The Bolivian Spa Experience

The other night we went out to a “highly recommended” spa for a relaxing, well-deserved massage. They’re so cheap here, about $10 for 45 minutes, that it’s almost a sin not to pamper yourself every now and then.

I came in pretty sore, still recovering from typhoid, and was looking forward to the experience. There were three of us there - I decided to go last, and after an hour of near-napping in the lobby, they finally told me to come in and undress. While I’m not so comfortable with nudity, for the sake of a good massage I can deal with it, but this was too much – I was given a disposable white cloth diaper to wear in the place of underwear.

As I was walking over to the shower, I was shocked to see my friend Andy sitting in a wooden box, completely enclosed by a green tarp surrounding his neck, only his mud-covered face sticking out of the top. After I got over the shock of this Bolivian version of a steam bath, I took a 30 minute trip to the unbearably hot sauna, which featured me opening the door every 5 minutes to let in cold air. After another shower, Andy and I swapped places, and I had some personal time with the steam bath. It took me about 15 minutes to realize that the moisture dripping down my body was not in fact water, but my own sweat. I’m sure that anyone who actually likes hot things would have enjoyed the experience – it was relaxing for the muscles, and the box was filled with nice smelling herbs. For me the highlight was having the tarp lifted and being sprayed down with spine-chillingly cold water every 5 minutes.

From there I spent another 30 minutes in the now slightly cooler sauna, and then I was escorted to what I thought was the actually massage part of the deal. They had me lay down on a bed, sandwiched between two heavy blankets, on top of a vibrating mat that was rather uncomfortable (and something like the massage chairs they sell at the Sharper Image.) Next I was slathered – from head to toe – with gobs of “all natural, aloe-based” moisturizer. After ten minutes of being “moisturized,” they told me “listo” (done), and that was that. Later on I heard that my two other friends had their pressure points beaten by a stick by the head masseuse, just to make sure they left feeling relaxed.

So, two and half hours later, I left the establishment feeling very sticky, uncomfortable, and a lot more stressed out than when I went in. But despite my mal humor afterwards, I have to say, it was a pretty hilarious experience. I’m actually a bit sad that I wasn’t beaten with a stick, more for the humor than the therapeutic value. But no, I will not be going back to experience the “energizing waters of Lake Titicaca” or the “chocolate bath.” I think not…