Belarus is Awesome

It is hot. Like, serious freaking hot. My chest is on fire from the wood slates that I am lying down on while I’m trying to keep my balls from singeing like over cooked eggs on a frying pan. SMACK! This massive burly Russian guy, like that fellow from Rocky 1, beats my back with a shambock type arrangement of sea weed. He dips in back into the hot water and SMACK! What the hell have I gotten into here?

We were part of a trade delegation to Belarus along with a group of businessmen and investors. Before I get to the fun story I must tell you this little one first. We land in Minsk and the very upright and ridged security official sternly requests we empty our luggage for inspection. My Pops and I know how to travel into Eastern Europe so we have nothing but cotton fabric clothing and our three piece suits. This one African chap took out his colourful boxers shorts with the red hearts, a box of condoms and all sorts of other embarrassing apparel. The guard found a bottle of cough mixture. Borstal Citrus, the big 500ml bottle. “No take” he says and points at the dustbin nearby. This chap, with his powerful sense of ownership that we all have here in Africa, unscrewed the cap and smashed down the entire bottle of cough mixture. BOOM! Unbelievable. He gave a little wizzy stare and dunked the empty bottle in the bin. Classic.

Anyway, we spent a few days shaking hands and kissing babies and had the red carpet tour through some seriously impressive manufacturing yards and so forth. It all ended with a long-table dinner with all the dignitaries, businessmen and politician. I even got a picture with the Honourable Nkosazana Dlamini Zuma (Zuma’s second wife) whom I must say impressed me massively.

That was the formalities done with. The delegation left for RSA and my Pops and I stayed behind. We stayed to visit his friend…I s**t you not… his name is Dimitry. This massive tank destroyer of a man. He introduced us to Belarus in such a way that I honestly rate it is the best place on this planet to be a man. I’m not sexist but I do understand the attraction to a tall, slender blond woman who lives by her man’s word. She is devoted to him and the caring of his family. That’s it. That is her purpose that she respectfully accepts. That’s not really going to happen for me – anyone who knows my Wife will fully understand.

Anyways we hit a few great bars, we sang Dire Straits and drank a hell of a lot of vodka. The vodka there is amazing. Honestly you can drink it neat. We hardly touched a beer as we pummeled our way through litres and litres of vodka. On our stumble home I got to sit on Stalin’s horse statue, we prodded fun at the guards and were generally loud. Until Dimitry joined us and explained that we would be wearing concrete boots pretty soon if we carried on that way…respect.

We woke up the next morning with a banging headache and were summoned out of the hotel just after breakfast. It’s the big fella, entirely unperturbed by the drinking session and he wants to take us to a Sauna. We walked for a few blocks, down a side street and other side street which lead to an even smaller side street. Down into this tight little corridor which lead to a hobbit style door. Cold and wet outside he turned to us with this naughty grin and opens the door into this sort of lobby area. The ceiling is still quite low, the room is quite tight and on the right is this ancient old wrinkly lady sipping away on something that smelt like gluhwein. Dimitry paid her a few bucks and started to strip off.

What now? My Pops looks at me and raises his eyebrow as if to say “We’re Effed now Son, just go with it”. So we stripped off. Right off. The wrinkly lady handed us a pair of slipper type things – like the ones you see in those stately oil paintings next to the basset hound – and we headed on into another room.

I remember the heat. It smacks you like a massive hot wet pillow as you enter the room. This place was unbelievable. As we walked down the passage way, past the pool tables in a room on our left, past the showers on our right and down into a massive bar area! “No barman, serve yourself” he says so I grabbed a hold of three bottles of vodka. We sat down in this sort of main lounge area and spoke about sport and politics – just like any man would in the pub. But starkers. Bottles in hand we walked up anther corridor to the swimming pool area and the sauna rooms. Right – so this is how it’s done in Belarus.

You drink your vodka, hit the sauna and crank up the heat. Just before you pass out you bail out and dive into the pool. Cool that sounds awesome to me. So we hit the sauna and this madman cranks it up to 110 degrees Celsius. My pores were screaming. The wooden steps are close to their flash point I’m sure my gonads were about to explode. Okay it’s a pissing contest now. Guys will be guys so everything that causes pain or pushes you to the limits becomes a contest. My Dad folds first. Once his glasses started to literally burn the skin off his nose and melt around his ears he called it quits. He bailed out and dove into the pool. It’s just me and the big fella. I remember sitting there counting in my head, selling it to myself, but I just couldn't do it. I bailed out, slipped and stumbled a bit to the pool and dove in and WOW! Its freaking ice water! My entire body hit the panic button. My ears were ringing, my chest closed up and my brain felt like it was oozing out of my ears. Okay, out the pool and hit a few vodkas. Back in we go.

I must say it was an awesome experience. I can only compare it to the rush I had from sky diving. On our third or fourth run Dimitry brought in this bundle of weeds. Looks like something Maximus from Gladiator would use to beat the face off of someone. He looked at us and explained how the sea weed is soaked in the hot barrel of water and they release all sorts of natural oils which nourishes your skin. Sounds pretty cool I thought. He placed the weeds in the bucket by the door and told me to lie down on the top bench. I'm sorry, what? With some concern I lay down, chest down, with my balls tucked up as best I could to keep them from setting on fire and this guy started whacking the hell out of me with this boiling hot bundle of sea weed. Up and down my back and legs, strike after strike, he beat me like a hurricane. I just gripped on and pretended it didn’t hurt.

I don’t know how long I was beaten for. All I recall is about an hour later I was parking off in the communal area. Bombed on heat stress, adrenaline, vodka and infused with all kinds of oils I just sat there in a trance. I can’t explain it. Take the most relaxed you have ever felt, mix that with what I assume being in the womb feels like and that still won’t even come close to a Belarus Sauna.

What an awesome place.