Advertisement
Published: July 26th 2008
Edit Blog Post
Galina in front of her home
Here is the home the Vorontsov's built. Sveta and I stayed on the second floor.
Sveta's friend Zhenya Vorontsov invited us to the stay at her family's dacha yesterday. Her father, Alexander, received the dacha 20 years ago, and with his own hands he built the home, shed, and two bathhouses. His wife Galina transformed the small plot of land into a garden unlike any I have seen before. Beets, onions, tomatos, peppers, strawberries, rasberries, currents, cucumbers, carrots grow alongside roses, lilies, camomiles, and flowers I did not recognize. "Everything you see here you can eat," Sveta explained. At regular intervals, Zhenya has stopped by our apartment to deliver berries, carrots, or potatoes from the other family home in the village. As a result, Sveta and I do not buy produce.
Dachas in Russia are all the same size. The Soviet state distributed dachas reward to favored workers, and though some people are consolidating holdings, msot remain as they were in the old days. building the place, Alexander said, was not a problem. All one needed was "hands" and the proper tools. I would argue, that not all hands are created equal. I can pick berries jsut fine, but I can't build homes. Nor can I run a farm. The family buys meat and some
other products, but like many Russians, relies on their garden for most of things. Food prices and availability are uncertain, and a garden, or small farm in this case, can be crucial. Along with the construction, farming, and general hospitality, Alexander and Galina maintain fulltime jobs.
The berry picking, the three kabob dinner -- Galina makes sure you eat well -- along with the wine, beer, vodka -- all of it was great. But the bathhouse was what I was really interested in. My first introduction to Russian bathhouses came courtesy of Arnold Schwarzenegger in the 1980s film, "Red Heat." The movie opens with Schwarzenegger in bathouse where he finds and dispatches Russian mobsters. And he does all this while being totally naked. Basically, the bathhouse is like a steam room, wet unlike the dry sauna favoured by the Scandanvians. Whatever -- I was ready to test the Vorontsov bathhouse.
So, as dinner was winding down, Sveta asked me, "do you you know who you're going to the bathhouse with?"
"You, I guess; right?"
"OK."
But that was not true at all. Sveta, drunk on wine and berries, had already agreed to go first with
Tomato
Here is Sveta in the other hot house Zhenya and Galina. This left me and Alexander. So, while the women went first, Alexander and I sat outside, fought off the mosquitos, and tried, mostly failing, to communicate in broken Russian. Eventually, the women emerged, steaming. Before heading back to the house for tea, Sveta told me that the 30 minutes or so in the bathhouse had sobered her up. Alexander and I walked into the antechamber. But he had forgotten his towel, so he left to retrieve it and indicated that instead of waiting, I should enter the bathhouse proper. I disrobed, went in, and sat on the lower bench.
Then I wondered whether I was actually supposed to be totally naked. Hadn't Alexander gone back for his towel? Wouldn't I look ridiculous if Alexander came in, wearing a towel, and here I was sitting on a bench totally naked? It was in these anxious moments that I began to notice the heat. At first it was pleasant, then bearable, but it had, and rather quickly, become overwhelming. At last, Alexander returned. Thankfully, he was totally naked.
Alexander took a ladle from one of the big pots of water and drenched the top shelf. I had
Flowers
Some of the many flowers taken a seat on the lower shelf. Alexander pointed at me shook his head, and motined to the upper bench. The air was still hotter higher up, and I struggled to breath. Alexander wetted some more of the bench before taking his place beside me. He explained some things to me, and I nodded wearily -- I think he was trying to tell me how to breathe, but I'm not sure. So there we sat, hunched over, hands on our knees, breeathing slowly, deeply, methodically.
This went on for awhile, occasionally Alexander would become animated try tell me something, which I couldn't understand. I did understand when he motioned toward the door -- "Da!" I wanted out. So we returned to the antechamber and drank water. In few minutes, we were cooled down and ready to go back.
I immediately hopped up on the top shelf, which was sort of like hopping onto a frying pan. Alexander shook his head and laddled more water onto bench. We had only sat for a few moments before Alexander became animated again. He held up a bunch of twigs, tied together like a fasci, with leaves on the end. He began
View from above
The bathhouses (there are two) and green house can be seen from the second floor beating himself about the chest and shoulders. He indicated that I should follow his lead, so I took one of the many such devices and began to gently hit myself. This would not do at all, and Alexander indicated that my strokes should be stronger, more forceful. So I gave myself a vigourous thrashing. Perhaps I was a bit too enthusiastic, as the next morning red spots and broken bloodvessels could be seen on my chest.
So we began a pattern -- self flaggelation bracketed by breaks in the antechamber. The heat was relaxing, but the twig-work invogorating. After one of the breaks, Alexander broke the routine. He wanted me to do something on the bench. At first I thought he wanted me to lie on my back, but that was not right at all. He tried to mime what he wanted by placing his hands on the top shelf and leaned forward. I did the same. Again wrong, I finally figured it out and lay face down on the bench. Alexander then took the bundled twigs and leaves and delivered a magnificent lashing.
At last, we decided to go out for good. Whatever sweat or dead skin
Dacha grounds
Zhenya is in the background had been in me, was gone. I don't know if I was sobered up, as Sveta claimed, but I was exhausted.
Everyone, minus Galina who had gone to bed, gathered in the kitchen for tea and wine. Alexander explained that what I experienced was but an acquaintance with the bathhouse. The full experience would have lasted much longer and been under much higher heat. When you have no running water, a trip to the bathhouse was how one stayed clean.
I was overwhelmed by my bathhouse experience, and look forward to repeating it soon. They say you need a good heart to do it in the winter, as the change from hot to cold can really knock you for a loop, but I think I can handle it.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.102s; Tpl: 0.012s; cc: 8; qc: 66; dbt: 0.0701s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb