(cont.)

The masseuse served me tea, left, then returned, pushing a large wooden bucket on wheels, filled with fragrant hot water, in which she soon placed my feet. The water it is said, contains 20 some-odd herbal medicines, all I know is that it's fantastically soothing! She watched T.V. for about ten minutes on the opposite massage chair while I fell willing victim to the water's intense heat and ancient Chinese chemistry. She removed the tub shortly after and returned with fresh tea,insisting I drink, and began her magic on my steaming, water- wrinkled feet. The girl stared at me closely in an odd way as she worked, unlike the other girls, who usually looked over their shoulder watching the TV as they mindlessly squeezed and poked at my body parts. I began drifting in an out of lucidity was I really that fatigued? And why was she smiling so coyly at me? Soon the unfathomable noise from the TV and its lurid colored images and my masseuse all began to swim and merge in a muddled audio -visual melee before me. I was either seeing things or I was dreaming. It was if I had slowly melted into that hot dark vat of medicinal water, dissolving into nothingness.

Morning arrived with a dull headache and a throbbing sensation behind my eyes and at first I was not sure of my surroundings. "Ah! The massage parlor!" I thought to myself. I sat up groggily, then stood up to retrieve my clothes. I had folded them neatly and placed them under the massage chair. A big disadvantage here was no storage lockers; you get what you pay for. I made do by always carefully concealing my clothes beneath the special recliners, rather than the small cupboard nestled between the chairs. Fully reclined the chair resembles a bed with only a two inch clearance from the floor. It would seem impossible to remove the clothes with my body weight on top of the chair, plus the fact that the items in my pockets made the clothes thicker, hence more difficult to remove. I raised the back of the chair to get my goods and found myself staring at an empty spot on the floor! I got on my knees to look under the frame, as if somehow my clothes had crawled up into its interior. I now looked in that bedside cupboard, as well as under the chair opposite mine. I even pulled back the floor skimming window curtain. Finally there was no where within the room to look. I had been robbed!

It's what was in the missing clothes that made my heart jam into my throat. My wallet that contained $2,000 U.S. Dollars, another 1,500 RMB, my bank card, my mobile phone and worst of all, my passport! I went into instant panic! I threw back the flimsy bamboo drape used for a door and leaped into the hall. "Xiao jie! Xiao jie!" (Miss! Miss!) I shouted. Staccato footsteps echoed from the lobby. Around the corner came two Chinese girls in skimpy skirted uniforms staring at me. I pointed to my bare legs, swept my arms about the room and shouted frantically, "Zai na li wode yifu?" (where are my clothes?). One said something to the other and scampered off. The remaining girl wandered in behind me as I lifted the chair and pointed to the dusty floor, then swept my arms around the room and asked again where were my clothes, with more panic in my voice. The girl looked at me with saucer eyes, her mouth agape in a big O, nodding her head up and down, then she ran out and down the hall, deciding to leave the foreigner to his own troubles. Soon a man in a suit appeared, clutching a staticy two way radio. We sat down across from one another, he contemplating the matter, his elbow on his knee, a finger tapping at his protruding lips, brows knitting. He said something into his radio, and after a few seconds received a short reply. He had inquired as to when I checked in and who had given the massage. If he seemed surprised or unhappy by the news I couldn't tell. He asked what was missing, so I explained. He asked for my phone number. He dialed my number from his cell phone and spoke to someone whoever answered. Putting his hand over the phone, he then asked, "You give how much?" I didn't grasp this at first but then realized; the brazen thief actually answered my phone and now wanted payment for the return of my things! I told the gentleman I only wanted my passport and phone's SIM card. He nodded solemnly and then talked on the phone again.He rang off and then said in all seriousness that I should offer some money. Because they had the bank card, I asked him to tell them to bring it to me and I would give them 200 RMB. Then I explained to the man how much had actually been on me that night. His eyes widened, then he seemed to gage me differently. On his second call the thief actually had the balls to ask for my PIN number! I jumped up and took the phone from the man, yelling in Cantonese, "Do you think I am stupid? Give me my passport! Give me my SIM card! I will give you 200 RMB!" I returned the phone, but the thief had rung off.

I decided it was pointless after that. I pointed to my bare legs and asked if they had something I could wear so I could leave. The man talked on the radio and within a few minutes another man came in with a pair of packaged shorts. As I started to put them on, a girl came in excitedly with my missing pants in her hands! I quickly grabbed them and searched the pockets, only to find a 10 RMB note. We all went next door where the girl had found them and looked around, but no luck. And not surprising, the thief had readily admitted to having my things. I thanked everyone and left the place, numb with anger, frustration, and helplessness.

Something in the back of my mind began to itch; I should have been on a train to HK by now. That was the purpose of having all that cash with me. Who knew about this, other than my close friends? Who knew I would be going to the massage place? My suspicions about a shifty friend began to grow and fester in my thoughts; it had been him who had guided me here months before. I was in a city of thieves it would seem. The guy in question was hard up for cash, and I had cut him off weeks ago, realizing too late I would never recover money loaned to him. Arranging an ambush in a massage parlor wouldn't have been difficult, especially with drugs involved. I wandered into a McDonald's, slouched in a booth, sipping strong coffee and contemplating my next move.   cont. | prev. | home