October 10th 2:21pm - Massage & Indian Suitor

Over the following days I wavered between regarding Ammu as an angel with a pure heart and an Indian with a hard-on.
Most people are attracted to the foreign and the exotic. Not me. I like white men. Preferably not albino.
After Ammu bought thali dinners for me and the Scot and drove the Scot to the train station on his motorbike, I agreed to get a massage the following day for "Indian price."
"White people" (gora) price for an hour-long massage is between seven hundred and twelve hundred rupees.

"Indian price" spans between two hundred and three hundred and fifty rupees. Ammu charged me three hundred rupees (about six dollars) for an hour-long massage in his Ayurvedic healing center. On our first encounter, Ammu accused me of possessing a too-short leg and crooked back. He prescribed coconut oil drops in my belly button and eating two almonds a day. A disabled sheep would have had the intelligence to refuse his massage offer.
However, the previous massage I received in India cost nine hundred rupees. I was craving a three hundred rupee massage as much as monkeys covet bananas.
When Ammu entered the room, I was appropriately stripped for the occasion and lying on my stomach feeling like a dead fish.
He clapped his hands in delight."You have fifteen-year-old-body!" he pig-squealed.
The Ayurvedic healing massage commenced conventionally with my back, arms, and legs. When I turned to lay on my back, Ammu belly-button-raped me with the aggression of a Chinese foot lover.
After five minutes, his pointer finger prodding into my belly button felt like a fire poker thrusting into flames.
After ten minutes, I determined he was envisioning his pointer finger into my belly button as paralleling sexual intercourse. I assured him it had probably been an hour, and thank you, but I had things to do.
"Cushy happy?" Ammu liquid chocolate eyes asked.
"Ya, Cushy happy. But Cushy needs to leave."
"Massage good, Cushy?"
"Ummm, sure, massage was fine."
My remainding few days in Udaipur, Ammu paid for my meals and arranged for me to watch an Indian mutton dish being made in Rainbow Restaurant's kitchen. He passed me a joint while I stirred the concoction. He paid for henna tattoos to be drawn into my hands, and brought me a bottle of wine after I mentioned I missed wine. The wine tasted like fermented fart, and I was as interested in a relationship with Ammu as I was with one of the homeless cows hopscotching down the streets.

One night, Ammu sang love songs to me on a night paddleboat ride. Udaipur's hotel and restaurant lights radiated over the lake and fireworks discharged into the sky. I celebrated the romantic ambience by ceremoniously throwing up over the side of the paddleboat into the lake.

2 comments:

marysabelleneveu said...

I am very happy to read this...

I pretty much could have written this text myself except for the massage wich I did not get because I don't like it!

Ammu is both an exceptional persone who is willing to give everything he has and at the same time, he always makes you doubt of your own good jugment...

Thank you for this post! It's going to help me on my reflection on this encounter.

Anonymous said...

wow, I'm so glad I just found this post. I met Ammu about 6 weeks ago and he chatted me up prior to me jumping on a boat and was waiting there for me when I returned. I did end up going to this room for a massage (2hrs for 2500rupees) and he told me the same things, one legs shorter, bad lower back, did a ayurvedic treatment on my back, but sat in the room with me the entire time, chatting away, I was quite uncomfortable. He also told me to drink a milk, crushed almonds and saffron drink everyday for a month. He seemed really nice, if not a bit creepy, but I did have a question for him and tried to email, but have not heard from him since. Then I found you blog and understand.