A Sort of Healing in a Bar
After the first day of meeting these first friends and going romping through a jungle to find Nina's land, we...we, that is, Nina, Jeorgen (the retired Danish engineer), and I skipped off to a bar with live music. Yes, and those who have traveled to any tropical corner in the world will know the place. Bob Marley will be blaring and many of the musicians will do everything they can to look like Bob Marley, sound like him, play like him, and smoke like him. It doesn't matter what portion of the world you are in and how far removed from Jamaica. Bob Marley is the residing ghost tyrant of such haunts and there is nothing you can do about it, but just..........bend down low..."let me tell you what I know now....Long time"....
...Sorry, sorry. You see even writing of such joints, the spirit is intoxicating and can trip one into the groove. Looking around these dives, you find the same backpacking crowd and if you haven't observed this, I would venture to say it is a sort of nuevo tourism wave, though to call any of them tourists would be met with a scoff. Yet, this type of tourism tries to get away from mainstream tourism and like so many things out there that try to avoid a label, it suddenly becomes mainstream. Burlap sacks are the heyday and the clothes are a hodgepodge yarning that looks tribally or authentically weaved from the respective country that the backpacker is visiting or has visited. However, most of these are mass produced and sold only to the tourists for the locals never wear any of that stuff. And you will find the majority of the same designs from Central America to Thailand, from Bali to India, and there is no deviation in the styles. I once noticed a nicely colored bracelet in Eastern Europe the same that I had gotten in Nicaragua. Devastating. But yet, these home-woven scarves and pants and other trinkets allow the tourist to sit in a coffee shop in any tropical island with a tourism scene and to “feel” a much more part of the local scene and NOT feel like the fanny-pack wearing business man on vacation supporting corporate tourism. But let there not be any mistake about it, these tribal-crafted scarves and shirts and things ARE the new tourist flowery shirts. Tattoos are popular as well. Though, they usually are of some momentary significance like a massive elephant on the calf to commemorate one's month long romp through Thailand. Do I think that one day, this person will regret getting that elephant tattoo 20 years from now when, God help us, we all get old and with age we get to look like elephants ourselves to match the tattoo? Why, yes. Sorry. I am being a harsh critic and I probably sound older than I am. If I am wrong. Then fine. Get yourself a whole herd of elephants painted on one's legs, buttocks, face, wherever. I am not one to judge. Just observe.
This restaurant and bar that we sat at allowed one to sit on the floor on these nicely crafted pallets that fit the aura of the place. And the musicians played song after song. It seemed to me that the only way to be in the band would be to be Thai and to have long hair. I could count on my hands how many Thai men I saw that had long hair my entire time in Thailand, (unless you count the ladyboys), and half of them would have been in this bar. It goes without saying, whenever I had my long hair people would ask me if I played guitar or just assumed I did. I could see the stereotype being reinforced here. All of them looking like Bob Marley like I said before. Except for one, and he was my favorite. He had a hat on with a large feather protruding out of it. I believed he was the Bob Dylan of the bar. For he sang his songs in a raspy bluesy voice. And had this western pearl snap shirt on. Anyways, it was a bar full of Bobs.
But we were sitting there taking it all in, along with the fruit shakes, when it looked like one of the managers was scooting by. And Nina began to talk to this Thai man. He had long hair too, but was a bit older and was going bald. And he had a fu manchu, I do believe. Before long she is doing her acupressure on him. For Nina's job back in Denmark was as a licensed acupuncturist and she was supposedly so skilled at it that people would pay her big bucks so that they could go, lay down, while she inflicts all types of pain on them. The first day, I meet her, only the day before, she was enjoying pinching up under my arm that nerve very hard that made any man scream. And this is what she was doing to the owner of the bar, inflicting torture on the poor soul.
But strangely enough, he was not trying to escape. He was only wincing greatly, and squinting. I saw tears almost come out of his eyes, yet he didn't jerk his arms away from Nina's clutch. She kept pinching right away and saying things to him in Thai. Me and Jeorgen continued to sit there enjoying the music, while the people that worked the bar, foreign girls, looked over at us all wondering what Nina was doing to their boss.
Eventually she finished and he got up. I didn't know if we were going to be thrown out of there by the motley of Bobs. But before long, a lady comes by with 3 Mojitos for each of us and said they were from the owner. I couldn't understand it. I figured that, yes, some people liked massages done very hard. But I don't know, Nina didn't do normal hard massages on muscles, she pulls nerves and tendons almost.
Then she told me what the guy said. That he had had problems breathing for a long while and just felt like crap for a long while. And Nina comes along, gives him several painful shocks and now he can breath like he was much younger. He rewards us by sending us drinks over.
Then Jeorgen added a bit of revelation. That perhaps one of the most remarkable things about Nina's ability is not just her skill at healing, but her ability to intuitively sense the medical problems of others. That she had sensed this man's discomfort when he had simply walked by. Jeorgen, who had known Nina for a long time, added that her treatment is mainly for people with serious problems. And that a relatively healthy person wouldn't be able to tell the difference. That might explain why I felt nothing but discomfort when she was at work on my arms. That, and I'm just a big baby when it comes to nerves and tickling.
We left the bar. I did a little bit of dancing but I won't bother you with that.
We each depart to our separate bungalows with the mosquito nets that were right on the beach, I had geckos sharing the room with me. More to come...
.JPG)
...Sorry, sorry. You see even writing of such joints, the spirit is intoxicating and can trip one into the groove. Looking around these dives, you find the same backpacking crowd and if you haven't observed this, I would venture to say it is a sort of nuevo tourism wave, though to call any of them tourists would be met with a scoff. Yet, this type of tourism tries to get away from mainstream tourism and like so many things out there that try to avoid a label, it suddenly becomes mainstream. Burlap sacks are the heyday and the clothes are a hodgepodge yarning that looks tribally or authentically weaved from the respective country that the backpacker is visiting or has visited. However, most of these are mass produced and sold only to the tourists for the locals never wear any of that stuff. And you will find the majority of the same designs from Central America to Thailand, from Bali to India, and there is no deviation in the styles. I once noticed a nicely colored bracelet in Eastern Europe the same that I had gotten in Nicaragua. Devastating. But yet, these home-woven scarves and pants and other trinkets allow the tourist to sit in a coffee shop in any tropical island with a tourism scene and to “feel” a much more part of the local scene and NOT feel like the fanny-pack wearing business man on vacation supporting corporate tourism. But let there not be any mistake about it, these tribal-crafted scarves and shirts and things ARE the new tourist flowery shirts. Tattoos are popular as well. Though, they usually are of some momentary significance like a massive elephant on the calf to commemorate one's month long romp through Thailand. Do I think that one day, this person will regret getting that elephant tattoo 20 years from now when, God help us, we all get old and with age we get to look like elephants ourselves to match the tattoo? Why, yes. Sorry. I am being a harsh critic and I probably sound older than I am. If I am wrong. Then fine. Get yourself a whole herd of elephants painted on one's legs, buttocks, face, wherever. I am not one to judge. Just observe.
This restaurant and bar that we sat at allowed one to sit on the floor on these nicely crafted pallets that fit the aura of the place. And the musicians played song after song. It seemed to me that the only way to be in the band would be to be Thai and to have long hair. I could count on my hands how many Thai men I saw that had long hair my entire time in Thailand, (unless you count the ladyboys), and half of them would have been in this bar. It goes without saying, whenever I had my long hair people would ask me if I played guitar or just assumed I did. I could see the stereotype being reinforced here. All of them looking like Bob Marley like I said before. Except for one, and he was my favorite. He had a hat on with a large feather protruding out of it. I believed he was the Bob Dylan of the bar. For he sang his songs in a raspy bluesy voice. And had this western pearl snap shirt on. Anyways, it was a bar full of Bobs.
But we were sitting there taking it all in, along with the fruit shakes, when it looked like one of the managers was scooting by. And Nina began to talk to this Thai man. He had long hair too, but was a bit older and was going bald. And he had a fu manchu, I do believe. Before long she is doing her acupressure on him. For Nina's job back in Denmark was as a licensed acupuncturist and she was supposedly so skilled at it that people would pay her big bucks so that they could go, lay down, while she inflicts all types of pain on them. The first day, I meet her, only the day before, she was enjoying pinching up under my arm that nerve very hard that made any man scream. And this is what she was doing to the owner of the bar, inflicting torture on the poor soul.
But strangely enough, he was not trying to escape. He was only wincing greatly, and squinting. I saw tears almost come out of his eyes, yet he didn't jerk his arms away from Nina's clutch. She kept pinching right away and saying things to him in Thai. Me and Jeorgen continued to sit there enjoying the music, while the people that worked the bar, foreign girls, looked over at us all wondering what Nina was doing to their boss.
Eventually she finished and he got up. I didn't know if we were going to be thrown out of there by the motley of Bobs. But before long, a lady comes by with 3 Mojitos for each of us and said they were from the owner. I couldn't understand it. I figured that, yes, some people liked massages done very hard. But I don't know, Nina didn't do normal hard massages on muscles, she pulls nerves and tendons almost.
Then she told me what the guy said. That he had had problems breathing for a long while and just felt like crap for a long while. And Nina comes along, gives him several painful shocks and now he can breath like he was much younger. He rewards us by sending us drinks over.
Then Jeorgen added a bit of revelation. That perhaps one of the most remarkable things about Nina's ability is not just her skill at healing, but her ability to intuitively sense the medical problems of others. That she had sensed this man's discomfort when he had simply walked by. Jeorgen, who had known Nina for a long time, added that her treatment is mainly for people with serious problems. And that a relatively healthy person wouldn't be able to tell the difference. That might explain why I felt nothing but discomfort when she was at work on my arms. That, and I'm just a big baby when it comes to nerves and tickling.
We left the bar. I did a little bit of dancing but I won't bother you with that.
We each depart to our separate bungalows with the mosquito nets that were right on the beach, I had geckos sharing the room with me. More to come...
.JPG)
posted by Brian Harrison | 6:03 AM
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