What Really Happens During an Ayurvedic Massage in India? My Naked, Oily, Steamy Experience in Pondicherry
I’ve always been curious about different medical practices around the world. But nothing — absolutely nothing — could have prepared me for the Ayurvedic massage I experienced in Pondicherry, India.
Caption: Ayurveda is India`s holistic traditional medicine system. Herbs, massage, food, yoga and other practices are their treatment methods.
Caption: Pondicherry is a cozy city in South India. It was under French control from 1674 til 1954. Photo: Frank Hansen
Traditional Medicine at an Ayurvedic Hospital in Pondicherry
When I arrived at the Ayurvedic hospital, I was greeted by a doctor. She took my pulse, asked a barrage of questions, scribbled down notes and then handed me a “prescription” for massage and sweat therapy. I dutifully took my slip of paper to the designated room. What awaited me there made me instantly skeptical — but by then it was far too late.
Naked with 2 Indian men, hoping for a happy ending
Two men dressed in white greeted me. I cast a nervous glance at the massage table. Imagine a giant wooden table with metal handles, which looks like something directly from the movie and books Fifty Shades of Grey.
Caption: A “droni”, Ayurvedic massage table.
“Take off your clothes,” one of them said.
“Sure,” I replied with forced bravado, quickly stripping down.
“Underwear too,” he said sternly, pointing at my most delicate parts. He exchanged a glance with his partner, who then went and locked the door. He reached out his hand, and I gave him my underwear. He disappeared into another room with it, along with the rest of my clothes, while his colleague started making preparations.
Yeah, I’ll just stand here blooming by myself, I thought, wondering where to put my hands and what on earth I was supposed to say. It doesn’t exactly feel natural to make small talk when you’re naked in front of strangers.
“So, how long have you worked here,” I finally asked. I had my hands in front of my tiger, trying to make it look like a natural position. Looks stupid, I thought — easy to see right through. So I changed strategy and put my hands on my hips, trying to seem more confident.
“Eight years,” he said, then followed up with, “Where are you from?”
“Norway.”
And then it was quiet. Completely quiet.
Let’s just say I had been prepared for a bag of herbs or maybe a nice cup of tea. Instead, I suddenly found myself stark naked in the middle of a room with two Indian men. Not exactly an everyday scenario. I was uncomfortable, but fortunately blissfully unaware of what was about to happen next. I hoped for a happy ending…or not. Depending on how you see it.
The human marinade and the erection risk
Up on the table I went. It was slightly tilted, and I lay there spread-eagled like a starfish. Had I known this, I might have taken a shower first. But oh well — too late now.
The guys poured warm oil all over me, following the contours of my body. Then they began, one on each side, running their hands from top to bottom. Whoosh and swoosh. They moved in perfect unison, like Olympic synchronized swimmers. Slowly at first, then picking up to a rather alarming speed. Trust me when I say that this was an extraordinary experience. That technique and speed. It’s just hard to put to words.
I glistened like a honey-glazed leg of lamb. Relaxing was, as you can probably imagine, not exactly on the cards. Lying there in a X-formation in a foreign country while two men marinated me in hot oil is a rather vulnerable position.
And to be perfectly honest, even though I’m not gay, when someone’s touching you like that — with warm oil and all — an erection might happen. So I spent a lot of energy trying to steer my thoughts in completely non-sexual directions, like driving a race car.
Because if I did get hard in that situation, what on earth was I supposed to do or say? I already had a plan: I’d just go, “Sorry, guys,” smile, and walk out.
Luckily, Operation Disappear wasn’t needed.
From marinade to steam
After 30 to 40 minutes — which felt suspiciously like three hours — they were finally done with me. But as any chef knows, after the marinating comes the heat.
I was ushered into a kind of wooden box with just my head sticking out. Then the real heat hit. And by heat, I mean sweat was literally pouring off me like I was standing under a shower. I’m not exaggerating. Never experienced anything quite like it. I still wonder if the massage had something to do with that too. Not that they offered much explanation along the way.
The final mystery: sniffing the box
I took a shower and was just about to leave. But before the massage guy opened the door, he had me smell something inside a small plastic box.
It smelled... well, honestly, a bit like poo. I have no idea what that was all about. Probably some kind of aromatherapy? Even today, I still wonder.
Still, I think it was meant as a sort of closing ritual to seal the treatment. A final, slightly dubious flourish to an already unforgettable experience.
Would I do it again?
Strangely enough, yes. Once the initial shock and awkwardness subsided (several days later), I actually felt pretty amazing. My skin was soft, my joints oddly loose, and my mind buzzing with the sheer novelty of it all. And after all, as a social anthropologist, first hand experiences are key to understand the world…and yourself.
If nothing else, it’s a story. And if travel isn’t about collecting bizarre, slightly humiliating stories to tell over a beer — then honestly, what’s the point?