I have come on a pilgrimage to India to find out if it is possible to cure all my ailments (excess kilos/fluctuating but generally high blood pressure/ high cholesterol and probably more) in two weeks.
I have heard about Ayurvedic medicine and the excellent results that some people have experienced, so here I am at Sagara Resort at Kovalam Beach in Kerala, awaiting my consultation with the doctor.
The resort is intriguing in as much as it is a work in progress. Apparently it all started with a couple of rooms and then the owner built a bit more and so on until here it stands today, almost finished! In fact, a huge pool has just been completed and all that remains is the tiling which it is expected will be finished during our stay. Workers (well workmen actually, since I do not believe there is such a thing as a female building labourer in the whole of India) are everywhere and are apparently working twenty four hour shifts. They run around with wound up towels on their heads into which they fit baskets of gravel to tip onto the front driveway which is under construction. Labour is cheap and machinery expensive, so it follows that this is the most economical construction method. But it is surely not easy in the hot midday sun!
We often see the owner of the resort, a charming, funny and cuddly man, who lives nearby and who, the staff tell me, is humble enough to do any job that needs to be done. If a maid is sick he cheerfully kicks in, getting the room ready all by himself for new arrivals. Similarly, he is only too happy to act as a waiter or kitchen staff member in the hotel restaurant. He is a most impressive man who surely deserves his great success.
We have been given a lovely suite with large bedroom, bathroom with bath, lounge/dining room and balcony. Also included is a television with cable connection which is just as well as my understanding of Malayalum (the local language) is nil. We have a terrific view of Kovalam Beach and the lighthouse which stands proudly over it.
Day two and I have my first appointment with the Ayurvedic doctor (Dr. Jayahari). He is young and very friendly, and absolutely passionate about Ayurveda. He spends a considerable amount of time drawing diagrams on a piece of paper as he explains the history of Ayurvedic medicine to us.
He wins my heart straight away – he asks me about body processes that have long since expired. I ask him how old he thinks I am and he says an age twenty years younger than I really am. How good is that? If only my friends (and enemies) had been there to hear it! Drat!
He questions me about my dreams and the weather I prefer. This is to obtain my body type. It can be one of three types or a combination of the three. Called doshas, these types are Vata, Pitta and Kapha. I’m Vata/ Kapha dosha. Since Kapha is fat, I have too much Kapha – to put it bluntly.
He weighs me and takes my blood pressure – it is 130 over something or other and then feels my pulses (at my wrist). He tells me that my excessive cholesterol is due to too much oil in my body and that his first plan of attack will be a foot massage. This will be the first step to losing heaps of weight!
He tells me that by the next day he will have a fourteen day treatment plan for me.
Hmm, a foot massage… how nice! This might not be so bad at all. I am totally intrigued by a foot massage that takes off weight.
I return at 2pm for my foot massage. I have a problem with massages as some masseurs have such a hard touch that I can nearly go through the roof with all their pressing and kneading. But a food massage should be quite bearable and I just love the way my feet feel afterwards.
At the appointed time I am shown into the treatment room. My first thought is I am experiencing a live episode of “Wire in the Blood”. Hanging from the ceiling of the tiled room is a rope. I have visions of being strung up but I blink and look around me. There is also a massage table with a brass pot on a stand.
The masseuse arrives and asks me to take off all my clothing. All? Yes, all. Yikes!
Now why do I have to be nude to have a foot massage? I just knew that there were deviant activities in this room. The rope was a dead giveaway.
Oh well, I have to report to the world about this and the more perverse the experience, the more I am reckoning that they will all love to hear about it, so I obediently strip off, sit on a little stool and cross my legs.
The treatment starts with a head massage. She sprinkles oil on my head and shoulders and kneads and thumps away for five minutes. I am totally lulled into a false state of security.
She then asks me to lie on a gym mattress which is positioned under the rope. I lie on my stomach and she begins to massage (rather vigorously) my back and arms. But what happened to my foot massage?
I peek around and there she is, hanging onto the rope with one hand, and balancing herself against the wall with the other one as she dexterously massages my body with one foot. And what a powerful foot she has! I have to ask her to tone it down. She massages me from top to bottom, from back to front. I am totally slathered in thick yellow oil. So THAT is a foot massage!
She now asks me to lie on the massage table. It is not easy negotiating the room when I am oily but I somehow manage. It is also difficult climbing on the bed without shooting over the edge like a greased up rocket. She then proceeds to give me another lengthy massage – this time by hand.
She cheerfully tells me that if I have this treatment every day my fat will melt away.
So this is how to shift fat without lifting a finger! Oops, I mean without lifting one of my fingers! I have often wondered if it is possible to lose weight by massage. It would apparently have to be a very long and vigorous massage – every day of the week! But who can normally afford such a luxury?
Anyway, the treatment is not over yet. She hauls over the brass pot on the stand and fills it up with warm medicated oil. My head is positioned under the pot and slowly the oil drips down through a hole at the bottom of the pot. This is Shirodhara – a treatment reputed to open the third eye. She moves the pot around and the oil drips down in a stream onto my forehead for twenty minutes. What bliss!
The whole exercise takes two hours and as you can imagine, I am totally drenched with oil.
In the meantime I have been pondering on a rather worrying problem which I can see coming up. Namely, that, oily as I now am, I will have to slip into my lovely red caftan when I return to my room. But she pops my caftan in a bag and hands me a green hospital gown. She tells me to wear it back and forth for the course of my treatments. Thank goodness for that.
The masseuse tells me to wait an hour before showering and because my hair is dripping with thick oil, I also have to wash my hair. This is to become a daily ritual. I personally find daily hair washing to be a bit of a bore so I am doubly put out to find that there is no complimentary shampoo or conditioner available in the bathroom. Luckily, for once in our lives, we have actually brought with us a few hotel bottles we have saved from previous holidays, but we are to find that there is no hotel (at our price range) in the whole of Kerala, that supplies hair products. Biju (our driver) later tells us that this is because the Kerala people only use coconut oil in their hair. (But would this clean their hair too, I wonder?)
I wondered if my mother would receive the same treatment as me. However, she did not receive the foot massage. Maybe this is reserved for fatties. The doctor later tells us that due to my mother’s advanced age (80) he thought it was too exhausting for her.
This is part one of a three part article.