T A B L E_T A L K Moving to a foreign land? Share tips on living abroad in Table Talk's Wanderlust area   Find a world of travel books -- new, rare and out-of-print -- at barnesandnoble.com Search by:  Keyword Title Author     R E C E N T L Y This week in travel Wanderlust's select guide to the top travel-related news stories from around the globe (02/19/99) Don't go near the mountains By Dawn MacKeen From narco-tours to daily chit-chat about kidnappings, a stay in Cali, Colombia, is a plunge into the surreality of a pleasant nation engaged in an endless war (02/18/99) Captive in Kosovo By Susan Milligan A journalist finds herself caught in the middle of the Drenica Mountains with a guerrilla pressing a gun against her head (02/17/99) Losing it in Cambodia By Morrie Erickson Getting a haircut in Cambodia is a good deal -- especially if you like getting more than you bargained for (02/16/99) This week in travel Wanderlust's select guide to the top travel-related news stories from around the globe (02/12/99) Browse the Wanderlust Feature archives Wanderlust's Official Travel Book Partner		Walking on silk A massage teacher in Thailand changes a westerner's life. BY THOMAS GOLEMBESKI I had been in Bangkok -- known in Thai as Krung Thep, the City of Angels -- for a year before I met an angel myself. Her name was Sompit, and day after day, in her blue and yellow uniform, she would wait for me at Wat Po, the second holiest shrine in Bangkok. With its 150-foot-long, gold-covered image of a Buddha reclining, Wat Po is a major stop on every tourist's itinerary. But most visitors do not delve deeply enough into the maze of buildings to learn that Wat Po also houses Thailand's oldest public university, where Sompit taught traditional Thai massage. Not long ago, I had the good fortune of being her student. When most people hear the words "Bangkok" and "massage," they naturally think of the international flesh trade that draws foreign men to Thailand on sexual vacations. But the "modern" massage offered in Patpong, Bangkok's red-light district, is very different from the "traditional" massage offered at Wat Po. While the former focuses on sexual pleasure for men only, the latter promotes both physical and spiritual rejuvenation, and is enjoyed by all members of Thai society. During my many visits to Wat Po, the clients I saw ranged from elderly matriarchs barely able to walk to office workers on their lunch breaks to Buddhist monks in their saffron-colored robes to babies fresh from their mothers' arms. I was spending a year in Bangkok teaching English and living across town from Wat Po, in the Hua Mark district. Every morning, I was awakened at dawn by the ringing of bells summoning Muslims to prayer at a nearby mosque. A tiny old man on a rusty Schwinn used to ride throughout the neighborhood, calling out into the darkness, just in case anyone missed hearing the chimes. Walking down Soi 24, a twisting side street leading to one of Bangkok's main avenues, I would see the faithful leaving their shoes at the threshold before entering the mosque. Already, the streets were alive with vendors hawking T-shirts and students breakfasting on rice porridge at sidewalk food stalls. Miniature squid dried on open racks, warmed by the rising sun, while the pungent smell of fish sauce lingered in alleyways. Since rush hour lasts all day in Bangkok -- the city suffers from some of the worst traffic jams in the world -- I usually traveled by water bus to Wat Po. The canals are extensive enough to earn the city the nickname "Venice of the East," but they are choked with filth. Pollution controls are haphazard and much of the city's sewage ends up in the canals. But this does not deter the commuters dependent on the klong, not even the petite businesswomen in silk suits and spiked heels who would lunge from the rickety piers onto the passing boats with briefcase under one arm and purse slung over a shoulder. The water buses displayed Bangkok's society in all its diversity -- one minute, I was gliding past slum dwellings of salvaged wood and corrugated tin where women washed dishes and clothes in the black water, the next I was peering into the backyards of lush compounds where workmen tended the gardens of the wealthy and diplomatic elite. Near the end of klong san saep sat Wat Po, an enormous stone complex that resembled a walled city. From the canal pier, I could see the temple's gilded spires rising above the surrounding neighborhood, the patterned mosaics of the ancient skyline growing more detailed as I neared the front gate. I would pass through the main hall where the reclining Buddha was and immediately feel the noise and stress of the city leaving me. The soothing aroma of burning incense filled the room. All around were small altars where melted candles dripped wax onto the floor and plates of fruit and rice were arranged as tributes to the Buddha. The steady rhythm of offering coins being dropped into bronze bowls set in racks along the walls was like raindrops on a rooftop. Deeper inside the complex was the massage school, where Sompit would be patiently waiting for me, fanning herself with a tattered magazine. Rising to her feet, she would bow slightly and say, "Hello, Thomas. It is good to see you." Sompit was, I imagine, in her early 50s, but her cheerful eyes and warm manner emanated an ageless vitality. As we proceeded into the school, we passed other masseuses -- some grinding powders for use in herbal therapy, others scattered about on padded platforms kneading the muscles of their clients with fingers, palms, even elbows, and still others sitting with small groups of students discussing the philosophy behind these techniques. All conversation took place in hushed tones, while soft breezes wafted through the school's open walls. The teak ceiling, painted a pale orange, radiated a calm that even the insistent traffic noises of the city outside could not penetrate. N E X T+P A G E | Satisfying fundamental human needs through massage - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Become a Salon member. Click here.   _________________________________ For more information: _________________________________