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MEDITERRANEAN BATHS

Visiting the modern Hammam in Ankara and lstanbul
Early Greek and Roman Batths
Mass Bathing in the Balnea and Thermae
The Islamic Hammam is Born
The "'Turkish Bath" Visits Europe and
America
Private Sweat Bathing Cubicles

FINNISH SAUNA

A Visit in the Dead of Winter
History of the Nordic Bath
Sauna in Europe
Sauna in Japan
Sauna in America

NATIVE AMERICAN SWEAT LODGE

Joining Running Foot in a Navajo Sweat
Lodge

A Guest at an Oglala Sun Dance Ceremony
History of Sweat Lodges
Hot Rock Sweat Lodge
Direct Fire Sweat Lodge
Sweating Without a Sweat Lodge
Origin of the Temescal
The Temescal Today
The Sweat Lodge Joins the Modern World

RUSSIAN BANIA

A Boisterous Bath in Leningrad
History of the Great Russian Bath
Bannik, the Spirit of the Bania
The Birth Bania
The Wedding Bania
The Death Bania
Health & the Bania

The Bania after the Russian Revolution
The Spreading Influence of the Russian Steam Bath

SAUNA & HEALTH

Sauna & Health
Sweating
Skin
Heating & Cooling the Inner Body
Positive Effects of Negative Ions
Spirits of the Sweat
Social Sweating

USING THE SAUNA/ SWEAT BATH

SAUNA/SWEAT SPICES

PRECAUTIONS

SPECIAL SAUNA CONCERNS FOR WOMEN

BUILD YOUR OWN

 

The Russian Bania

A Boisterous Bath in Lenningrad
(Now St. Petersburg*)

©1998 by Mikkel Aaland All Rights Reserved


We all know how man came into being.
Man was created when God took a bania and sweated profusely.
He dried himself off with straw and dropped the straw to earth where the Devil used the straw to create the body.
Then later, God gave man his soul.

-Russian sorcerer, 1071

 

Entrance to Bania 43 in Leningrad (St. Petersburg).
Photo by Mikkel Aaland. All rights reserved.



It happened to be Lenin's birthday that fine spring morning in Leningrad as I hiked the streets searching for Bania 43. The hotel manager had given me a note in Russian, directing me to the bania. I had simply to show the note to anyone on the street and they would point the way. But Russians on the street weren't eager to introduce a foreigner to their communal baths, which some consider a vestige of their peasant past. I handed the note to about 20 people who responded with gruff suspicion before I found Bania 43.

An old woman sat on the door sill selling venniks (bania switches). I pushed through double doors and found myself in a large hallway filled with barber shops and small kiosks. I moved with the crowd to the end where the sexes separated; women turned left and men fanned off to a staircase. Before I had climbed two steps the crowd had frozen in a long queue. My visa was too short to wait out that line so I brashly bounded up the stairs like a man with a mission. At the coat check counter I produced a handful of change from which the attendant plucked only 20 kopeks. Not a bad fee. I ducked into the dressing room hoping the long line of bathers behind me wouldn't recognize me with my clothes off.

I felt a tug at my shirt tail and heard a greeting in German. "Sind sie Deutsch'" (Are you German?) I turned to face an unusually thin Russian. Feeling it wiser not to be German or American in a Russian public bath, I told him I was Finnish. His eyes lit up and he motioned me to join him. We hung our clothes on adjoining hangers and put our valuables and shoes in doorless boxes. He produced a bottle of light beer. We swigged together, then I followed him through a washroom and to the door of the hot room.

He asked if I was ready. I wasn't sure. In Finnish baths a respectful Nordic calm governs bathing behavior, but here the bathers sounded like the rooting section of the Soviet basketball team during the closing seconds of their Olympic win over the Americans. Yells and screams exploded through the door. During a brief lull, I could hear men beating each another with venniks.

"Come in, it is good, da," my bania comrade said, giving me the first Russian smile I had seen that day. Before he could open the door, a cherry red eight-year-old scurried out of the room with steam billowing from his back. He was over to water basins on the far wall like a shot, and began dousing himself.

Through the thick air of the steam room, I could make out some twenty bathers whipping each other with birch whisks. Like a scene from the Inferno, winter-white bodies wove together like ghosts in the clouded air. The Russians seemed to be trying to outshout hissing water as it was poured on the heater. This heater was wide as a truck and reached three meters to the ceiling. Inside glowed a massive load of round rocks, resembling cannon balls. The concrete walls and floor were treacherously slick. If I were to describe Bania 43 to a Helsinki Finn, I would say it was a replica of Sauna 26 on Alikishinverkatu. To a Californian, I would say it was similar to Finnilias in San Francisco, or the Albany steam baths. New Yorkers would find the bath at St. Marks Square a good likeness.

My comrade yelled something in Russian and the room fell quiet--all eyes focused on me. I had the uneasy feeling he was telling them I was a Finn and should be shown some real sweat bathing. A couple of men at the top of the platform motioned for me to join them as my friend yelled for more steam to accompany my climb. A few hands helped me up. I sat down quickly, ducked my head between my knees and hoped the searing steam collecting at that altitude would soon pass. The Russians began laughing and stomping on the platform. I never expected such raucous exuberance from the stoney faces I had seen on the street.

Another treat--out came the birch switches. I tried to refuse, but an obliging Russian, perhaps not understanding, went to work on me. Wap! The birch slapped across my back and drove scalding steam deeper into my skin. I thought "ouch" was a universal word, but the Russian ignored my cries until I was sure I would have welts for a week.

I had considered myself a seasoned sweat bather, but this was too much. I escaped outside into the washing room. My bania comrade had instigated a friendly competition between Finland and the Soviet Union of which I wanted no part. If the Russians can endure more heat than I, it's no sweat off my back.

The washing room held about 50 bathers gathered around several washing benches. The steam was not as dense as it was in the steam room. Each bather had a steel bucket with soap and scrubbing material that looked like bunched-up wood shavings. Everyone was busy washing himself or the person next to him, while the inevitable Russian line formed in front of the few showers.

I grabbed a bucket, filled it with water and began scrubbing my red, steamy body. Soon the relaxing effects of the bania softened my first impressions of the Russians. Their camaraderie in the bania was a dramatic contrast to their stoicism in the streets. I washed and dressed quickly. I still had three more banias to visit that day.

*I visited Bania 43 in 1975, long before the fall of the Soviet Union, and before Leningrad was changed back to St. Petersburg. Does anyone out there know if Bania 43 is still standing????

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