About 2 miles from the spa, the signs on stores and dry cleaners converted to Korean with English subtitles. 1 mile away the street signs converted fully - all Korean.

Fine.

Then the epicenter - the sauna, no more English.

This is in the middle of New Jersey mind you. Exactly 8 miles from Manhattan. But I rationalized it saying, "this is a diverse country. People have the right to live in cultural clusters and speak their language. If I want to feel welcomed, maybe I should learn Korean!"

Well, I stepped into a market next to the spa, to grab an orange or something. I asked if they had fruit. The clerk's response was a broken , "no cooked food". Then, everyone starred at me. I had the sneaking suspicion that they were all fluent in English, but used language as a tool to isolate me. Maybe my own insecurity.

I jumped in my car and headed north for a few minutes.and grabbed breakfast while I waited from Kallima and Kris to arrive. They were an hour late! Sheeeeesh!

The George Washing bridge was a beast and they were stuck in traffic.

No worries. I waited.

It's important to get out and try new things! To all my single ladies, here's why...

As I'm sitting on a bench in the sunlight, still waiting, now eating a banana and drinking smart water, a cool and very cute guy approached me. I noticed him from afar because I love it when Black guys wear crisp white t-shirt and rugged blue jeans.

He said " I see you trying to be all organic and such".

"Yep 'brother' (code word for I'm married), I am".

"Yeah, I haven't eaten pork since '98 and now I don't eat ground beef anymore" he informed me.

I thought, "I wonder if that preempts steaks?".

We had a long and very nice conversation on the corner bench.

...back to the sauna. My friends arrived.

Let me start by saying...

Black women have it all wrong when it comes to health and beauty.

Sorry.

This was a transformative experience.

The type that you don't want to tell others about for fear it may alter it in the slightest if more outsiders like you come crowding through.

It was Korean. Through and through. I was the blackest. The biggest. The most awkward. And it was all worth it.

First check in.

The three of us got hot pink pajamas. A la "Fresh Prince of Bel Air era" Kris joked. I asked the clerk, "how are pajamas that fit Kallima - who is exactly a buck-o-five gonna fit me - a hearty 191, standing nearly 6 feet tall". The answer, they didn't fit either of us. Too baggy for Kallima. Too short for me.

We nervously made our way through the winding mazes of locker rooms, shoe racks and naked women, and well ...more naked women. Hundreds of them actually. All similar looking enough. Tan-olive skin, dark straight hair no taller than 5'5 no heavier than 170 for the most part.

They tried hard not to stare at the Black urbanites - knock off bags, scarves and plastic water bottles in tote.

We undressed in front of one another - that's the least we could do - and put on the pink pajamas. At this point, we were still unsure why they gave us pajamas, but everyone else was buck. (Buck, as opposed to "butt naked" which I've been mistakenly saying for 30 years).

We soon found out. Clothes are for the dry saunas and buck is for - you guessed it - the elaborate wet side. We had all showered - so we thought, I'll get to that later - so we explored the dry side first.

Kallima and Kris said they'd work their way up to nudity. No work needed here. I love streaking!

No clue if dry-wet, as opposed to wet-dry, was the proper order of operation. But nothing about our assses was "proper" in that place.

First stop Amethyst sauna. It glimmered like the entrails of the purple meteorite. Mineral heat. Good for...... everything (read the NYT article below) It was cool. Kinda hot. Hot as hell actually. I still had a bad attitude.

Next stop, the yellow clay room. Ahhh now that just sounds like a big ol' hippie hug. And it was. After 10 or so minutes of deep breathing, I was laying on my back with my legs in the deepest lotus position, I've ever done in my life. Me likes the yellow clay room. Me body likes it tooooooo!

Then it happened. Mist. Ahhhh

Mist and yellow clay.

Yep, I'm coming back.

All 6 women left the room - my 2 chocolate sista and my 4 Korean cousins - all suckas. I was determined to sweat out all of this years toxins.

Needless to say, I left 1 minute later.

Kris was hungry. Fresh watermelon, arugula salad with mango, freshly juiced carrots, spicy pore cleansing curry...so many options, no time to wait for her decision.

I was off to the wet side!!! Wet siiiiiide!!!!.

I'd booked a body scrub and organ massage. Yep just what it sounds like. Deep DEEP tissue massage. You ain't ready.

(Glad I didn't do the dry massage. It includes a traditional cupping or coining type process that leave giant red welts all across backs. Like 72 women in there had been hit with a bag of nickles.)

The wet side was visually stunning. I'm not lesbian, but I think the female form is beautiful. Perky boobs, saggy mamas, Little nips, brown nips, pink toes, giant bums, tiny waists, muffin tops, long necks, rosy cheeks, big smiles, grimaces. Womanness in full beauty.

We don't see it enough - outside of eroticized male visions of us. It was so refreshing.

I showered.

...sitting on a tiny-ass white stool. Hilarious.

Women around me busied themselves in pipping hot steam rooms, a giant community whirlpool, ice cold cool-down dipping pools, marble rain shows and of course the squat showers like the one I used - don't judge me, I was nervous!

Some even washed strangers backs and arms. It was a level of intimacy and community that I've personally never known with women.

I guess the closest thing Black women have to that is braiding each others hair and the greasing of the scalp. Dang I need somebody to do that for me!

My number was called and my world was changed.

The tiny Korean lady dressed in a black partially see-through bra and panty set proceeded to fix me. She scrubbed for a solid hour. In places...well...it reminded me of getting my diaper changed.

Yep, been that long.

Then she proceed to dump buckets of mineral water on me. I was cracking up. She was a tough chick. She didn't stop. She scrubbed more, exfoliating rolls of skin, dirt and grim that I am frankly embarrassed that I had.

I'm a new woman.

Then the massage.

Kneading pulling, slapping, stretching.

It fixed me.

Then she lathered me with a baby oil substance and repeated.

Then the facial and scalp massage, man.

When she was done, she poured soup in my hands and made me rub 'em together and wash my face, pits and down there. Then she hosed me down and ordered me to the pipping hot steam room.

Young sisters were in there, I'd guess 17 and 20, sitting Indian style on the marble benches rubbing their ovaries, livers, and spleens in fast concentric circles.

I copied them. They laughed.

It was clear I didn't know what the hell I was doing. Hell, I just learned that I ovulated from only one ovary each month, now I'm trying to practice Korean acupressure. Yeah, okay.

Got out and the world seemed anew. Ordered some carrot juice, watched families spend time grooming one another, laughed at the theater style Korean soap opera room, passed by the men's wing, some of them were in a similar theater watching golf, noticed the stairs to the 2nd and 3rd floors left unexplored.

So this sauna was more than a sauna.

It was community. Sisterhood. Healthy eating. Laughter. Confidence. Motherhood. Tradition. ...and just a whole lot of fun.

Returned to my locker, packed, got dressed, paid - 25 dollars with a coupon for entry to all saunas (45 regularly) and an extra 90 for my body scrub and massage. Can't beat dem prices! - and walked to my car. I turned the ignition, then turned it off. I had to write this article here and now.

Now, I can start my day...

Considerations and Suggestions

Bring CASH! The front office operation of this sauna seemed a little shady. You give them your credit card to hold while you are there. There was a mixup with credit cards on the way out...
If you have a press and curl, you better braid it up before you go!
If you are "naked-phobic", do some deep reflection before going here.
Don't park in the valet parking, there is free parking up the road.
Make an exit strategy if you go with friends, the place is HUGE with tiny caves and spas and saunas and swimming pools everywhere, it's awkward peeking in every room looking for friends.

Here's the website for the place

Here is a NY Times article about it

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