I was riding to work one morning and after riding in silence for some time, my driver spoke during a pause in traffic.
“Excuse me, Pak. I’m sorry for the smell.”
I looked up from my phone. I didn’t smell anything. “What do you mean?” I braced myself. As noted previously, given the ease with which people talk of bowel function here, I could be in for anything.
“Well, I have a sore on my leg…”
Hmmm. There definitely wasn’t the smell of a festering wound. “Oh?”
Now, doctors are in strong competition with massage therapists here. They may be losing, too. Massage therapists are the go-too folks for all sorts of ailments. Sports injuries, aging, moderate traumatic injury. All can be healed with a good massage.
“My massager tells me he can’t fix the sore on my leg.” Now, both the Mrs. and I work full time which means our driver is under utilized much of the time. Several months ago, he asked if his “Massager” could come to our house to work on his leg as this massager was one of the best, but it was too far to visit our driver at his home. So, we allow this to happen and apparently at undetermined intervals, this massager comes over and massages my driver on the floor of our garage.
He continued. “My cholesterol too high. So, he make a...a...a paste with ginger and something. It make my leg hot...and keep my, uh...uh… hoses…clean. So, then my blood flow better. But, there is a smell.”
“Well, I don’t smell anything, but do you need to see a doctor? Do you have diabetes? I’m happy to pay for a doctor for you.”
“No, Pak. I fine. Just a sore, cholesterol and clogged hoses.”
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