing. She was graceful. She held my wrist, pulled on my arm, pushed my shoulder, through my chest, stomach, and did a strange hard whirling with one finger around the belly that ended in the navel. Hardly an inch was spared. Breasts were treated as extensions of shoulders, stomach, hips, then singled out for a quick but gentle circular whirl ending with a curious light nipple pinch. The feet and hands were rubbed til hot, and the joints popped by grabbing with a cloth and pulling hard. Then it was the head again. She stood behind me, her fingers rubbed behind my ears. She folded them forward, then back, then around and around and then she put her fingers into my ears and held them there. Weird, but by then I was past caring, in fact, I felt the last of my tension disappear, and melted.

She left for a few minutes so I could enjoy my trance, and then came back to lead me by the hand to a small cement room for a hot herbal washdown. It was like being a child again.

Prem and Sheela

Ayruveda is a science that was begun by priests about 5000 years ago here in India. It's believed to be the world's most ancient holistic health care system, with an emphasis on prevention and right-living. Massage is only one element of a regime of Ayruvedic prescriptions used to regain the proper balance of body, mind, and spirit. A treatment takes a couple of weeks to complete, and is custom-designed after a consultation with an Ayruvedic doctor, who takes 5 years to train. Whether it's weight-loss or nervous system disorder, gastritis, reproductive system trouble... you name it, the Ayruvedic doctor will get the unbalanced human back into balance.

But the tourists only want the massage. This has caused more than a few problems in the beach havens of Kovalam and Varkala. Aryuvedic masseurs have been accused by female tourists of sexual misconduct. So much so that it is now illegal if Varkala for a masseur to give massages to women. "These people call themselves Ayruveda's," says xxx of xxx. "But they are not. Real Ayruveda's spend five years in training, and at a proper clinic a doctor is always in attendance."

But women want massages, too, so what to do? XX solved the problem by schooling his wife in massage, and she gives massages to their female clients. "I am by training in business finance," she told me. "So it was a big change for me." A good change, according to the clients I intercepted coming out from her massages. Each had the same distant, blissful aura about them, and hearilty recommended her services.

Ido gets his shoulder checked (a bad day of bodysurfing)

I'd already scheduled a massage at the nearby Kairali Ayurvedic and Yoga Centre, with Sheela, a second-generation practitioner, and her husband Prem. Prem studied the required three and a half years to become a certified Panchakarma assistant, though he is a third generation Ayruvedic, schooled since childhood by his father and grandfather. He was recommended by several people who live in town. I liked them instantly. Prem is shy and soft-spoken. Sheela is dimpled and prone to giggles. She speaks shyly, too, as if she were always telling secrets.

After my massage we sat and had tea. I asked how they met, and they confided, shyly, that they married for love. "Prem is Brahamin," Sheela told me. Giggling like a teenager, she added "and I am not!" In the highly-regulated Indian caste system this is scandalous, and Prem's family has disavowed him. He has not heard from them for 16 years. They do not know Sheela or their daughter, Deepikra, a beautiful 12 year old well on her way to becoming a 4th generation practitioner. Sheela's 16 year old niece, Sreeja, also works with them.

I was impressed by their energy of caring and sharing in this booming region of tourism that leaves a lot of local professionals, however qualified, with a hustler's competitive vibe. They seemed calmer, more centered, than others I met, though most of the tourists who used the local services were pleased. "You've got to try the massage they do with their feet," one Englishwoman told me, looking radiant. If only I had a couple of weeks. It would be a lovely vacation, becoming balanced in this environment.

A poster in the massage room Herbal medicine and balancing teas also play a large part in Ayruveda, and the process is just as mysterious as one might expect. "In season we go to the jungle and gather herb leaves, seeds, and bark for the oils," Prem told me. "Then we prepare them, which takes hours and days of making powder, then boiling in water and oil." They do this in Sheela's mother's big kitchen in Trivandarum, a large city about an hour away which is the Ayruvedic center of the world.

There are over 60 items in the concoction they gave me for the scrapes and aches I still have from the motorcycle accident. I like the way it smells - not like perfume, not like medicine, but an earthy, healthy scent in a base of coconut oil. "Most preparations have 20 to 80 ingredients," Prem told me. The recipes are family secrets, ever-evolving. "We are always learning."

Ayruveda is an ancient science, the most ancient science in the world at 5000 years old, and it basis is balance. Balance of Vata, Pitta, and Kapha. Body, mind and spirit. Incorporation of diet and exercise, yoga and meditation. Ideally, Ayurveda is a lifestyle, but here in Varkala, it's just another way to relax.

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