the Russian banya

Perhaps it seems strange to you that the only things I seem to post about are Americanish things, just in a different place. School, eating, shopping, getting sick… all of those I could do very easily in any geographical place.

Want to know something I could not do in just any geographical place?

Sit in a 110° C room while somebody pours cold water over unbearably hot rocks and somebody else hits my back with a wet, leafy tree branch, thus spraying boiling water on everyone else in the vicinity.

Obviously.

Every Wednesday, we go on an excursion to somewhere in/around St. Petersburg instead of going to classes. This Wednesday we went to a banya, which is kind of like the sadistic combination of the Finnish sauna and the Turkish bath. While in the first it is very hot and dry, and in the second it is very wet but just warm, in the Russian iteration it is very hot and very wet.

I know what you’re wondering: yes, my hair looked awful afterwards. Просто кошмар.

This semester, our group is too small for luxuries like splitting up guys and girls. So, in various states of dress ranging from I-forgot-my-bathing-suit-so-I’ll-wear-undies-and-just-wrap-this-sheet-around-me to I-forgot-my-bathing-suit-so-I’ll-wear-shorts-and-a-tank-top (and, of course, a few actual bathing suits), the nine students + RD + RD’s assistant sat in a room together and sweated. Then we left and jumped into a pool that I think had ice floating on top. Then we went back into the other room and sweated some more, and this time some students requested to be beaten with the vennik, or “broom” (wet, leafy tree branch). Rinse. Repeat.

We also spent some time in a more neutral room in between rounds, partaking of the secondary historical function of a banya (after self-torture): socializing. Some people drank beer, some people drank water, we all shared the 50-cent loaf of bread I brought, we played cards, we chatted… it was great.

And then we decided it would be fun to start sweating again (why). I don’t know if I’ve ever been so hot in my life, including the summer I lived on the fourth floor of an unairconditioned dorm during the Subsaharan Vortex (am I allowed to make that up? hope so).

And then we went back out into the Russian winter and tried not to catch pneumonia from our quickly changing body temperatures. Nobody's died yet.