Driving into the airport terminal this morning I noticed an advertisement on the shuttle bus we were following, it said, LOVE THE JOURNEY. I thought YES, that is how I want my trip toward Burma to start. From this moment forward I want to LOVE THE JOURNEY.
I received an email invitation in September to Myanmar for a celebration. My Burmese friend ended the formal request with the personal words, “We will be praying for your safe arrival”. Ok, did I miss something, I just got the invite. Did I say I was coming? Hmmm already expecting me to go. Is this his way of getting me to ponder the thought of visiting? Or knowing him, is there a divine aspect to this cordial offering? Well it definitely worked.
As some of you may recall, I tried to visit the Golden Land about 8 years ago and was told I tore up a hotel and my visa was denied. I forget a little these days, but back then my mind was sharp so you would think I could remember the 21 hour flight and all my shenanigans. Trina The Trasher at your service, I digress. After a few interesting circumstances that I won’t expound on, plans were set in motion and here I sit at the Admirals Club typing to you and waiting to depart.
Yesterday, after packing and with a few hours to spare I decided to visit the Korean Spa for a clean out of sorts, before embarking on the long flight of germs and the like. I’m not phobic about such things, just wanted to feel my healthiest for the long weeks away in another land. It was a good way to begin the physical preparation for the journey. For those of you who have not had the pleasure of a Korean Spa I will explain a bit.
First, the Asian culture seems to get it right with personal hygiene be it Japanese, Korean and I will check out the take from the Burmese side when I get there. They are masters at purifying with natural things that come from the earth. So Water is where they begin. From steam saunas and hot whirlpools in varying temperatures of over 100, to cold plunge pools hovering at 60 degrees that blast mind numbing streams of water down from the ceiling directly into your cranium. Feeling refreshed? Onward to the cleansing rooms. I don’t know what the “official” name is for these rooms, but that is what I will call them. The Yellow Soil, Salt, Air, Gold, Charcoal, Straw, Ice and Fire–(translation: Hot like you don’t want to live there for eternity). Each room consists of the elements I have just named and act to rid the body of impurities based on each ones special properties. There is a brief description before entering that explains the benefits you will enjoy by coming inside. On my first apprehensive visit a few years ago, I did take the time to read all the descriptions, but I am not recalling all the particulars right now. The way I see it all of these Asian faces surrounding me look pretty darn good. So I’m staying in hopes that my French, Scottish, English, Dutch ancestry would take a cue and start implementing sooner than later. The charcoal room is one of my favorites and I do know that it is supposed to eliminate-toxins. The walls are literally imbedded with charcoal and I’m not talking your Kingsford char-briquet variety. The raised ceramic heated floor tiles seem to cradle your body in warmth and work wonders on lower back pain. Woven baskets hold small heated rocks that you can pick up and caress in your hands to relieve tension or place on other problem ridden areas. The Air room blasts you with guess what? Air. After visiting Fire you can cool down in Antarctica by opening the Ice door. When I am not pressed for time, because of leaving for a trip that stops in Seoul Korea...what??? I usually like to linger for at least 5 hours minimum to get the whole purified effect. Today being abbreviated, I have jumped from room to room like a Mexican jumping bean believing that the fast track will still bring me the desired results. Along with everything I have described, there are places to get every type of massage be it foot, Swedish or stone within the confines of Spa-Dom. Cinema, T.V., restaurants, sleeping and children’s rooms live hand in hand with the pampering palace. Basically, a complete family experience if one so desires.
The final coup d’état is the Magic Cell Scrub. I’m not sure of the origins of the title, maybe this is just a case of this is the closest to what we call it in Korean. However, since I have experienced the scrub before, I would say it really means, when we have taken off all of your skin by scrubbing and you only have cells left~Magic! It had been about 9 months since I had the treatment (that becomes relevant later in the story). In thinking about it, it is truly amazing that you pay a small statured Korean woman to take 30 grit sandpaper, in both of her delicate little hands and start scraping them across your unclothed body so fast that even though your eyes are closed, you swear she has just plugged in a power hand sander and started to work. When I say we Anglos shed the skin during this process it is an understatement in every sense of the word. Think snakes in the desert, the cocoon of their former self scattered about the sand, multiplied by 100. Part of the problem is that we North Americans have not yet incorporated such practices into our cleanliness rituals. I mistakenly thought I wouldn’t be so bad this time. Yes, it had been a few months, but I have been sanded in the past, maybe it will be a “two snake” kind of day? Wrong. When I heard my sweet scrub master say strongly in her accented English “Way too much, Way too much!” I knew I was of desert quality. I have thoughts of all these scrubbing techs standing in the back room drawing straws of who has to take the white girl. Sorry Candy, today you drew the short straw. But hang on, the hardest part is over. As you lay there skinless, buckets of warm water are now doused over you repeatedly (think the old time fire brigade), bye-bye snake. Now, is when you feel like you have just been wheeled into Jiffy Lube for your quarterly fix, move over Quaker State, Johnson & Johnson has arrived. To say there is a lot of oil involved, well, let’s just say that during my whole lube process I kept thinking as soon as I’m out of here, I’m buying stock in the baby oil giant. As my arms dangled off the table and oil dripped down every fingertip “Karate Kid Candy” came to life. Oil On, Oil Off, Oil On, Oil Off, buffed to perfection. Now for the fresh cucumber mask that I love. Today, it is really quite fresh as I hear her grating the cucumber beside my right ear. I don’t know what is in it besides the cukes, but it smells wonderful and has the white creaminess that would remind you of cabbage coleslaw. So just call me slaw face, I don’t care especially if my skin looks like Candy’s when I am done. As the mask sets and the hot towels steam in all the oil, the locks of hair that have witnessed the whole show now get their own suds. Operation Magic Cell is complete.
The health and beauty benefits to my body from simple, yet at the same time complex natural components makes me thankful to the Creator. The cleansing process is not just about the physical, but of the mind and spirit as well. To sense the beginning of an exotic voyage and want to have every pore opened up, and filled with something new, meaningful and exciting. The realization that even the little painful parts hurt for a moment and produce a wonderful outcome. All of these thoughts and so much more I will be pondering as I LOVE THE JOURNEY.
I am loving mine right now with baby soft skin Bound for Burma.