In Kuwait, I Really Am a Piece of Meat

So, I've been in Kuwait for almost 3 weeks and it's been a culture shock to say the least. People stare at me, the Team Members in the store say it's for any number of reasons, but mostly because I look like an American. (although 3 times I've been spoken to in Arabic and surprised the person when I didn't understand). Anyway, I was starting to feel like a piece of meat. Men just stare, it's their thing. The culture isn't the same here. The kids as well. Little kids who have never seen a white person, let alone one who smiles and makes eye contact. It's strange for them. I think I scare them. But, I've never felt more like a piece of meat than I did yesterday.
You see, R, the multi-unit manager, is getting married to N. N is lovely, funny and sweet. Her mom is the manager of a health club and N generously offered my co-worker and I free massages. Of course, we were like HELL YES! I mean, we've been running around like crazy people, doing $9000 in sales a day.
So, yesterday was my day off....I decided to go for it and get the massage. It was the most surreal, sitcom-like experience of my life.
Let me give you a little back story. I NEEDED this massage. Lu and I went to get massages the Sunday before I left, needless to say, it didn't happen. Some crazy explanation about a mistake in the reservation booking and a free mini-facial later, Lu and I were sent on our way with $100 gift cards and a desire to get good and drunk. So, I was sooooo looking forward to yesterdays massage.
The Health Club was super nice. Water aerobics going on in the main pool, a gorgeous gym with any and every machine you can imagine and even a track. N asked me if I had a towel. I replied that in the states, they supply all of that for us and asked if she could maybe find me one. N took me to the room and told the masseuse that I was to get a one hour massage. She did and I went into the room after asking if I should wear my underwear or be naked like home. N told me I could wear underwear or nothing, whichever I was more comfortable in. I am naked at home, so I thought, "Why not?". The room was not what I expected....it was cold, like a room made of cinder blocks....it kind of looked like a jail cell, nothing to make it relaxing like muted colors, soft music, plants....just a table a chair and a very scary and strange machine in the corner.
And to top it all of, the masseuse never left the room.....she put butcher paper, like the kind at a doctor's office on the massage table....and in broken english kept saying, "You get ready, lay down". So, I sucked it up and got naked, she probably sees this all the time. I lay down on the table (paper covered) on my stomach and draped the towel over my back and more importantly my ass.
The masseuse said "No, other side" I proceeded to flip over and cover my torso with the towel.
Here's where it gets exciting.......
She walks over to the table, adjusts my towel so it only covers my vajayjay and squeezes baby oil all over my legs. At this point, she proceeds to literally tenderize me while saying "Is nice? Is nice?" "This first time massage?"
I was in shock, she not only did this crazy baby oil (I think she used two bottles) rubdown, but she did it to my stomach as well. Have any of you EVER had a stomach massage? My boobs were flailing around like they were going to flag down a cab on a New York City corner. It WAS NOT pretty.
Again she asks, "Is nice?"
This goes on for another 30-35 minutes where she has me flip over half way through and just completly loses the towel...I mean, butt ass, freezing naked as a jay bird and jiggling like jello all over the table as she proceeds to give me the LEAST relaxing massage of my life.
THEN...yes it gets better, she pulls out some crazy massage machine and rubs it on my calves before it shorts out or something. As she does it she asks "Is nice?" I am pretending to be asleep because I want her to stop talking.
She says "Machine broken, okay?"
I say "Yes, it's okay"
She says "Massage done, next time you come, use machine"
I say "Okay, no problem, mafi mushkeela(no problem in Arabic)"
She says "You mad?"
I say "No, no mad"
In the meantime I take the towel (I have no shame now) and start wiping off the buckets of baby oil and she comes over, grabs the towel and starts wiping off my back, "I no use too much!!!" She exclaims....Oh, my friend, I beg to differ.
I finally slide into my clothes and go to find N. N's mom finds me and asks why I finished early and I tell her apparently the machine broke. N's mom tells me this masseuse is supposed to give me the full hour regardless of the machine. I tell her, "No, don't worry. I told her no problem....Mafi mushkeela"
N's mom says, "She's Romanian, she doesn't speak English....or Arabic."
They offer to let me sit in the sauna or spa, but all I want to do is wash the baby oil of my skin and out of my hair, I was literally worried that I would slip away.
I don't want to complain because it was such a kind gesture, but I was praying to God as I was getting dressed and the prayer went something like this...
"Dear God,
Please give me the strength, patience and sense of humor to see this for what it is...a kind gesture and a FUNNY AS HELL STORY TO TELL PEOPLE!"
It was good that I went first, today was my co-worker's day off and I got to him in time to warn him to "Just say no thank you!"
I am in such pain today in my neck and lower back, I have a constant reminder of my experience as a piece of prime grade A beef.......
But sometimes you have to suffer for your art....now I can despite the pain, I have a funny story to tell about my lovely time in Kuwait.....