Our Three Cents: Pamper Yourself Cheaply
Article by Helene Goupil
Photos by Mark Gallop, André Salvador, Bonnie Yoon

In the crowded streets of Delhi, a man with a red hat that has long tools sticking out of it zigzags his way through street vendors and travelers, and seems to be heading toward you. He finally reaches you and offers his services, which seem to have something to do with your ears. You’re about to refuse when you realize that he’s not just trying to sell you Q-tips, but that the red hat is the mark of a traditional ear-cleaner. Knowing that Indian royalty considered ear-cleaning a weekly treat, you figure that if they enjoyed it so much, you most likely will too. Besides, it’s less than $5. As soon as you accept, you find yourself in a quiet part of the street that you never knew existed. Nervous but excited, you let the man insert a spindly instrument in your ear. As the man rotates the tool inside your head, you notice that street noises are almost completely gone. His careful movements help you relax, and you stop thinking about all the horror stories you heard as a kid about people bursting their eardrums with sharp objects. Strangely, the rotations become comforting, and you’re almost disappointed when the man pulls out the instrument. The street noise is back, but a ball of cotton dipped in mustard oil quickly shuts it out again. Before you know it, your head is tilted on the other side, and your other ear is ready for the same TLC.

Hat Ton Sai, in southern Thailand, is a small beach ringed by limestone cliffs that is only accessible by boat. Imagine arriving in here after a day of traveling with a heavy backpack. As you’re walking on the beach, you notice a small hut where a lady is sitting by a row of empty mattresses. She smiles and asks if you’re tired and would like a Thai massage. You look around, feeling a little guilty because surely real budget travelers wouldn’t give in to such luxury. Or at least, that’s what your travel partner has been telling you since you arrived in Thailand—but you lie down on the mattress anyway. After all, it’s less than $7 for one hour. As the lady puts pressure on your back with her elbows and knees, expertly following the “ten lines of force” that are believed to run through your body, your travel buddy approaches. Instead of feeling guilty, you stay relaxed and keep your eyes closed. As your spine and joints are being stretched and pulled, your travel companion quietly joins you, and gives in to this delightfully thrifty indulgence.

In Southeast Asia, any piece of clothing can be reproduced and tailor-made. Anyone who’s visited Hoi An, Vietnam, can attest to this; if you can wear it, the genius tailors in this small medieval town can make it. Just describe it, draw it, bring an old piece of clothing, or choose from their many styles in binders full of photos. After you decide on your new look, let the staff get your measurements, choose a fabric, and tell the tailors when you want to pick up your duds. Adding to the heavy load in your backpack might not sound like a good idea, and neither does the expense of shipping merchandise home directly from the store. But consider this: A man’s suit in Hoi An will set you back approximately $30. Although it’s admirable to think that you’ll never want to work anywhere a suit is de rigueur, there will, believe it or not, be times when a suit is just what a man needs and nothing else will do. That’s what my travel partner found out after refusing to buy a suit in Hoi An. When he came home, everyone he knew seemed to be getting married and he had to pay nearly ten times what he would have in Vietnam.