Perhaps the only thing "alternative" about me is my love for Coldplay (whom i-tunes has informed me falls into this genre) and the fact that I very nearly got my nose pierced in Kuala Lumpur. I was "this close" to adding a little bling before learning that the trendy mall where we were shopping while on holiday didn't do that sort of piercing. I caught the clerk at the jewelry store's drift, and her disapproving glance, and shrugged it off as something I'll have to do next time I'm in a country with sterile equipment and a low rate of hepatitis.
Earlier in our holiday I sat on the beach in Penang with my i-pod, waiting in line for my turn at the beachside Chinese foot massage. Coldplay was crooning in my ears, "It's such a perfect day," and from my vantage point I had to agree that those alternative British boys were spot on.
The emerald water (which is a nice way of saying the island's water is a little less than pristine at the mouth of the Melacca Straight) was lapping up along the coarse, light colored sand. A barefooted Malay boy of Indian decent was on a horse galloping quickly along the beach front, much to the delight of his client, a chubby Chinese boy who sat behind him in the saddle. Other Chinese tourists were trying their hand at motoring along the same stretch of beach on quads, while the sandy strip was also being shared with shrouded female tourists from Iran accompanied by their bearded spouses. The sun was brilliant. The paragliders who risked the highflying experience were silhouetted against the bright sky. The scream of jet-skies punctuated the environment.
It was the kind of happy frenzy Asia is famous for. There were, to my knowledge, no forms to sign, no fine print to note, and no particular promise of safety... simply adrenaline and the knowledge that a day as warm and gorgeous as this was meant to be enjoyed.
My particular pleasure was found in the beachside foot massage. Under an unpresumptuous black awning stretched across three surprisingly comfortable massage tables, I brushed the sand from my feet before retiring to the terry-cloth covered bed and surrendering my feet for scrutiny and massage. Chinese medicine has so many strange and fascinating facets, but for me foot massage tops the list. From the tips of my toes and the balls of my feet the practitioner suggested: I don't drink enough water, I don't get enough rest and have no problems with my liver or ovaries. You can image that this was a great relief to me, as certainly I came to the beachside for a consult on my internal organs!
Their hands are magical however, and worth the weird and sometimes accurate predictions they offered. This guy, for example described where I get headaches (front left) and the accompanying neck pain on the opposite side (I call them my chopstick headaches, because it literally feels like a bamboo chopstick is skewered on an angle through my head. I only get these headaches rarely, like on the occasions that I really do not get enough sleep and when I'm jetlagged.)
The next afternoon, we checked the girls into the fab Kids Adventure Zone, and Sean joined me under the black tarp (which is the same kind they use at greenhouses in China to grow fruits, like strawberries, outside of their normal season.)
We opted on the second day for the one-hour full body massages, which were given simultaneously.
"Your ovaries are very good!" my guy announced. (Again, he found this from the bottom of my feet.)
"Your reproductive organs are very good," announced Sean's guy. "90 percent chance of a boy next time!"
"I'm going to need a little more than that!" Sean replied. He was used to the harassment. Already in Little India he had been cajoled by Indian-Malays who suggested, "Next year a boy," while he walked down the streets with his trio of girls. He got good at their game, quickly saying that they were not to worry when they raised three curry stained fingers, "Next year is a boy," he told them reassuringly with a wink.
We're certainly pleased to have reached the "no-more-diaperbag" stage of parenting. We're quite enjoying the ages and stages of our girls these days. They are increasingly mobile, allowing us to be so too. Before we know it, it could be they who seek weird body piercing!
They were sitting
They were sitting
In the strawberry swing
Every moment was so precious...
Cold, cold water
Bring me round
Now my feet
Won't touch the ground
Cold, cold water
What ya say?
It's such
It's such a perfect day
It's such a perfect day
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