Time, Tequila, and Temazcals

In October of 2009, two people perished in an Arizona sweat lodge. When a friend asked me to attend a similar ritual in Oaxaca, Mexico, I reluctantly agreed.

As we walked the streets of Oaxaca, I started to get anxious. My inner control freak peppered my friend with questions about how long, how hot, how uncomfortable. She explained that she really didn’t know and that one loses all concept of time.

We arrived at a modest house on an unremarkable street. Laurento, an older man with a kind face and a towel draped around his slight waist, greeted us. He served tea while he talked about the significance of the four elements used in the temazcal: earth, water, air and fire.

Initially we went through a cleansing. Laurento chose herb branches, and brushed these all around us. Next, he took a big sip of tequila and blew it at my neck, back, feet, and chest. We theorized that this represented the air and water elements. He finished by taking burning herbs and wafting puffs of smoke around us.

We crawled into the temazcal, a teeny square hut with a tiny opening. There was no head room so we had to sit or lie down. Darkness consumed us after Laurento covered the opening. It was ungodly hot. We began.

He poured water on the rocks, creating more steam. Sweat poured out. Momentarily, he used the branches as a fan, pushing hot air down. The heat was searing, I was engulfed in sweat, but …fine. He asked regularly, “Todo bien?” listening to the tone of our responses carefully, and at an unannounced point, doused us with cold water. The steam, fanning, heat, and cold water were repeated several times, but I just savored the moment until we were again brushed, albeit aggressively, with herb branches.

Upon exit, Laurento laid out fresh towels which we collapsed into, and covered us in blankets. He fell into a soft snore, and I rested, not concerned about time, and let go of my need to stay on schedule, not minding that I still smelled like tequila.