Today I went to the Arasan Wellness & SPA to enjoy the largest bath house in Central Asia. I spent two hours in the spa/sauna area before going for a massage and peel. For obvious reasons I was not able to take photos inside so this story will not include pictures but perhaps words alone will give you a sense of how different this is from the spas back at home.

For starters, this is a nude facility so leave inhibitions at the door. Men and women have separate spas so you won’t have any problem there, except for the Canadian guy in front of me at the desk who said, “All the guys in the pool are naked? Swimming around together? No, not today.” I didn’t see him afterwards so couldn’t ask if he loosened up at all.

And in case anyone asks, the womens’ side is NOT at all like Hollywood portrays these places. The women range from 6 to 90 years old so you get every single body type, most of which are average in reality but not pictured in movies or on TV. This was truly a body appreciation day, and while I can’t say all womens’ bodies are beautiful, I can say I didn’t feel out of place.

I started in the Finnish sauna and realized it’s not my thing. Too hot and no steam still draws the sweat out fast and furious. I moved over to the Russian banya and found it a bit nicer. Still hot but not so unbearable. Until the Kazakh lady came in and shouted something which I think meant she was going to throw water into the stove. She did just that and the temperature skyrocketed about 100 degrees in 5 seconds. I thought I was going to melt to death, and figured I was a wimpy Westerner until the other ladies in the room turned tail (literally) and booted out the door fast. I had to hold my towel to my face as I thought it was going to burn off, it was that hot. Following which I took a blessedly cold shower, then went into the Turkish hammam, which Goldilocks style was juuuuuust right. Then I thought of ‘Eastern Promises’ and decided to vacate.

Into the ‘bath’, which is a circular pool filled with cool water. The room is lovely and huge, rising up into a half moon at the top. There are benches tiled in iridescent blue and turquoise around the perimeter where you can sit for a break from the water, and the benches are heated so they provided a happy medium for my psyche. To enter the pool you had to wear a bathing cap to keep the hair out. I resorted to the cheapo Saran Wrap provided by the spa, other ladies wore heavy-duty plastic with rhinestones (note to self, get one of those), and then one girl wore a wool hat. With ears.

There were a couple of moms with their young daughters hanging out and I thought what a nice way to spend time together. As I lay there contemplating cool moms and life in general, I heard a very loud farting noise coming from the pool. Two ladies were floating and talking and I thought to myself, ‘For real?’ And then I thought of Eddie Murphy. And then I realized they weren’t farting, it was a funny sound the pool made as it drained the overflow. But then I smelled a smell, a few times, and figured it was the woman on the bench next to me, which made me think at least she’s not doing it in the water but maybe I won’t go back in anyway.

Time for my massage and peel. I went upstairs to meet my masseuse, a lovely young Kazakh woman who looked ready to pummel. She took me to the communal massage room which passed through a restaurant filled with women and men in various states of undress drinking and eating. It reminded me of ‘Caligula’. If it had been set in a restaurant. And was porn free. Through a few more twists and turns and we got to the space where 7-8 women were lying on the tables getting massaged, thumped, and pinched. Again, no clothing is not optional so thankfully she put a towel over my head because if I can’t see anyone they can’t see me, right? Then it didn’t matter anyway because IT HURT. I know it’s supposed to be good for you but she found every knot in my body and tried to lift them out with her fingers. She jerked my knees back and forth which reminded me repeatedly that I think I have arthritis. I thought maybe my arms would fare better but THEY DIDN’T. She put them both behind my back, clasped my hands together then inserted herself under them and hoisted my top half off the table. WTF???? But I was still an optimist and thought maybe the head massage will be ok. BUT IT WASN’T. She massaged it, yes, but she also tried to pull all my hair out section by painful section. You should know I shed like a beast and by this point I could feel my hair falling everywhere around us. Eventually she stopped because time was up, but I really think it was because she was tangled up and had nowhere to go.

We had to walk back to the peeling room through the restaurant, still very Caligula-like, into another communal room with marble benches covered in more ladies in various stages of soap downs. I had opted for the corn and coffee peel (scrub down) cuz the lady at the front told me in perfect English it is good for dry skin. I was curious about the corn, turns out it’s more like a very coarse ground cornmeal, and the coffee is just coffee grounds. The only way I can explain the feeling of having corn dripped on you is like being in a car wash and watching the overhead system spatter soap and wax on the car. Then you’re lathered up with soap (I think), rinsed off, covered in coffee grounds and rinsed off again. I was on my stomach for the first part, and as she covered me in the soap, I became very slippery on the marble bench and started squeegee-ing to the end while my skin made unholy suction noises to notify everyone I was sliding off. She had to come over to my head and slide me back on. I didn’t watch a lot of what was going on with the other ladies in the room but I do not recall seeing any of them have this problem. She then told me to flip over and scrubbed, lathered, scrubbed, and hosed me down again in a grand finale. Fortunately I did not skid off this time. I thought about going to the restaurant for a light drink but figured it would probably hurt and decided against it.

I went to shower and found that cornmeal and coffee grounds are just like ocean sand that finds its way into every bodily nook and cranny. I tried my best to remove it but judging by the uncomfortable sensation of a loofah in sensitive places as I was walking home, I was not successful in getting all of it.

Nevertheless, I have never been whiter as she scrubbed off my tan lines, or this soft since I was a baby. The three and a half hours inside the bath house cleaned me up, cleared my head, and restored movement to my knees. While I clearly laughed and made fun of it throughout, I would definitely go do it again, and really, can’t recommend it enough.