"That hurts, doesn't it?"

In Vientiane, you can't go far without bumbing into an establishment offering massage.  Of the wholesome, theraputic variety, I hasten to add. The most rudimentary menu will offer you a choice of 'soothing', 'Lao1 (meaning a little more vigourous), facial and foot.  Depending on the size and ambition of the establishment, any number of variations may soon follow.

I had no real intention of indulging, having generally stuck to the principle of only sharing a massage with someone with whom I would be willing to share a bed. However, my firstThursday in the country, I woke to find my lower back completely dysfunction and the rest of me barely able to walk. By the end of the day, I could barely stand straight. It was disturbing. The next day, I was heaps better, but tap-dancing - or climbing in and out of large vehicles to go to my meetings, for that matter, remained completely out of the question. The top half of my body was tilting forward at 45 degrees like a giraffe in mid-stride.

Enter Mrs B. The minute our locally-based collegues heard of my demise, they had no hesitation in recommending her. She couldn't fit me in for two days, but it was worth the wait. A small Lao woman wearing jeans and a striped, long sleeved t-shirt, she agreed to meet me at my hotel.  I later realised I had put her in a rather akward position with this request, as it was not becoming for a massuer to be seen visiting hotels. If I had been a man she would never have agreed. I so glad she did. Within five minutes, she had not only pinpointed the spot in my lower back that was misplaced, she had also identified two other spots, including this little one at the base of my skull which I gave up mentioning years ago because no physio I had ever seen in Melbourne had made the slightest iota of difference to it.

" Mmm," says Mrs B. "That hurts, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it does."
"That's hurt for a long time, hasn't it?"  I could have hugged her then and there. By the time she proceeded to make me completely better with forty minutes of massage and gentle manipulation, I was ready to dedicate my unborn children to her Genius. All this for the equivalent of about $15US.

Ms B happens to be a trained physical therapist, as well as a great massuese, so the session included helpful information about what number vertebrae were needing attention, and a little lesson in stretching exercises to begin the next day and stop the problem from re-occuring. Excellent health care in anyone's world. Unfortunately, public sector salaries for health professionals here in Lao reflect the GDP: they are at rock bottom. A doctor's monthly wage is not much more that a single Medicare session payment in Australia, and other health professionals earm much less.  As a result, this genius of life-giving goodness has to work in the private sector to earn enough to support her family, largely ministering to the aches and pains of  the employees of international NGOs and aid organisations i.e. those with foreign incomes.

If I am ever lucky enough to be back in Vientiane, the first thing I do will be call Mrs B. I might have to borrow someone's house for my visit.