Баняяяя

Remember that earlier post about nudity? Well, turns out I practiced getting naked just in time; a couple of days later, I woke up to my roommates, Elise and Grace, informing me that today was Banya Day.

Here is what my guidebook has to say about the banya: "Nothing beats St. Petersburg winter like the banya. Less hot but more humid than a sauna, the Russian bath sweats out all impurity, cleansing body and soul." And sweat we did...

Armed with towels and soap, the three of us made our way to a banya recommended by a guy in the group. We'd heard that banya women were not welcoming but found otherwise: everyone was very helpful in showing us what to do and where to do it.

We betrayed our banya-virginity by glancing self-consciously around before stripping completely down, shielded only by our miniscule towels. Then we entered the banya itself, a large sauna-like room with different levels (the higher you go, the hotter it gets). We had been given a birch branch to beat each other with (see below) and got a special demonstration from a helpful banya-goer inside.



(Actual birch branch used for beating)

When it got too hot to bear, we rushed out and jumped in the curtainless showers, all modesty forgotten. We repeated twice more and left, feeling "beautifully brilliant," albeit a little thirsty from the gallons we had sweated out inside.

On Nudity and Footwear

Compared to other Americans in my age group, I am not particularly modest: males and females alike have been subject to my spontaneously stripping down to a bra and underwear. However, compared to older American women, and especially Russian women of all ages, I am positively prude.

I don’t shower at the gym and therefore have no reason to change out of my shorts and tshirt, but most women there do. And then they hang out, naked, and talk/put on makeup/check themselves out (and who can really blame them? These chicks are hot). But I’ve remained fully clothed. However, with the impending banya visit in mind (more about that later), I’ve been slowly building up to full-on nudity. Last week, I spent an eternal 30 seconds topless; yesterday, I kept my bra on but was naked waist-down.

But today, after a particularly brutal workout, I knew it was time to take advantage of the sauna. Meaning that this was it — the moment we’ve all been waiting for — time to Go Big or Go Gnome.

Fixing my eyes on the locker in front of me, I took off first my top, then my bottoms. There! Naked. I looked around to see if anyone had noticed this incredible feat. No one seemed particularly concerned. Turns out being naked in a women’s locker room is something like going to the gyno: you know you’re naked; she knows you’re naked; yet you both carry on as normal. Interesting.

What they did notice, however, is that I had no sandals. Russians tend to be a bit…anal about their footwear. Shoes can’t touch anything you’d sit on; if anyone elbows you at a club, nothing, but step on your foot and you’re in for five minutes of apologies. At the gym, women put an enormous amount of energy into balancing on one foot on top of a sandal (god forbid their foot touches the unclean floor — not that there’s anything to muddy it, as even the most pompous of businessmen put on special boot covers before entering the building [see right*]).

*Interestingly, while searching Google images for this photo, I stumbled across a website that sells, among other things, beard covers and body bags.