Boundaries can be a good thing

I was dreading my layover in Korea on the way home. I had to spend the night, and when I did that on my last trip to Australia it was a nightmare. I stayed in a scary, ghetto hotel, I couldn’t sleep all night, I didn’t understand how to make my lights go on or how to flush a toilet, etc…

Last night was a wonderful surprise. Courtesy of the Hyatt Regency Incheon. It’s the only nice, western-style hotel in Incheon and I was smart enough to stay there this time and not just save a buck cozied up to the prostitutes this time.



It was magical. I had a huge, luxurious room, everything was in English (easy toilet flushing) and best of all they had a spa. After my “panic attack” I thought this might be a great idea. I called and asked for a massage. They asked if I wanted a “scrub” first. I thought this would be a great idea since I was covered with dry skin from all the sun in Australia, and hey, it was only a $15 add-on.

I walked in to the gym and all the old confusion returned. First they handed me a robe and a pair of grey cotton gym shorts and a locker key. I got the key and the robe, but the shorts had me baffled.

Mistake #1: The locker key goes to not one, but two lockers. I was wandering around the locker room getting the lay of the land when a lady started telling me in Korean something I didn’t understand. She took me to the entrance and showed me small lockers. “shoes.” Ah…no shoes allowed. I get that. You put your shoes in the little locker and get slippers on. THEN you go to the big locker and put your clothes in there and put on your robe and… shorts? It seemed like she was saying yes.

Mistake #2: I had on my robe and gym shorts and wandered through the locker room again to what looked like a door to a sauna. I walked in and saw all the women were naked. Some sitting on stools with little shower nozzles spraying themselves off, some in the sauna, some in a hot tub or cold pool. It was pretty cool (minus all the naked women) but I realized I was wearing a lot more than everyone else.

Mistake #3: SO, I went out and took off my robe and shorts, put them in my locker and rejoined all the naked people feeling a bit self-conscious since I’m not accustomed to walking around naked much. As I entered the door AGAIN (3rd time) I noticed a bowl of salts by the door. All of a sudden I thought, maybe the scrub I bought was access to this facility and I scrub myself down? No one else had salt, but I had paid, so I grabbed a handful and started scrubbing it on my arms and legs. Grabbed another handful and sat on one of the nifty shower stools and scrubbed more salt on and prepared to wash off. I got a lot of surreptitious looks, but I figured, ah, probably haven’t seen a naked westerner before.

Mistake #4: I finished rinsing off, grabbed a towel, went back to my locker, put on my shorts and robe again and walked out to reception. “Is it time for my massage?” Broken English—“Uh, no, no—go back in to hot tub. Wait for scrub. 20 minute more.” Hmm…pretty sure now that I wasn’t supposed to scrub myself, and also realized I had to go get undressed…AGAIN. I took it all off, went back and hot tubbed and sauned, and cold tubbed, and sauned, and hot tubbed some more and finally a lady came in who spoke NO English and told me to follow her.

Mistake #5: Learn Korean. The scrub woman had on bristle-y rubber gloves and she signaled for me to lay on a hard table on my back. The only words she knew were “massag-ey” and “hard?” She started scrubbing and seemed amazed and thrilled by all the dead skin she was finding which she proudly showed me. This woman scrubbed me to within an inch of my life AND scrubbed me everywhere. And I mean everywhere. I had to lie on my front, back and both of my sides in odd positions. But I couldn’t talk to her and tell her stuff or find out what the heck she was doing. At one point she scrubbed my back so hard and so long that I think she removed an extra layer skin and I had to screech for her to stop. She said, “Hard?” “Massag-ey?” Umm….YES. I will say I have not felt this smooth since my Turkish Bath where I was also beat to a pulp, but I did feel more than slightly violated, manhandled and sensitive where I lost some extra skin.

Next stop was the massage with oil. Before I went in, I asked the lady in the locker room (with signals naturally) if I was supposed to wear the gym shorts. I didn’t want to make the same mistake I did in Turkey and show up naked when everyone else was dressed. She kept nodding her head, so I guess that meant yes.

Mistake #6: Wrong. As soon as the masseuse came in and saw me lying on my stomach on the table she took off the towel, saw shorts and pulled them down. Not off, just halfway down my legs. Which let me tell you, felt really, really weird.

The massage was going well though, no beat down, until all of a sudden I felt the table move. I couldn’t see what was going on since I was laying face down, but it was pretty clear she had straddled me on the table to get a better angle. At least I hoped that was why she was on my back. I couldn’t ask, obviously, and I could only go off of my experience last year with my Korean masseuse when she complimented my lady lumps, and a random story from Robbie Reid's trip Asia when his masseuse asked if he wanted a “happy ending.”

So now she’s straddling me and my shorts are around my knees and I started having a real panic attack as I think about these two stories. So much for the relaxing massage.

Turns out, no harm was done, no charges needed to be filed, and I walked away not only cleaner, softer and no doubt thinner, but also with a couple lessons learned. One, there are no professional boundaries in the world of Korean massage. This includes where you are rubbed, how much clothing you’re wearing and where the masseuse must stand. Two, I must learn how to say, “do I wear clothes?” in every language because I get myself in trouble with this in every country I go to. I never seem to be wearing the right amount.

I have never gotten dressed and undressed so many times in one spa experience, and the frustrating part is I still don’t know what those darned gym shorts were for. Unless it was just a little joke on the stupid Westerner that they all had a good laugh over later. I don’t blame them for this, I just want in on it.