Saturday, October 10, 2009

Taking Steam

The muk'ee or steam bath is my favorite Yup'ik custom. This traditional way of bathing was suitable for a population whose water was locked up in ice for most of the year. The purpose of the muk'ee is to wash but it's also a unique occasion that is both social and personal. It's an experience that I am always so grateful to be a part of.

The first time I was invited to steam was in the fall a year ago. I remember being so honored and excited to be included in this ancient tradition that I could hardly collect my thoughts. With haste, I gathered my toiletries, water, a few small towels and a change of clothing and smashed all of it into my backpack. A moment later I jumped onto a rickety old bike and raced down to the village. I had imagined the whole ordeal taking about an hour to steam, dry off and return home, but four hours later I was peddling back, wearing my newly exposed infant-like skin, smiling in the breeze and feeling like a new woman.

My friend Naney told me that years ago, the village had one steam house made of mud. On steam nights, women and men (who bathe separately) would each bring a piece of wood to the muk'ee, which would continue for as long as the wood lasted. Today, many people have small, wooden steam houses. Husbands and sons use chainsaws and snowmobiles to collect the wood to burn, both welcome efficiencies. The tradition has also expanded to include amenities like Suave Shampoo, Dr. Bronner's soaps and pink luffas. Luckily the native tongue and ancient remedies are still universal in the steam house. (More on that below).

The traditional steam house is a small rectangular hut that has two rooms. The first room is a little changing area with a tiny door leading to cozy space on floor the next to the stove. There is enough room on the floor for two or three people at a time. After undressing, we each carry a basin inside the steam room to fill with water for washing. In the photograph above, you'll notice a long stick with an old vegetable can attached. Those are the dipping sticks used to fill the washing basins. They are also used for "splashing". Notice the stove is actually made of an old oil drum, most are.

Here's how the muk'ee ritual transpires:

Round 1: "Warm Up" or I guess I should say, quickly acclimate to the 250+ temperature. I've been mentored to designate a steaming hat, which is dipped in water for keeping cool. After about ten minutes, everyone exits and continues to chat and laugh. (I have also found that my Yup'ik language and vocabulary improve most during a good steam.)

Round 2: "Splash" We get inside and as Naney's pouring the boiling water over the hot rocks she'll always ask with a smirk, "Do you want to splash?" As though she's giving me the option -- and as if I'd turn it down. In an instant, water is vaporized into the air of this tiny space. I usually have to cover my face with my wash cloth to breathe. Sometimes I feel like I'm actually cooking. Despite that harsh description, the steam and the splash are both marvelous.

Round 3: Depending on how social the night is to be, we might have one more splash or we might move on to washing. I should also mention that when Naney splashes, she often uses the time-honored, cure all, chaithluk or stinkweed, which is thought to have anit-viral properties. She soaks the chaithluk in boiling water, then she pours it over the hot rocks so we can slowely breathe it in. Many natives also drink it as tea for curing ailments.

Round 4: "Wash" We bring in all our soaps and shampoos and lather up. I've never before felt a 'clean' like this.

Round 5: "Rinse" The Last round is the rinse, then we squidgy the floor, sit, chat, dry off and get dressed.

After a good steam I always sleep like a baby and wake up with a headache, vowing to drink more water the next time. Headache or not, there is simply nothing that compares to the very special ritual of the muk'ee.

3 comments:

Max said...

I'm glad to see that the Cetaphil round has a long history in traditional saunas/steams. The local version sounds amazing.

Max

Sarah said...

What a life, Lida! Love your blog!

molliver said...

Thanks for finally posting about this. It sounds wonderful. :)