Coco (nut)
A cocoon of tranquillity. A coconut husk sponge for that much-needed exfoliation.
week of dealing with the usual modern day stresses, I‘d been looking forward to this part of my break.
And then...
Tok. Tok. Tok. Errr... Expecting a gentle, oily, coconut-y caress, my senses are instead jolted by a gentle but persistent pounding down my back. It sounds — and feels — like I‘m being hammered — much like a piece of wood that you see at the carpenters. I wince slightly when a more sensitive part of my upper back is tapped. Am I going to bring home bruises for souvenirs, I silently muse to myself.
But my apprehensions soon dissipate as my body becomes more in tuned with the rythmic tapping of the wooden mallet and wedge, and I find myself settling into a more relaxed state, finally enjoying the sensation of intense vibration that seems to be working wonders on my stiff muscles. Even the knots feel like they‘re untangling. Silent whimpers of ecstacy ensue as warm coconut oil is langurously poured over my body and the tapping gives way to the more familiar deep tissue and Thai massage.
Her tone gentle,Taew explains that the Tok Sen massage, as it‘s called, is an ancient practice originating from northern Thailand, specifically from the Kingdom of Lanna of which Chiang Mai was the last capital.
Tok means to strike or tap, while Sen refers to the meridian lines in the body. All that Always in the capable hands of well trained therapists.
tapping with the mallet and wedge creates a healing vibration which penetrates deep into the muscles and in turn, releases any blockages that may be present. Once that‘s achieved, then a more natural flow can be re-established.
“According to legend, the best Tok Sen mallet came from the wood of a tamarind tree that had been struck by lightning, which was then blessed in the monastery. In northern Thailand, they use this type of massage technique to cure those with ligament problems or have problems walking,“adds Taew, with a shy smile.
I barely catch her last few sentences as I find myself drifting, against my wishes, into dreamland. The hynoptic strokes, the hot coconut oil, the overall feeling of being totally relaxed, defeat my determined resistance to slumber.
By the time I come to, the threatened storm never came. The world outside is bathed in a golden hue. And looking on like a contented mother is Taew, holding out her hand to help me down from the bed.
Now that‘s what I call pampering. With a capital P.
intanm@nst.com.my