Swami in the Sauna

Don't think twice, it's all right. I'm still sick, but I am slightly better... well... ok maybe not...

So I am at this Hotel San Martin, a cute little panopticon on the shores of Viña Del Mar. I say this because the walls are paper thin, so you can here adjoining rooms down the hallway, the concierge seems to monitor everyone's coming and goings and the front desk appear to intuitively know everyone's name. It feels a little like the Village in The Prisoner series. When I went to investigate the gym and the sauna, the conceriege appeared in a puff of smoke.

"May I help you?" (This is retail for "What are you doing here?", some phrases are apparently universal).
"Uh, sure, I'd like to use the sauna."
"You have to make a reservation."
"For the Sauna?"
"Yes, so that I may turn it on for you."
"Umm, OK, how about an hour from now."
"Very well."

She disappeared in another puff of smoke. After fruitlessly searching for my bathing suit for an hour, I went downstairs with my towel to the sauna. The Conceriege magically appeared again.

"Here is a towel for you to use."
"I brought my own."
"From your room?", she said, eyebrow cocked in disbelief.
"Yes"
"Well I suppose you may use that then. The sauna is ready for you and there is a shower in there."
"Thanks."

She disconcertingly disappeared again. Now if this were a single-sex sauna I would be fine with just laying their in the buff. But since women could walk in a be blinded by my whale like carcass floundering in the heat, I decided to leave on my boxers.

It was like only 90 degrees fahrenheit when I got in there. Ridiculously cold. So I splashed some water on the rocks. Ten minutes later barely over 100. I've been in saunas from Tokyo to Frankfurt to Pigeon Forge Tennesee, I have never been so damn cold in one. Annoyed I poured intense amounts of water on the rocks and started meditating.

I'm not sure when it reached 150°... when on the edge of heatstroke and meditating you tend to lose track of time. As sweat finally drenched out of me, the desert returned to my mind. Even in the damn sauna you can hear the constant pulsing rhythm of the dryer's in the washroom behind the adjoining wall. It gave me a beat so I sang a song with my hoarse throat.

Wisdom said she'd meet me,
out in the desert.
Said she'd find my soul there.
I drove out in my car.

I found myself lost there
out in the desert
Wisdom said she'd meet me
She'll only meet my bones.

Between the soft hills there
out in the desert,
She said that I'd be cleansed.
But it only bleached my bones.

My voice finally cracked. So I stopped. A few minutes later that pesky survival instinct kicked in.

"Hey" it said.
"What."
"It's time to go."
"I'm seeking inner wisdom. I'm healing this is my sweat lodge man."
"I think you've had enough wisdom for one day."
"Inner voices are a sign of unsettled minds."
"Intuition is your ego protecting your body from your mind."

And this is why I don't meditate too much... loud inner voices.

Despite the loud inner voices it summoned, the sauna cleared my sinuses out quite nicely. As I stumbled out and opened my locker, I made a horrible discovery. My shoes smell awful. At first I thought it was the towel, then my socks, but the culprit is definitely my shoes, which I dutifully place in the locker along with the rest of my clothes.

Wearing my Jeans, Shirt, Shoes and Socks I went upstairs with the rest of the stuff rolled up in the room towel since all of it was dirty, I took the sauna towel up to dry off with later. Once I put socks and boxers on, I sprayed some body spray into my shoes. After watching the commercials for these products, I expect flocks of rabid, voluptuous, young women to supplicate at my feet anytime now. Damn marketing.