Monday, November 13, 2006

An American in a Helsinki sauna.

In an article in the Dallas Morning News, Rick Steves reports on his first experience of a sauna in Finland. It is interesting that something as simple as a bathing ritual that is everyday for Finns is "exotic" to an American. Here is an excerpt:

To learn about the sauna in today’s Finland, I got on the subway and headed for the scruffy Sörnäinen district and my destination, Kotiharjun Sauna. Outside, a vertical neon sign in simple red letters read: SAUNA. Under it, a bunch of Finnish guys wrapped only in small towels and drinking beer filled a clutter of white plastic chairs, expertly relaxing.

As there wasn’t a word of English anywhere, I relied on the young attendant at the window for instructions. He explained the process: pay about $9, grab a tower, strip, stow everything in an old wooden locker, wear the key like a bracelet, shower, enter the sauna and … reeeeelax.

"Was it mixed?" I asked.

"No, there’s a parallel world upstairs for women."

"What about getting a scrub?"

Pointing to an aproned woman, he said, "Talk directly with her … 6 euros [about $7.50] extra."

The sauna was far from the sleek, cedar prefab den of steam I expected. Six crude concrete steps with dark wooden railings and rustic walls created a barnlike amphitheater of steam and heat. A huge iron door closed off the wood stove (as it was busy burning its cubic meter of wood a day). The third of the steps was all the heat I could take. Everyone else was on the top level, for maximum steam and heat.

Taking in my towel, I wondered if it was used for hygiene or modesty. Once inside, the answer was clear: neither.

People look more timeless and ethnic when naked with hair wet and stringy. The entire scene was three colors: gray concrete, dark wood and ruddy flesh. There was virtually no indication of what century we were in. I fantasized I was in the 1700s. From the faces, it was perfectly clear: This was Finland, and these were tough working-class guys. Each had a tin bucket between his legs containing cool water to splash on his face.

I asked about birch twigs. By slapping your skin with these, you enhance your circulation. The roughed-up leaves emit a refreshing birch aroma as well as chlorophyll, which opens the sinuses. But the bin of birch twigs sat on the bottom concrete step, unused.

Part two of a good sauna is the scrub down. The woman in the apron, looking like a Stalin-era Soviet tractor driver, was dousing one guy who sat on the plastic chair looking like a lifeless, Viking Gumby.

I asked, "Me next?"

She welcomed me to her table. Wearing a white and green vertical-stripe housedress under her apron, she scrubs men one at a time all day long. Sitting on the table, I ask "up or down?" She pushes me down, belly up, and says, "This is perfect. I wash you twice."

Lying naked as a fish on the plastic sheet, I felt like a salmon on a cleaning table ready for gutting. With sudsy mitts, she works me over. She hoses me off, which makes me feel even more like a salmon. It’s extremely relaxing. From deep in my scalp to between my toes, she washes me twice.

Read the full story here: She washes me twice!



Tags:



No comments: