Everybody wants to be naked and famous

I survived a Ukrainian banya. I'll see if I can explain it in a simple kind of way.

The banya is the Ukrainian (and Russian, for that matter) version of a sauna, and is thought to be a very healthy thing to do. Some Volunteers have gone to the banya with their entire host family (though they are separated by gender in the banya itself), while others have been more or less forced to go because they are told that it will help them recover from whatever sickness is currently ailing them (or at least I read about that in a book of Cross-Cultural stories PC gave us).

Anyway, I was invited to a banya by my friend Trina, who also lived in Obukhov during training and now lives in a tiny little village (Arlovka) about an hour and a half away from the swinging metropolis that is Simferopol. Her vice-principal actually has a banya on her property, and Trina invited me to go along with her. I had already heard about a few of my friends (fellow PCVs) going to banyas, and I was excited to try it out. A day after my invitation to the banya, Trina called me to tell me that her vice-principal had mentioned something about her husband being a "professional trainer" who was very adept at administering the banya and would be happy to do so for Trina and me. This seemed strange, of course, as I had heard that banyas were single-gender affairs, but we both figured that things would be sorted out when we got to the banya itself.

Which we did, at about 5 pm last Saturday. We were ushered into a room with a warm fire going in the fireplace and one of those light-up pictures of a waterfall that they sell on the side of the street out of the trunk of the car in America. Funny the kinds of things they have here and the kinds of things they don't. So, the vice-principal, who was a lovely woman that spoke in more or less rapid-fire Russian to us, brought us our sheets (people wear these in a kind of toga fashion, or at least that's how Trina and I wore ours) and told us to go ahead and get changed. Of course, just because someone knows that you're getting changed doesn't mean they won't proceed to come in and out of the room in order to complete whatever errands need completing. The VP also assured us (at least this is what we think she was saying) that her husband was a professional and it was very normal for him to administer banyas to all kinds of people (she listed a slieu of nationalities). This, we decided, was her way of assuring us that it was ok that her husband was about to see us totally naked. Very comforting.

After we were all sheeted up, Trina and I were escorted to the banya itself, which consisted of a somehwhat large room with a bench and a shower in the corner (this served as a kind of "holding area" where someone could sit if they got too hot in the sauna) and the sauna itself. The sauna was made out of wooden planks (at least on the inside), and was probably about 9 feet long by 5 feet wide. There is a raised platform for a person to lay down on and some steps leading up to the platform where someone could sit pretty comfortably. There's room next to the steps and platform for the banya-giver (?) to move around. And of course there's some kind of furnace with stones in the corner that keep the room incredibly hot.

So, Trina and I went into the steam room and sat down on the platform. Never having been in a sauna before (even in America), I was clearly confused about what to do. Trina assured me that we were just supposed to sit and talk and get sweaty - something that appeared much easier for Trina, a self-confessed champion sweater, than for me. So, we commenced the talking and sweating when the vice-principal's husband entered the sauna with only a small blue towel wrapped around his waist. He would intermittedly check our arms to see if we were sweaty enough (it was at this point that I started to feel like some sort of meat product who was about to encounter the barbecue for the first time), and, when we were, he gave us an overview of the banya and then the adventure began.

First, we each received a massage while we lay on our backs. This was pretty normal, though sweatier than I usually prefer for a massage. Sweat was more or less a theme of this entire experience. Then, we went into the holding room to drink a little water and a little beer, both of which we had brought with us. After that, the real banya began. I went in first, and lay down on the platform. The muzh (Russian for husband, and more or less how I referred to my banya-giver in my mind, as I forgot his name) put eucalyptus leaves that had been soaked in hot water under my head and asked me if the temperature was ok. Then, he picked up two bundles of birch leaves (which had also been soaked in hot water), shook them over me (causing a mini-shower), and then started slapping them on my back and legs. The slapping may sound painful, but it wasn't at all. The most challenging part of the banya is the ridiculous heat, which makes it difficult to breathe. Just when you think that it has cooled off enough for you to handle it, the banya attendant will pour some more water on the stones, causing breathing to become a conscious rather than unconscious effort yet again. At one point, I was convinced that I was going to have a heart attack, but, clearly, I made it out alright. So, after about ten minutes on my back, I was asked to turn over (say what?), which, at that point, was good news as it meant that we were getting closer to the end of this whole incredibly hot stint. The same sort of thing went on again for another ten minutes or so. Afterwards, the muzh led me to the "pool", which was about the size of a hot tub and filled with freezing cold water. He jumped in head first. I did not. Once I was in the pool, which was much deeper than I had anticipated, all I cold say was "Holodna, holdona" ("cold, cold"), and I think the muzh found this rather amusing. I stayed in the pool for about thirty seconds before climbing out and heading back into the sauna, where the whole ritual was repeated.

We were told that usually people repeat this whole cycle (birch leaves to pool) five to seven times. Thankfully, I only went through twice before Trina went up to bat. I then became the official "leaf holder", which is just about as important as it sounds - not very. Trina went through the rounds twice before the VP came in saying something about someone being here to see Trina. Once again, this was all in Russian, so we were still generally confused about what we were supposed to do, especially since we were, you know, totally naked. It was eventually made clear that we needed to put on our sheets (we were given new ones - the old ones were quite wet with sweat and vapor at this point) and come outside. Which we did, only to find that three of Trina's students were dressed in costumes and waiting to sing us a Christmas carol (the next day was Orthodox Christmas). It was then, when we were standing in the 30 degree Ukrainian night air clad in nothing more than a white sheet, that I understood what a blessing it was that my first banya experience had been far away from anyone I would have to see on a regular basis during the next two years.

Anyway, that was my first banya experience. In the end, I learned that being naked in front of someone is somehow less strange when they're beating you with birch leaves and constantly checking your breathing. It's kind of like being at the doctor. Nakedness becomes perfunctory. Though I will say that next time, I'll stick with the single-gender banya experience. Just to get a balanced view, of course.

When it was all over, the VP treated us to ice cream and cookies, which is pretty much the best way to end any experience, in my personal opinion. If, for example, I could treat you to ice cream and cookies after reading this entire post (sorry it was so long), I definitely would. :)