The Oaxacan Temazcal (ritual sauna)

One of Justin’s many astute observations about me is that I never open myself up to being uncomfortable, not even for a short amount of time.

I mean, I guess most people don’t enjoy being made to feel uncomfortable, but I avoid it at all costs.  I hate hiking. Sometimes I prefer to travel alone because I don’t like to be subjected to other people’s timeline on waking up, eating, shopping. If I’m at a party, most of the time I hit a point where I’ve had enough and I just want to get out of there.  I usually bring my car so that I can GTFO whenever it is convenient for me, and me alone.

I had an amazing massage at Native Spa in Oaxaca, and when I was done, Carlos said that this weekend he was taking a couple to do a native Temazcal and that if I wanted, I could go. He briefly explained to me that we would take a shared taxi there together and that it wouldn’t cost too much, and it is a ritual sauna cleansing.  I said sure, what else am I doing?  

I asked no questions.  

Carlos drove me, his partner Lucy, and Moises and Antonio, a couple from California, and me about 45 minutes to the town of Mazatlan.  On the way, we stopped on the side of the road to get a Tepache (a mildly fermented drink made of pineapple peel) and some jicama (which I don’t like at all.)  I wanted the tepache, but I don’t like trying new things or really even eating anything  in Mexico if I am going to be far from home in case I get sick, and I didn’t know how long this adventure would last.

The temezcal is a bit up the mountain and the view is magnificent.  Good thing, too, because one of the many things I didn’t know was that Moises and Antonio booked a massage first.  It was an open air massage, so I took pics (upon request) and snuggled with the many friendly cats that were hanging out. I also made it my job to keep removing one attention-seeking black and white kitten from fucking with Moises while he was getting massaged.  Carlos is wonderful.  I would say he’s in his early 30’s and has such a calm and lovely voice that just being around him while he gave a massage was almost as relaxing as getting the massage itself.

Moises brought some Pulque, a traditional, mildly alcoholic beverage made from fermented agave.  A couple of years ago, I went to Mexico city with my work buddies Marissa and Lauren, and Lauren’s ex.  We had ordered two pitchers of pulque, and it smelled SO BAD, like very pungent semen.  Lauren and I couldn’t do it.  Marissa took one sip and couldn’t do any more than that.  Lauren’s ex is the kind of person who CANNOT let food go to waste, and he made it his business to finish every last putrid, viscous drop… much to the delighted horror of the rest of us.

Moises promised me that the viscosity and flavor is different depending on the plant (insert obvious ejaculate analogy here) and Carlos said it’s traditional to have pulque before the ceremony.  It was in fact delicious, like a less-burny kombucha.

We left Oaxaca city at 3, and the ceremony didn’t start until after sundown.  This is where I start thinking that I should have eaten something more substantial than a salad and some guac for lunch.  

Like I said, I didn’t ask any questions.

The ceremony starts with all of us, another group of 4 Mexicans on vacation, the older lady (who everyone called abuela) and her granddaughter who run the temazcal around a circle made of flowers and herbs, some crystals, a painted conch shell.  Carlos speaks for some time, having us turn to the north, south, east, and west, and give thanks to the ancestors and the earth for, well, everything. Even though Carlos is young, he is very good at this. I didn’t once want to roll my eyes like I did every time I tried yoga and some young blond in a ponytail would try to get me to connect to my inner self and shit.

Abuela comes to me, tells me to close my eyes and spread my arms wide and she blesses me by patting me down with a bouquet of local herbs and allowing a plume of copal (tree sap) smoke to wash over me.  And under my skirt.  I knew this would include some kind of vaginal steaming.  I was half right. Vaginal smoking.

We are one by one brought into the Temazcal, which is a round brick (?) sauna.  We sit in a circle, there are some tea lights next to us.  One guy brings in some large rocks that have been sitting in the fire.  This is how the sauna heats up.

We are asked to go around the circle and introduce ourselves and why we’re at a temazcal.  When it came to my turn, I squeezed out some very poorly constructed spanish sentences about how I’ve never been a spiritual person in my whole life, but I am trying, and that it is just a true honor to be there.  My spanish is generally good, and when I am made to speak it for a while it’s excellent, but I was nervous as hell about what I was about to subject myself to.  They all welcomed me warmly and said “A’ho,” which is like “I hear you,” or “amen.”

This is where I say that I am not good in the heat.  I suffer from somewhat low blood pressure, and am prone to getting dizzy and lightheaded in the heat, when I take a hot bath, even when the shower is too hot.  I also dehydrate pretty quickly.

And I’m claustrophobic.  

Therefore, none of this is a great idea, in my opinion.  

I didn’t know how long we were going to be in there.

I didn’t know how hot it was going to get.

I didn’t know that an essential part of this process is ridding yourself of your bad and angry thoughts, your sickness both mental and physical, by coughing, yelling, sometimes spitting on the ground.

DURING COVID.

So here I am, in a completely closed space, in the darkness, with unmasked strangers who are singing, chanting, coughing, spitting.  

This was a TERRIBLE idea.

I wore my K95 mask the entire time.  In a SAUNA.  I was the only one.

Carlos and the granddaughter spoke and sang the entire time.  I have to say, it was very comforting.  I can’t recall exactly what was said, or what was sung, because it was a lot.  I guess standard spiritual stuff, reconnect with yourself, let your bad shit go, you are a god/dess, you are a warrior. 

I think this is where people start getting very emotional, between the heat and the spiritual positivity.

To repeat, I am NOT a spiritual person.  The good news, is that I tried to think of all of the things I needed to let go, and I realized I don’t have ANYTHING to let go. I have no anger, no stress, no tension, nothing to worry about in my job.  When I left New York, a number of people said something to me like “I hope you find what you’re looking for,” as if this trip was going to be some kind of “eat, pray, love” adventure for me.  It was not a spiritual journey, it was a very physical one. I hated being in New York during a pandemic, I hated working.  And after 2 months of not being in New York, and not working, I am feeling truly great. I really don’t have a worry in the world right now. 

Despite the fact that the singing, the chanting, the drumming, and the uplifting positivity didn’t affect me spiritually at all, I was happy for the distraction.  It was hot in there.  We batted ourselves with herb bouquets.  I smelled great, and felt like an herby soup after a short amount of time.  I am not a “live in the moment” kind of person.  This sauna was uncomfortable.  I have no idea how long we were in there but I was drenched.  We were offered water and tea at random intervals to re-hydrate but I didn’t want to get sick from the water.  Took the tea, figuring it was boiled at some point.  It was lukewarm.  I’m concerned about the water, I’m concerned about COVID, although my COVID concerns were not enough to make me insult or offend this Zapotec abuela and her home and traditions.  I told myself not to be a pussy and just remember that I could still breathe, that I am still wearing a mask.  What is the efficacy of a K95 that was been steamed?  Probably low, but what am I going to do at this point?  Hopefully it’s hot enough in there to kill whatever COVID is among us.  

I’m guessing we were in there over an hour before Carlos said we were going to open the door to let out all of the bad energy we expelled from our lungs and body.  Oh my god, I did it.  I made it, I thought.  He opens the door and the sauna cools down quickly from the fresh, chilly mountain air.  I am thrilled.  Thrilled I made it.  Thrilled it was over.  I was hot as fuck, dizzy, and hungry.

And then Carlos says “OK, this second stage is probably going to be difficult for many of you.”

It was like a cosmic practical joke.

I considered turning to the people next to me and saying “Is anyone else thinking that he’s kidding?” There’s very few situations where I think a joke isn’t warranted, but I didn’t say anything.  I could not believe there was more.

Guillermo, one of the people there not inside the temazcal, shovels new rocks into the pit in the center of the temazcal. These rocks are glowing red from the heat.  Carlos closes the door, puts a blanket on the door to further block the light.  The candles have long burned out, it is now pitch black.  It re-heats VERY quickly.  The chanting, the singing, the yelping, the drumming, is louder and more intense.  

I’m now in tears.  My mask is DRENCHED and every breath I take is like I am waterboarding myself with my own sweat.  I want OUT.  I CANNOT do this anymore.

I wait for the chanting to pause, and Carlos asks if anyone needs water.  I say “I’m sorry, I REALLY don’t feel well,” and Carlos and Guillermo quickly escort my completely weak and drenched body out of the temazcal.  I can barely walk.  I tear off my mask.  Fuck COVID, I don’t care anymore.

Guillermo wraps my arm around him and he brings me to a room with blankets on the floor.  He sits me on the blanket in lotus pose and from behind, wraps his arm around my stomach and with a very calm and soothing voice asks me if he can tap me on my spine, as it will help get my heart back to a normal heartbeat, and that I can rest on him if I need to.  Yeah, Guillermo, do whatever you have to do, man.  I’m just happy to be out of there.  

Guillermo taps me gently up and down on my spine, explaining what he is doing and going to do next, which included having me do some standing and seated breathing exercises. “Cindy, do you have low blood pressure?”  Yes.  “Cindy do you have asthma?” Yes.  Ah, ok, I just need to get more used to temazcales, this is perfectly normal, he assures me.  After the breathing exercises, he has me lie down in fetal position and he covers me with blankets so I can rest and regain my consciousness.  But after, it’s very important that he rinses me off with cold water to close my pores but he needed to wait until I felt better.

Whatever, Guillermo, I was just happy to lie down and be out of that sauna.

The cold water rinsing was also not pleasant.  I guess if you do it right out of the sauna it feels great, but I had already cooled off under the blanket.  Whatever, it was the least of my issues at that point.

I asked everyone’s forgiveness and said I hoped I didn’t ruin it for anyone.  Lucy told me she’s done a temazcal many times and she left soon after I did.  It was too much for her.  She said “he doesn’t usually do a second stage.”    Either way, she assured me, we were victorious.

I was given some cold atole made of toasted corn to drink, and a bowl of hot vegetable soup.  Vegetable soup never tasted so good.  About a half hour later, the rest of the group emerged.  Moises told me that it was really rough at the end, and he’s done temazcales before.  Carlos came out and Guillermo said, “I put A LOT of rocks in there!”  Evidently this one was a real doozy for everyone.  

Guillermo made tlayudas (giant empanadas) one and a half times the size of my head for everyone and Lucy and I destroyed ours.  She forgot to eat lunch entirely.  By the time I got back to the apartment, it was midnight.

I have to say that it was an overall positive experience.  It truly was an honor to be able to partake in a ritual that is old as hell, in the place where it originated. Very special.  Carlos is just wonderful at what he does, and the location was very beautiful.  Pretty sure I would NEVER do that again, but I would recommend it very highly, as you are going to be well taken care of no matter how you react.

I am hoping the ancestors are with me as I was told, protecting me from harm and COVID from being in an incubator with strangers during a pandemic.