Naked+honey+coffee grinds=An authentic Russian treat

I met Eli on the Sokol stop Saturday morning as we had planned. It was then off to meet up with the others at the circle line. When we approached Brian, Matt, and Scott, I noticed a girl standing with them I hadn't met. She had decided to come along!

We exchanged names and greetings, and I said, "We are about to get to know each other really well." We all laughed and took off to find the spot. We were off to the banya!!

When we got there, we realized it was a little more expensive than we had planned on. I read the prices and procedures as written in Russian and explained it in English. "The men's experience is about 500 rubles more expensive than women's," I told them. "Probably because they have cameras in ours, and that's our cut of the profit." Kensie's eyes got really big. "Oh, I'm totally kidding. Sorry, I probably shouldn't do that when I'm reading the official list!"

Kensie and I consider ourselves lucky to pay the lower amount. The higher price for men, however, seems to worry a couple of the guys. Our group narrows to four courageous Americans, out for an authentic Russian experience.

I have to pause here, and tell you my pre-banya impressions: Some kind of a sauna, public-shower-type setting, something about getting hit with branches, and a whole lot of naked. Eli had mentioned that the American family he is staying with had said they go every week, and the mom loves using honey. Hmmm, not sure what to think of that--this only gets weirder. Perfect.

So we stepped up, paid the admission price, bought a branch (boys opted for pine boughs, I don't even know what ours was, but it had lots of leaves), and headed off to our respective changing rooms.

Kensie and I were completely lost as to what we were supposed to do. "I hope you don't mind, I'm only going in with my towel, I'm not wearing a swimming suit," Kensie said. "Oh, that's absolutely what I'm doing." So we stripped down and threw our towels around us, still unsure of where to go next.

Finally, from the next booth, a woman asks if we can help her. Then she takes a closer look and thinks we don't understand because we're American. I explain in Russian that I understand Russian, I just don't know what to do because I've never been before. This was deemed acceptable, and she hauled us off to the banya, with me thinking the whole way, I have no idea what she is going to ask me to do. There is a high possibility that I am going to be hitting this naked old woman with branches in a matter of minutes. Honey comes to mind. I wonder if I'm going to have to rub anything on her.

She mentions something about the floor. She has me fill a bucket, and hands Kensie a mop. Well, this is bizarre, I think. I just paid 700 rubles to mop a floor? What did I just agree to? She starts throwing water around the room, and sends Kensie up with the mop. She is holding her towel securely around her and trying to mop with the other hand. I am sent off for two more tubs of water.

I bring them back and see Kensie mopping the floor, the towel forgotten, carelessly draped over her shoulder. "I give up. Don't judge me." When in Rome, I think, and say, "No worries, that's how this is going to end up anyway." Little did I know that I would be doing something much more embarassing (if any of us had any inhibitions left at this point) in a matter of minutes.

"Have this one help you," the old woman says to another woman. I go up the wooden steps into the sauna, definitely naked (if you don't count the flip flops). The other woman is also naked, and is spreading out a sheet. "Here, take the other end." I grab the two corners and we start waving it up and down, throwing hot, thick air around the room. Up and down, up and down. I'm naked, and I'm doing squats with another naked woman, waving a sheet around. I can feel Kensie looking on behind us, wondering what is going on. She comments on it later, laughing. It's okay, though, because next go around she is right up there taking my place.

So the banya has been washed out, and the air circulated. We rinse ourselves off in warm water in the shower and head in. At this point, everyone is kind of freaking out that we don't have hats on, or something to cover our hair (Eli later tells me someone said they wear hats so their hair doesn't catch on fire--yikes!). I opt to grab my swimsuit top, and fashion it onto my head using the straps of my halter top. It covers most of my hair, which is pulled up in a bun.

Apparently, the hat was not all we were missing, everyone had a towel to lay on (as did we), but they also had a sheet to cover themselves with (we had none). So they place us as close to the door as possible, so we can make a quick escape when the time comes. We are told that when we leave, we need to crouch down--it seems very important that we do NOT stand all the way up. A conversation ensues about laying face-up, but it is eventually decided that it would be better for us to lay on our stomaches.

We lay down, a woman puts a couple of drops of what I think is peppermint oil into a bucket of water and starts flinging it around the room. The light drops of cool water feel great compared to the stifling heat of the sauna. I settle into the moment, and begin to relax, enjoying the warmth as it envelops me.

The same woman ascends the stairs with a towel and starts slinging it above her head like a lasso. Waves of heat hit my body. The sauna feels as if it is getting hotter and hotter. How long do I stay? They seem concerned that I don't have a sheet covering me. What if that's bad, what if it gets to hot for me? The thoughts race through my head as I lay there, waiting for some kind of a hint as to what I am supposed to do next. The six or so women who are in with me had been helpful so far, so I awaited their word. The air became thicker and heavier, I was very aware of the heat on my calves. It felt as though they would catch on fire. It reminded me of standing too close to a bonfire for too long. I have to get out of here. My flesh is literally going to be burning, I thought. I could tell Kensie was stirring beside me. My throat was choking on the hot air. I traded off breathing through my nose and my mouth, feeling the hot air burn both air cavities.

Finally, Kensie and I stand up, duck low, and start our way down the steps. They said stay low. I struggle for my flip flops. I fumble, but can't get them on. Oh my gosh, I'm not going to be able to get out in time, come on, Kim--put them on! My eyes are burning. I'm standing too tall! I try to duck lower. My foot finally slides in, and I hustle to get my burning face out the door.

"Ah, that was so hot!" Kensie and I stand panting, our nakedness long forgotten. The other women soon follow. The oldest, whom we had helped to clean the floor, was pouring buckets of cold water on her self. We ask if we should do the same, and she has Kensie come squat down in front of her. A bucket of ice cold water is thrown over her head. I stand by, watching in disbelief. The babushka grabs another tub of cold water and splashes it in Kensie's face and down the front of her. I feel cold droplets hit my skin. I am so not ready for this. But I crouch down in front of the babushka, and cold water cascades down over me. Icy, but surprisingly pleasant. She then tosses another bucket of water in my face and on my chest. I am soaking wet, but enjoying the cold after the sensation of burning.

We enter back into the sauna, which has been aired out by opening a small door that covers a window in the bricks, leading to the street. I can see grass and another building. Do people wander along here? I wonder. Will I see someone pass, taking a glance into the women's sauna? No, this seems isolated.

A woman has Kensie lay down, takes our stick, and starts patting it over her back and down her legs, and to the bottom or her feet. She then had me continue it. Then Kensie did the same for me. I have decided we did not get the authentic beating that should have taken place (especially after hearing the guys experience and seeing Eli’s legs, which still show the lacerations inflicted by their much harsher experience), and will be returning to do it right. But back to the current story…

We are hanging out for a while, waiting for the next round, and I see a college-aged girl smearing something dark all over her. The smell of chocolate fills the air. The girl's name is Nadya. She offers me some of the dark stuff for my face, saying it is good for your skin. Is it a mask? I ask. She tells me it is a high-quality chocolate, drinkable, or perhaps edible. I put it on my face. As some of it touches my lips, I am completely sure that it is chocolate, and not simply a mask that is chocolate-scented. She offers it to the other women to try, and as the babushka slathers her face, she says, "I'm Barak Obama." Unexpected. I had no reply.

When the sauna has been prepared, we go in for another round. It is much like the first, with the exception that this time a woman takes an extra towel and gives it to Kensie to cover her hair. A sheet is also laid over the both of us as we lay side-by-side. "I can't stand to look at them," one said, obviously concerned as to what would happen if we didn't follow proper banya procedure exactly.

I still have chocolate on my face at this point, and as the room gets hotter, I think, How hot is it in here? This is almost unbarable! Then another thought takes over, What if the chocolate starts to boil? Of course it didn't, and I let myself relax into the heat of the room. The burning sensation on my skin is held at bay by the thin sheet that covers my body. Again, hot air enters my nostrils and engulfs my throat. I am determined to stay until someone else leaves. As Kensie stirs, she and I look at each other. This time there are about 12-15 women in with us, and we are at the back of the sauna. We lay silent for a few more minutes, then get up to leave. I follow her out, and we take turns covering each other with buckets of cold water. Kensie ventured into the cold pool that stood outside. I follow her into the coldest water I have ever entered. This must be where all of the snow melt is funneled. It is freezing. As I submerge myself to my neck, and stick my shoulders and arms under the water, I feel as if needles are pricking the skin on my arm. Even the slightest movement sends them coursing through me. I raise my arms, some things are just too much.

I crawl out, and get ready to take my shower and wash my hair. I have just stepped out of the shower (curtainless, of course--by now, what's the point?), and a woman (Ludmila), explains that she is rubbing honey on herself. She asks if I would like to try some, and I start slathering my arms. "Take more," she tells me. She then shows me a bucket of coffee mixed with corn meal. "Cover yourself in honey, then take this and rub on top. Go ahead--try it." She walks back to the shower, leaving me to rub these on myself in the middle of the large, open room. She watches on to ensure I am doing it right. "More," she says. I take a little more, not wanting to deplete her entire supply. Finally, she comes over, takes a huge handful and starts scrubbing my arms with it. I feel the grinds dig into my skin. "This works well for a massage, as well." I start using more, and she says, "yes, that's better. Use the rest of the honey and throw it away, I can buy more. And the coffee is not expensive. Use all you want." So kind of her, and I am excited for the new experience. She says, "Here, let me get your back," and rubs coffee and corn flour into my back. I made sure to cover my arms, stomach, and legs with it. I can honestly say that was the best scrub I have ever used in my life. My skin has never been so smooth!!

Though we had not planned on it, and were out of time (two hours is allotted), we jumped back in the sauna one last time. The attendant told us, "The boys are waiting for you." We made it quick, laid in the heat, then went and dressed.

We met them out front. "I love the banya! Is that the best thing you've ever done?!" I exclaim, with a big grin. The boys looked less than convinced that this was the best thing they had ever done. The looks they gave me told me they were not sure what to think of the banya experience…