Conquering the Temazcal
Written by Jesse
This past weekend, my partner, daughter and I headed to Yelapa for the birthday party of our friends stepson. Though we hadn't planned to stay the night, we embraced the opportunity to and found ourselves there the next morning, well rested with a fresh coconut in hand. And good thing we did, because little did I know, I was about to confront and overcome a pretty big fear.
The night before, a friend of mine had told me that the next day there would be a temazcal and that I should try it. Though I had heard of them before, I wasn’t quite sure what it was, what it entailed. As she described it to me, she became super passionate, telling me I couldn’t miss it and how excited she was that I would be there in the morning to try it. The look in her eye sold me on it and though nervous, I agreed to give it a try.
For those who don’t know what a temazcal is, let me describe it for you. For those who do, well, you know what I was in for. An ancient cleansing ritual, it is used to heal physical, mental and spiritual ailments. As Yelapa native Tatiana Rodriguez describes it, “a temazcal is an ancestral ceremony in the form of a sweat lodge that uses volcanic rocks heated first in a fire and then water poured on them to create the cleansing steam. It is described as returning to the mothers womb, because the temazcal is dark and has the shape of a woman’s belly. The rocks represent semen entering and fertilizing the womb.” A beautiful tradition that represents rebirth, the temazcal has been used for thousands of years. With this definition in mind, though hesitant and nervous, I couldn’t wait to cleanse myself.
Upon entering Sana (a designated safe space and wellness area in Yelapa about a 5 minute walk from the beach), I tied a pareu around my waist, as is customary for the women to wear a skirt. One by one, we were instructed to stand with our arms spread so the sahumadoras could clean our auras with copal. I was asked to remove any metal, as it could heat up inside the temazcal. I was told to breathe in through my nose as opposed to mouth, to get low to the ground if I felt I couldn’t breathe, to ask for permission to leave, to speak. Hearing these tips made me feel ready but panicky. Would I be able to survive the heat? The claustrophobia? What if I needed to get out but I wouldn’t be allowed?
Getting closer to go time, a bowl of tobacco was passed around and we each picked up a handful. We held the tobacco in our hands like old friends, whispering intentions and prayers before throwing it into the fire. As Tatiana tells me, “the tobacco is the channel to open a direct conversation with the universe.” I held onto my tobacco tightly, it offered me comfort in my moments of uneasiness. I whispered words to it, wishes, desires, fears. When it came time to throw it into the fire, I didn’t want to, as it felt I was saying goodbye to a long lost friend. But with my intentions set, I threw my tobacco into the fire, wishing it farewell.
Before going into the temazcal, we stood around a fire and the rocks that would eventually be put in the temazcal with us. Our guide, Pancho, talked to the group for a few minutes, mentioning the vision quest some would be embarking on in a few weeks. A vision quest, for those who are wondering, entails going up into the mountains for 4 days, without food, water, or speaking to anyone. Some of the people who were with us at the temazcal are embarking on the upcoming vision quest and hearing about their upcoming cleanse was interesting and put into perspective how do-able the temazcal would be. Compared to the vision quest, the temazcal cleansing didn’t seem too intense.
As we got ready to head into the temazcal, I was nervous. Nervous but calm. My friend had told me “if you could give birth, you can do this no problem.” That helped calm me down, A LOT. Preparing the temazcal was intriguing to watch and helped to distract me from what I felt was the impending doom of the door of the tight space closing. As someone who can’t get into an elevator by themselves, I knew this was going to be a big test for my fear and anxiety.
Because of its small size, we had to crawl into the temazcal, but before entering had to say a prayer on all fours; “Permiso para entrar, por todas mi relaciones.”
After we had all piled in (there were 23 of us) and were sitting either criss cross apple sauce, or hugging our knees to our chests, our guide continued talking, casual conversation from what I could understand (remember, my Spanish isn’t 100%). One of the guide’s helpers, who was still outside of the temazcal, handed Pancho what looked to be antlers, which we would use to transfer the volcanic rocks from the pitchfork into the designated rock hole in the temazcal. One by one, Casio, one of the guides, brought in the rocks, removing them from the fire outside into the temazcal via pitchfork. Once all the rocks were in, 13 I believe, Pancho sprinkled sage on top of them. And the rocks lit up like fireflies. Scents of sage began to envelop the temazcal. Lastly, one of Pancho’s helpers handed him the two hand drums, one of which he passed to Tatiana. And from there, it was go time.
It was then, when they were about to close the tent, that the panic started to set in.
I looked over at my partner and mouthed the words “I’m scared” as tears began to roll down my face. “I can’t do this, I have to get out” I mouthed to him. The others in the temazcal offered words of support, and assured me this was something I could do, something I could conquer. I wiggled my hand under the tarp and placed my hand on the ground outside. Having that one hand out gave me just enough peace of mind and comfort. Though my head told me to get out while I could, my heart told me to stay. So I did. With one hand outside of the tent, and another gripping a small pebble I had picked up from the ground, I felt scared though equipped to face the darkness, the claustrophobia, and well, the heat. As they closed the door (by pulling the tarp down), I cried. Cried out of fear and happiness. A weird mix, I know, but that’s what I felt. A sense of happiness because I was conquering something I never thought possible. In the hand I held the pebble, I also held my partners hand. I clenched it, and that helped. It grounded me, made me feel secure, just as the pebble and having one hand outside did. Made me truly believe that I wouldn’t get trapped, that the door would open, that I wouldn’t get stuck in the tent, like the claustrophobia said.
As we settled in and the heat began to surround us, Pancho gave the green light for the songs to begin.
I quickly realized that singing helped. Trying to focus on breathing didn’t, thinking didn’t, as I just freaked myself out about the tight space. The singing really transformed my experience, and acted as a timer for when the door would open. Though I didn’t know the words, I sang and hummed along, which made it easier to breath.
Once that first door opened, after about 3 or 4 songs, I felt relief and then immediately thought “see, that wasn’t so bad. You can do this.” Again came more rocks from the outside fire, more sage, another closing of the temazcal and more songs.
Though I only lasted 3 of the 4 doors, I left feeling rejuvenated, more down to earth, more calm, more grounded. I was covered in dirt and felt a connection and closeness to earth that I had never experienced. At first I was disappointed with myself for bailing on the last door, but I tried to rid myself of that inner critic and reminded myself how big of a fear I had just faced. How great of a job I had done. As I descended back down to the beach to be with my daughter, Daphne, I was excited to just lay and play with her. No phone, no distraction, just be in the moment observing and enjoying our time. Though this is always a goal for me, having just come out of the temazcal, this goal seemed easy.
The temazcal left me feeling healed, appreciative, alive. And left me wanting more. Though relieved it was over and happy I was out in the open world once more, I came to realize that I could do it again. And that was the best feeling of all.
