Karri has explained to us its significance in some detail, that it's an integral part of Finnish life, essential to one's well-being, but not about the mind. At one point tonight, Henriikka said he was making it sound too mystical, but Karri said that it is, that a good sauna experience takes you to another place in time.
Since Geof and I had been wanting to try it, we were also interested in the practical reality: How do you build the wood fire without burning the sauna down? How do you know if someone is already in there? When do you actually get naked? (You do get naked, right?) and so on. After telling us that there are no rules about sauna, only unwritten ones, Karri kindly told us the rules about sauna.
He built the fire for us in the stove, then had Geof add wood periodically. He showed us how to check to see if the fire was hot enough by dribbling water on the stones. He told us where to leave our clothes. He showed us where the key was. He told us how to occasionally leave and go outside to cool off. Olli-Pekka made us a vihta, or birch whisk, and Karri explained how it stimulates circulation when you soften it in hot water and then use it to swat yourself. He said to shower before and after (and in between, perhaps), and to sit on towels. He told us to add a couple logs to the fire when we were ready to leave to keep the fire going for the next group.
When he decided the fire was hot enough, he left us with these words, which he said were passed from the Finnish forefathers to their sons about sauna culture (loosely translated): "What happens in sauna, stays in sauna."
When he decided the fire was hot enough, he left us with these words, which he said were passed from the Finnish forefathers to their sons about sauna culture (loosely translated): "What happens in sauna, stays in sauna."
First, let me tell you that a real, wood-fire sauna experience is NOTHING like those electric hotel saunas where you set the timer and the thermostat. This heat was like being in Death Valley in July. Like stepping out of your air-conditioned car into the 127 degree heat of Needles, California. In July. Trust me. I know. This heat took my breath away.
And then we got a little used to it. We could relax against the back of the bench, occasionally and languidly rising to toss a little cold water onto the heated stones.
We probably spent no more than five or six minutes inside at a time before we had to go sit outside in the cool night air. Before sauna, I needed to wear my fleece jacket. During sauna, I could sit outside in a towel. We made several trips back in, and then outside again with cold showers in between. Finally, we decided to let others have a turn and headed back to our room.
In the kitchen, we ran into two members of Quo Vadis (and sauna experts, indeed), Otso and Marku, who wanted to know how our experience was. We were both still pink, I think, and I felt rather floaty in my limbs. Marku apparently has built many saunas, including one for Madonna. He allowed us to touch the hand that built the bench that Madonna saunas on, and we did.
It's been just over an hour that we ended our first real sauna experience, and I still feel floaty and relaxed. We will need to speak to Marku again before we leave Finland to find out when he's available to build our own sauna in Schenectady.
Sounds amazing! It reminds me of my experience in a volcanic pool in Iceland. After a while you could sit naked (well...almost) in the open air and watch snow flurries swirl around you.
ReplyDeleteHope you were kind to yourself with the vihta: hate to count a flagellant as my best friend.