Skip to main content

Becoming Finnish


I have spent the past six months passionately insisting that I will never join in on the uniquely Finnish experience of ice sauna-ing. Ice sauna-ing is a made up word for one of Finnish people’s favorite past times: going to a sauna and then jumping into a freezing lake.

My friend is extremely persuasive and after six months of describing her own sauna-ing adventures managed to get me to agree to join her and her husband at a public sauna near a river. The sauna itself is a small wooden building attached to locker rooms and a common area where you can sit and eat after you are done.

The first thing that catches your attention is the bridge going out above the water. Around the bridge the water is freely moving but farther out you can see it is frozen over and covered in snow. At the end of the bridge there are six sets of stairs leading into the water. What arrests the eye though is the people walking out onto the bridge wearing swimsuits and confidently walking straight into the icy depths to swim back to shore. The contrast between the setting and the people’s clothing is jarring.

Realizing I would have to eventually be one of those people, I began protesting the moment I saw what I had got myself into. How could I, who professes to be comfortable in 30 degrees Celsius without air-conditioning, sit outside in a swimsuit in sub-zero weather, much less go in the water?

It turns out that sub-zero feels wonderful after a sauna.  

After getting changed and taking a shower, which is a rule before you can go into a public sauna, we stepped into the sauna. Saunas typically have three levels you can sit on, with the top being the hottest and the bottom the coolest. Except for two other women, everyone was on the top level. The sight of so many people, young and old, sweating and chatting away in their bathing suits was amusing, especially when contrasted to the quiet reserve of Finns everywhere else.

I took my seat on the bottom. At the top your skin feels like it’s burning and the stickiness becomes unbearable. But apparently, Finns would not agree with me.

The heat eventually became too much and the only option was to go outside. It felt surprisingly pleasant, like a warm spring day. I stood looking out at the water and marveled at a new connection I was forming with my natural surroundings. The cold weather, once my enemy, was now a respite from the heat of the sauna.

Walking in. Picture by Galen Reed
When you go ice sauna-ing, it is normal to take several trips back and forth between the sauna and the water. I started by only being able to put my ankles in before having to snatch my foot away from the icy clutches and run back into the warmth of the sauna. The water left my foot tingling as I ran.

Eventually I could make it as deep as my chest. Getting into and staying in the water did not get any easier but I did start to get used to the tingling sensation that came after I got out. By the end, I could start to see how a man I met while standing outside the sauna would find it so appealing that he had been going three times a week for the past 14 years.

Cultural experiences can reveal quite a bit about the people. Seeing Finns swimming in freezing water reminded me of their stoicism. Everything was clean and systematic, with there even being a tub of water on the end of the bridge so people climbing out of the water could clean their feet before coming back. The tub indicated to me how deeply entrenched the experience of ice sauna-ing is for Finns.

And though I may not be Finnish,  I think I will be back.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Working Identities

The halls of a TC building where I must be a doctoral student It’s been a while since my last post. To be honest, I haven’t done much besides school work, to the point that the I no longer know what to tell people when they ask me what my hobbies are. Which also means I feel a constant looming pressure of knowing I live in a big city with a reputation for never sleeping yet I spend my weekends holed up in my room or in the library (and the occasional coffee shop). This is not to say that I spend all of my time doing doctoral work. I have found two outlets in the form of jobs that have enriched this semester in ways that I didn’t expect. One is at a preschool, the other is working at the Graduate Writing Center consulting students working on academic writing projects. After not working for two years, I had forgotten what it feels like to be part of something that allows for change that you can actually see. Teaching is always rewarding as you watch children grow and marvel...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Waltz

At a Finnish wedding, the tradition is for the newlyweds to dance to a wedding waltz during their reception. It doesn’t matter what kind of wedding it is, the waltz is an essential part of the program. I hate the waltz. Compared to the Latin dances that I have been learning, the waltz is too stately and prudish to be of much fun. So I have jokingly told my boyfriend that at our wedding we will not be dancing the waltz. In part this is to gauge his response to my presumption that we are getting married (a bit sneaky, I know). In part it is also to make sure he knows that I am most definitely not Finnish (though I tell him that I am 50% Finnish, 50% Indian and 40% American). When I last told him there would be no waltz at our wedding, my boyfriend didn’t flinch at this challenge, to his immense credit. He just laughed. At which point I realized I didn’t even know how to waltz, which only made him laugh even more. Somehow, after this exchange, he decided to put on some wa...
Post a Comment
Read more

Spot of Tea

I didn’t like tea for most of my life. Mami, my aunt, very strongly discouraged us from drinking tea, telling us “gitte reh jaoge (you will remain short)” any time we voiced a desire to have some. This was said so many times that we regarded it as a cold, hard fact. Unfortunately for Mami, seeing her only once every two years meant that we grew older rather quickly between visits and she didn’t have many opportunities to continue telling us this piece of wisdom before our heights were pretty much set in stone and could no longer be threatened by a cup of hot chai. For Western children, they outgrew Santa Clause. We outgrew Mami’s alarmism. My parents drinking their afternoon cup. But Mami’s efforts did not go in vain. Having never drank tea habitually as children, we didn’t feel any affinity to it as young adults. I was accustomed to seeing my parents’ elaborate morning ritual of going for a walk, making tea, and drinking tea while reading the paper. Every aspect of the ...
Post a Comment
Read more