The Healer

Already last Sunday, I felt I was taking a cold. By Wedneday there was no doubt, nothing serious, more of a growing nuisance. Then, Thursday and Friday it descends into my lungs. Knowing that this could turn serious, I question Annette, owner of Tabo Cottages, about finding antibiotics, if I need them. Her remedy is a massage. "He's a healer," she comments. OK, schedule one for me. I ask the price. Since he will need to travel several km she thinks 60000 rp ($6) is a fair price. He is an elderly man with a closely cropped mustache and a beard which starts just under his chin and is thinning. His hands are powerful. He throws a mat on the floor of my room and spreads a sarong. He pays special attention to my throat. Working an area, his hands pull away sharply, squeezing my skin as he does so and he snaps his fingers. It is as if he is collecting the germs and disposing of them. An hour moves quickly and the massage ends. I no longer have my chest cold. I'm still somewhat congested, but feel much better.