So. After the cyclo ride, the two Australian girls and I went to Highlands Coffee next to our hotel to take a rest. I have discovered that Vietnamese coffee is amazingly good. They put sweetened condensed milk in a cup, and then place a small brewing device over the cup and let the coffee drip in.
I talked with my traveling companions and we got to know each other a little better. Amanda works for a children’s charity in Melbourne, working with kids whose parents are drug users. Julia is a travel agent and lives on the Gold Coast, although this Vietnam trip was just for fun (not for work.)
After coffee, we all wanted to get massages but did not want to pay a fortune. The Lonely Planet guide told me about a place down the street called the Vietnamese Traditional Massage Institute, which isn’t the cleanest place but gives no-nonsense massages at cheap prices. Perfect.
The coolest part, in my opinion, was that it is a blind massage parlor, meaning that all the masseuses are blind. I think this supposedly makes the massage better because their other senses are heightened, like the sense of touch, but I’m not really sure.
When we got there, we were led into this beautiful courtyard and upstairs. There, a guy handed us tickets and sent us down the hall, giving us no further instructions. Then we started seeing blind women walking around. One of them felt my arm and then motioned for each of us to go into a separate area (the massage tables were separated by curtains. The one who grabbed my arm scared me for some reason – she was strikingly ugly, with only one front tooth that jutted out of her mouth, and eyes that were squeezed shut. I can’t really describe it without sounding mean, but she made me uncomfortable. Anyway, my friends picked two rooms and I suddenly realized I was stuck with the scary lady.
She led me into her area, and since she didn’t speak any English, she just touched my shirt and said, “Off, off.” I could hear the same exchange going on in all the rooms. I didn’t want to shock her by stripping naked, because I didn’t know what the norm was, so I just took off my shirt. She felt my bra. “Off.” Okay. She felt my pants. “Off!” Okay, okay, sheesh. Everything came off (except my underwear) and she pointed for me to lie face down on the table.
The massage was actually really good. I tend to get ticklish when people touch my lower back, and so when she tried to massage me there I tensed up. I think she took this to mean that I was sore there, and massaged it even harder! I couldn’t tell her to stop because we barely speak a word of each other’s languages (the exception being “off!”), so I just had to wait it out. It was a full body massage, and I thought the best parts were the leg, neck, and head massage. She wasn’t so scary when I got used to her. The only really strange thing is that I thought blind people were supposed to be graceful, because they have memorized the feel of their surroundings perfectly. Not the case. She kept bumping into the table and waving her hand around to feel for things. That just surprised me.
After the massage, we took a long colorful walk down to the five-star Rex Hotel to check out their rooftop cocktail lounge. One pina colada turned into dinner, and we spent a little more than we would have liked, but the food was delicious. Then, our server gave us the wrong change. We politely explained the mistake to him, and his English was perfect. However, he refused to admit the mistake, simply telling us to “trust him.” It was only a small amount, but we objected out of principle. Whatever happened to “the customer is always right?” Finally, we left in disgust.
Another unpleasant surprise awaited us at the hotel. We had asked the hotel lobby to watch our luggage, and a huge hole was ripped in one of my bags. It went straight through and looked like someone had deliberately knifed it. The only thing in the bag was books, and nothing was missing, but it was still bizarre, and it was still my bag!! The hotel refused to take any responsibility, saying that they thought it was like that when I gave it to them. I was incredulous. I think I would have NOTICED if there were a GAPING HOLE in my BAG. They finally conceded that maybe mice ate into it, but could offer me no compensation but an insincere “sorry.” It wasn’t the best night in terms of customer service. I remember that being one thing that really cut into me in China – you are completely on your own. If something happens, you need to fend for yourself. Don’t expect anyone else to take their own responsibility for thefts, damages, etc. I guess it’s better that I was reminded of this sooner or later, but it still gave me a twinge of nostalgia for the States.
Finally, we met up with our phantom Scotsman traveler, who had been out drinking the night before and slept until 7 pm. We made it to the train station and got on our sleeper car (air-con soft sleeper, the best quality luckily.) I went to sleep almost immediately. What a day.
