Wednesday, October 19, 2016

A New World of Massage

To begin describing my five-week Thai massage training at the TMC Massage School, I want to start by talking about massage as a language.  Now, my dyslexic mind has always struggled with languages. I love traveling and communicating with others, but get frustrated with languages because they don't come naturally to me.  Even English does not make logical sense to me; between the rules that constitute it and the comprehension of it, the wires of my brain get crossed and explode.

Massage, however, makes sense: it feels like a conversation with muscles and is literally hands-on.  You touch the muscles and they respond with their story. Some are tense and others are not, and you make can compare them to each other to see which ones need the most work. The more you speak with the muscles, the more you sharpen your ability to communicate with them. Just like learning a language, you start to have far more complex conversations as your sense of feeling grows.

I first noticed how learning massage was like learning a language when I was in Swedish massage school. You start with basic words. Then you learn grammar, sentence structure, and how to pronounce things correctly. Next, you move on to creating basic sentences.  Later you start to try to carry out basic conversation: this builds in complexity and understanding. Massage felt very much like this, except words and sentences were replaced with muscle density, tension density, the feeling of skin, the lines of the body, and the breath of the person. The building blocks of the language of massage came together to create one detailed conversation. Instead of conversing in my fluent language of Swedish massage, I felt like I was starting from scratch with learning the foreign language of Thai massage. I knew from the start that it was a completely different creature.

Thai massage dates back thousands of years, and was passed on through generations of monks through scriptures. It originated from both China and India, but became something different over the generations.  A lot of it works along Energy lines called "Sen Sip", which shares similarities to Indian shakra's "Chinese Meridians", but is still very different. There are 10 of these lines and they originate above the navel and spread throughout the body.  Blockages to these are considered blockages of "wind energy" and are believed to lead to sickness.

Thai massage itself separated into two branches: Thai Royal and Thai Common Massage.  Thai Royal was practiced originally on royalty; it involves many movements, proper alignment, and modesty of body.  Thai Common was that of the commoners; typically practiced by family members and friends working on each other after a hard day of work.  Thai common uses far fewer positions than Royal and is more freeflow. It is also considered to be less modest due to the closeness and positions of the bodies of the giver and receivers. In Thai massage, it is more common for the receiver to wear full clothing. The massage is performed on mats on the ground rather than on a massage table.  Thai massage requires that the receiver remains loose, so it involves a lot of stretching. It tends to be more vigorous compared to Swedish, which involves less body movement.

The "Modern Thai Massage Movement" was revived through help of Thai government in the late 1970, early 80's thanks to schools such as TMC. This movement began after years of Thai massage receiving a more nefarious reputation due to its association with use in the sex trade in the 1950 and 60's. Even today when I would telling friends I was going to Thailand to learn Thai massage, the person would sometimes respond with a sex joke. Many people don't realize that Thai massage has a vast history and deep ties to ancient medicine.

Week 1 began a mere four days after I arrived, exhausted and bleary eyed. My class consisted of some of the most beautiful people the world has to offer.  It is true that mostly people of good heart and intention study how to help people heal their bodies, and these people proved no different.  They consisted of two Aussie gents, three Americans ladies, a British guy, a Swiss gent living in Thailand, and a Swiss woman who joined us for our last few weeks.  There were around 20-30 other students completing both shorter and longer programs, but I will concentrate on my class.  You bond quickly when you are learning hundreds of different positions and bending each other in sometimes awkward directions, and with a lot of laughter we became a tight crew along with whatever lovely female Thai teacher that was stuck with us each day.  Week 1 was all about learning properness of body and hands through a series of well over 150 positions.  The struggle was real, and we left each day feeling rather exhausted and sore, both in mind and body.



This was the 150 hour Thai Intensive training, and it indeed was that. My hands hurt, my knees hurt, my back hurt. I told them early on that I had weak wrists and thumbs and preferred elbows, and quickly received the nickname among my classmates and teachers as "Mr. Elbow". Those that know me know I like to joke and am kind of loud (which might be an understatement). I was joined by two of the biggest loudest jokers possible: two Australian body building brothers that looked like what statues of Greek gods wished they could look like. Over the course of five weeks, they would lovingly earn the nicknames of Big Trunk and Little Trunk, due to the size of their core bodies, not the size of something else. The rest of our class, though quieter but no less funny and quirky, earned nicknames as well. The two American woman earned the nicknames of Snail (because of the snail tattoo she got in Thailand), and MPA (More Power Always, because holy shit, could you never give her enough pressure).  Completing this group was the Swiss gent, who became known as Farmer Nick due to his plans of starting an organic farm in Thailand with his Thai partner Peace (classic hippie stuff).  Together, these clowns would become the guests of the Mr. Elbow Show. Stay tuned for the next episode-- Week Two: Mr. Elbow and friends learn real suffering.



Sunday, October 9, 2016

Stage 1 to Stage 2

I hit London to the comforting home of my friends Alex and Stephanie (a Brit and a Canadian respectively). Alex and I also worked Theatrino together, and has sense married his partner in crime Stephanie, they offered me all the beautiful comforts of home I had craved sense sleeping in a field for the last week, a home cooked meal and much laughter.  My last day in England I smashed by having Dinner with Lousia, another lovable dear heart Vermonter from our highschool days of old, and followed that with drinks with my equally olden time theater friends Anie and Dan.  It could not have been any better, than to also be joined by rediculous crazy artist camp friend by the name of Jake, and his girlfriend Katie.  Jake is among the most silly human beings I have ever met, and I mean that as the highest of compliments. Sitting side by side at drinks with them, Aine and Dan across from me, this beautiful bridge of different wonderful humans from different wakes of life that I am lucky to know. Not to mention the list of other beautiful English, Scotts, and Irish folks I did not manage to see on this trip, I look forward to seeing you next time around as this time and funds were so short.




Jake and Katie drove me to the airport in the later hours of the night, and bid me farewell as I prepared for what would be a 50ish hour journey to arrive in Chaing Mai, Thailand. Midway between the three flights, trains, taxi's and buses that would carry me to my new destination, I could not believe that like that stage 1 of this epic little journey had ended.  This was a step all about re-connection, not only to people that I had longed to see, but also to a part of myself I had not seen in a long time.  Travel self is so much freer of all restraints, and in seeing yourself so free you really know the boundlessness of what you are capable off.  It is also exhausting, gross, uncomfortable and down right gritty, which keeps ones honest and grounded in the process.

I arrived in Chaing Mai Via:
7 hour layover in London
3 hour flight to Croatia
2 hour layover in Croatia
2 hour flight to Ukraine
6 hour layover in Ukraine
10 hour flight to Bankok
6 hour layover in Bankok
12 1/2 hour bus to Chaing Mia.

I stumbled dirty and exhausted into my home for the next month and a half, decimated by such long travel, by heart thriving with the thrill of it all. I would jump between guest houses, but spend a month of my time at Giant Guest House in the North Corner of old Chiang Mai.  This adorable hippie house was perfectly situated close to all the yummiest restaurants, temples and bars at a price of just over a $100 dollars for the month, well all right then.


I have dreamt of Chaing Mai sense I came to the Monastery here that helped change my life perspective, and the seed of studying here started there. Here I was about to study Thai massage for five weeks with the help of the amazing community at home that got me here.

Around England in 80... I mean 12 days

My trip to England was really one to visit old friends. I had twelve days and was attempting a Jules Verne esque around the world in 80 days type venture (seeing as many friends as humanly possible in the country while on a very short budget).  By the way all the Jules Verne thoughts come from the fact the latest book I picked up was "Around the World in 80 days", which works as it's so damn English, and is a lovely classic if you can get over the inherent racism of the late 18, early 1900's in it.  I proceeded to Travel across England, from Weymouth on the Southern Coast, to Stoke on Trent in the Mid-West, To Birmingham to Liverpool and back to London.  For anyone who has traveled to England recently, the country has not really gotten much cheaper, with train tickets being exorbitant unless you manage to snag a quick deal.



Regardless, the price was well worth the incredible human beings I was attempting to see. I started by seeing my dear English sister Emily down on the southern coast, (we had not seen each other for about 7 years sense we toured together in Theatrino in Italy). She still remains a most incredible, lovely spazio of a human, who delights as she does what she is meant to do, teaching grade school children. We hiked and giggled, laughed and made faces and reminded each other that we would not go so long without spending time together.

I then trained up and across to Stoke upon Trent, to see my delightful highschool theater friend and gem of a human Erin, with a very pregnant belly and an equally delightful English hubby Steve.  We hiked what is called The Roches, a stunning rock formation with 360 views in traditional sunny, rainy English weather, ate incredible Chinese food (Erin and Steve know, sense they both lived in China), and they broke me down and convinced me to watch the latest season of Game Of Thrones.  These true heart buddy dorks, near and dear to my heart were so good to see, even though our time was so short.  I look forward to whatever delightful demon spawn they bring upon the world, and to see what that awesome child will grow up to be. From here my trip diverged as I went to meet my buddy Chris, another Theatrino friend from Italy.  He had come to visit me a few times during his American adventures, but now was such a cool time for me to come visit him, as it was to help him with his newest Charity he started with friends not to long ago, FORWRD.


What they do is collect tents, sleeping bags, chairs and clothes left at music festivals and send them the refugee camps.  I spent the next few days working all day in the few stupidly hot English days that exhist in a year. I raced bulldozers to collect tents along side some of the most incredible volunteers from all wakes of life.  I was brought to tears and felt distraught with the human experience, as I watched such blatant mindless waste left by mindless unconnected young folks get bulldozed by money greedy mindless older folks.  At the same time I marveled and was lifted by the incredible work of my friend Chris, and the other coordinators and volunteers that worked relentlessly to gather survival materials for those without the most basic accommodations.  My funds low, I followed this humanitarian salvage mission by joining Chris to work a clothing stand at a Trance Music festival called Creamfield's, were we partied hearty with a lovely group of blokes, body painters, soccer players and trippie sun glass wearers.  Exhausted, dirty and full hearted yes empty drained I hugged my buddy Chris, who is a beautiful person of a human through and through goodbye, grabbed a selfie at the train station with my theater camp buddy Dave and ventured on to London to say goodbye to dear old England.

P to the A to the R I S, to B to the Ar-celona

I spent the better part of five days wandering picturesque Paris, while many Parisian's were on holiday, I wandered the streets, ate the bread, drank the coffee and wine and soaked in the feel of why the world goes to Paris.  Despite the recent attacks on the city within the year, Paris maintains that feeling of love, wine, food and cigarettes as the sun sets. My friend Emily reminded me, nothing will stop Parisian's from enjoying themselves. I spent a day at the Louve, I had never visited before, and I mainly wanted to wisk by the Mona Lisa and hang with all the 17th and 18th century Italian and Spanish painters, and also steep myself in art of the Italian Renaissance which always tickles me.  Paintings as tall and as long as small houses, with characters, gods and demons swirling all around shows such a dedication to the creation of something so much bigger than ones self.  Art of such scale tells incredible stories, not only in what is being depicted but also in what the artist was trying to attain, also talk about dedication.
A mere six hours at the museum was only a taste of what they had to offer.  If you have ever been to the Louve you understand, if you have not, go in off season or else you might drown in tourists, it was crowded for an off season day. Emily and I spent a beautiful hung over morning in one of the most famous graveyards in Paris, that is home to Oscar Wilde, Edith Piaf, Moliere, and many other sweet famous folks, and is also vast and hauntingly beautiful.  We met up with an old Vermont Friend Juan, drank to much wine on canals and rolled Patanque (French Bocci Ball) with lovely strangers from across the world. Emily and I also spent a day in the strangest park I have ever visited, which was a left to the wilds, and is a turn of the 1900 century exhibition of the colonies of the French Empire. Each now derelict building represented a different country, and they even flew in families from the countries to live there during the actually exhibition at the time, crazy.  Also before I knew it I found myself saying goodbye to Emily and all the lovely ones of Paris and was en-route on another overnight bus to Barcelona.
I have never visited Spain, do not speak Spanish, however I have dreamed for years of the food, the winding streets and ancient churches.  I rolled up in the early morning when the city was most definitely not awake (Dinner does not usually start until at earliest 9pm, and you party until the sun comes up).  I spent my time in Barcelona with an old childhood friend Sam, that had relocated to Barcelona, and was killing it doing online web design, photography and food blogging as well as an occasional food tour. I could not have wished for a better reconnect with an old friend over delicious food and drink, or a better guide.  Every day we ate different Tapa, fish or yummy dish of Barcelona, and I died with all the goodness.  I spent the better part of the evenings at the block festival going on in the neighborhoods north of the center, were every block decorate there street to the nine's in themed reused materials, from Star Wars to Jules Verne.  We danced and partied until the early light until I collapsed exhausted and extremely happy.  Travel is an absolute beautiful heart/mind screw. You soak up different places, languages, foods and people and fall in love with all the differences and similarities of the human experience, only to realize that you can only just taste them all a bite.

There is not enough years in a life to bury yourself within each culture, especially when traveling quickly.  Sam and I spent one of my last days hiking up to the fort that overlooks the city, taking photographs and marveling at the different in perspective even a hike up a hill can have of a place.  life moves with a sad beauty that blows me a way, and within a few days I was off again flying to an place I have crossed many times but not seen for years, ye old England.