I am not sure why I went, but I’m glad I did.
On Friday I got an email–“We’re going out to Tecate for the Temazcal, why don’t you join us?” Hmmm. I had been planning on a Friday afternoon siesta, not a Friday afternoon ‘throw what you can in the car and drive out to Tecate.’ But, I was also intrigued.
So I did one of those “If they haven’t left yet, and if I have enough time to get my stuff together, then I’ll go” while secreting hoping that the group had already left. They hadn’t. So, rather haphazardly, I got myself ready. Since I don’t have a tent or a sleeping bag with me here in Mexico I figured that I (along with Tigger) would sleep in the car, and use some blankets for padding/warmth. Note to self: next time when you know it is going to drop into the 30’s at night, bring more than three blankets. I packed a beach chair, some dog food, warm clothes, and a few snacks for myself. “I’ll only stay until tomorrow afternoon,” I reasoned, “so I don’t need much of anything.”
When we got to Tecate, and after driving along a dirt/rock road that would make the VW dealer where I bought my Tiguan (which is not really an SUV or 4WD) cringe, we arrived at the camping spot in the hills. The area around Tecate has a rugged, rocky (as in boulders) beauty.
A Temazcal, which is a Nahuatl word, is what would, in English, call a ‘sweat lodge.’ I have actually been a part of a sweat lodge ceremony once before, during a Vision Quest week on the Island of Mull, off the coast of Scotland, at a wilderness retreat center called Camas.
The temazcal is basically a small (low to the ground) tent-like shelter (with no windows and one flap for a door) into which are placed fiery hot rocks (literally heated from a blazing fire) which are then drenched with water to produce the steam. With the flaps closed, and with many (we must have had 40) people squeezed together inside, it gets hot. Really hot. And steamy. So steamy that when you finally leave, your clothes are drenched. Literally. Like wring them out as if you had just jumped in a pool.
What differentiates the temazcal from any other sauna is, in the words of the leader of the ritual, the intention of the participants. It is a spiritual ceremony, that is enhanced and represented by the physical purification, but not limited to the physical only. There is chanting, singing, prayer, and silence in the ritual. Burning sage and rosemary fill the sweat lodge with an incense that infuses the sweat. Taste, smell, sound, touch and even sight (or lack of, in the pitch black) are all engaged, with the assumption that one leaves the temazcal a different person that one entered.
This temazcal happened on this particular weekend because of the full moon and the spring equinox and was actually part of a ‘danza de la primavera‘ weekend, hosted by the Kumiai people. There were dances to welcome the sun, dances to greet the full moon as it rose, and, in the morning a ‘campfire chat’ (I tried to ask what the word was in Spanish for this but the people I was with did not know what to call it. The closest we could get was an enseñanza or teaching. If we were in a church it would be called the sermon) which included remembering the people of Japan and a reflection on our connectedness to one another.
It was a fascinating weekend. One thing that struck me was the respect paid to the ‘abuelos and abuelas,’ the grandfathers and grandmothers (or elders as we might refer to them), such a contrast to much of our American culture that seems to idolize youth rather than respect age. The dances were lead by the elders, but were always inclusive as well of the young.
One of Saturday’s dances was in honor of Tata Cachora or Grandfather Cachora, thought to be around 98 years old, and known as “the most knowledgeable healer” in the world. He had just arrived back from Germany where he had been teaching. Not bad for 98!
The weekend was most definitely a fantastic photo op. (More photos can be found at my flickr set, Temazcal in Tecate.) It was also definitely outside of the realm of my normal day-to-day life. (At one point during the ritual dancing I did find myself wondering “I’m a Presbyterian minister–how in the world did I wind up here?”)
It was also interesting to participate in it during the season of Lent, which, among other things, remembers the 40 days that Jesus spent ‘in the wilderness.’ We only know, according to the book of Mark, that he was ‘with the wild beasts and the angels ministered to him.’ What did he do for those 40 days? Did he dance? Did he sing while sitting around a fire? Did he see visions?
I wonder, was there a ‘temezcal’ there?