I went through a pile of colorful flyers in the information section of the foyer. Hong Kong massage is a popular and sought-after service and masseuses of all descriptions advertise various skills and qualifications, promising stress relief and blissful experience. I leafed through the images. Some of the Hong Kong massage girls smiled broadly with frozen fake smiles, and I somehow doubted their abilities. Others appeared stern; I didn’t like the idea of them pressing me mercilessly on the couch. Then, amongst the pictures and the bright italics, I saw a small, fine, thoughtful-looking face, serious, yet sweet and friendly. Few accompanying lines revealed her name, Si, and modestly announced several years of practice as outcall massage specialist in “many good Hong Kong hotels”, and satisfied customers who “often call back to request a repeat session of outcall massage in Hong Kong’.

I asked the reception to call Si and went in my room. Soon there was knock on the door, a man from the hotel brought a massage table and left it open in front of my bed. Si was on her way.

The massage girl who entered my room was slight in build and fresh-faced. She wore white top and trousers. Together with her clear skin and short, tidily cut black hair, this instantly brought into the room a clean, crisp, medicinal presence. I felt calm and peaceful at once. She spoke a few words, then gestured to me to lie face down on the table covered with thick towel. I noticed her small hands with clean oval nails, shaped neatly like almonds, covered in pale pink pearlescent polish. She moved around me with light steps, her feet small and brisk in a pair of cream flats.

Si started massaging my neck. Her hands were strong, but she did not apply much force at first. Just gentle massage touches, one after another, her skilled swift palms pressing my skin tenderly. I felt warmth radiating to my shoulders, my joints and tendons trembled under her touch. Si’s hands followed the wave of heat under my skin, caressing and stretching every painful, achy, contracted inch of my back and legs. She was pressing more firmly now, stroking and kneading deep into the layers of my skin with endless circular massage moves. The massage strokes cascaded down to my legs, awakened my muscles, enlivened the stiff painful bands of skin and tendons, released the pressure of my tired, stressed out, knotted body. Her breath was hardly audible, she was working hard, but silently, fully concentrated on my body, focused on the deep, powerful contact with my skin. A cloud of peace engulfed me, the vanilla smell of the towel underneath entered my nostrils and touched my face. Sprawled and caressed, warmed up and stretched by Si’s tantra massage healing hands I allowed my mind to drift and then simply nodded off.