Massages on the streets of Cusco

On every street corner leading off of the Plaza de Armas in Cusco, you can hear them. Young women holding out a card as you pass by saying, "masage, masage."

For those who can't speak español, that's "ma-sa-hey." But the h isn't silent. It's muy fuerte.

Young attractive women, offering massages on the streets of Cusco, to tourists.

Today, I am limping. Not due to the soreness in my neck or upper back, but due to the pain in my left calf and my middle toes on my right foot. That, and it feels like the muscle in front of my left shin has been torn off. I step slowly. I take stairs one at a time.

The first time I get offered a "masage, masage" today, I can't look over at her. Too many other tourists around. Half a block up the road, another "masage, masage"

¿Cuanta cuesta?

"Treinta soles, mister"

I could swear I remember offers of twenty and even fifteen over the last week.

She tells me to follow her, she'll show me the massage parlor. I tell her maybe later and I hobble back over to the first woman down at the bottom of the road.

She again offers the masage. I ask her how much, and she says, "veinte." ¿Veinte? "Si, veinte." Veinte esta bien.

She tells me to follow her to the parlor and I do. I follow this young attractive woman offering masages up the road. The whole time I'm hobbling after her, I'm carefully avoiding meeting the gaze of any the other tourists. Looking down. Away from their faces.