Because I’m mildly obsessed with cultural bathing rituals (if I haven’t done a Mariam-story rendition of it for you yet, you should ask me about my Turkish bath experience), myself and some other staff members mud bathed our last day away, see details about this and Galapagos below…Five days in Galapagos were incredible, but they would have been incomplete without my last day in Ecuador at a mud bath with Arthur, Cherine, Amanda, Yas, Amy (all ship colleagues), and Carl (a former TSS Baltimore colleague). A mud bath, you say? Does this entail covering oneself with mud? I could say yes, but truly “covering” does not even begin the tale…
It entails rolling around, sloshing, sculpting, absorbing, and communing with a mud pit; then baking it into your pores, hair follicles, and bathing suit until you feel the cracking of every movement. Our limbs made the sucking sound of an air vacuum pop as we moved, we had a mud war before creating a shoulder massage chain, were sculpted into a scene only in Arthur’s mind, and rolled in dust while flailing – embracing the ever-present child-like vibrancy within each one of us.
It entails, not rinsing, but scrubbing and rubbing to get the water to run clear down the drain; then a wall of warm jets spraying from the wall en route to a dome-shaped pool of cool water. The dome of the cool water pool was the perfect shape so that our mere words sounded like an enchanted melody and our songs as if our souls were in the ripples of the water.
It entails a warm pool where the silence allows you to hear the opening of your pores and the meditations of your spirit; then a jasmine filled steam room with mist so thick your nose drips with the sweet, calming aroma. Intermittently, a cold water rinse revived our reality, but only for a moment.
It entails a vigorous salt massage, where your pores welcome replenishment. The Ecuadorian woman’s hands moved so fast, I clenched my teeth to resist the laughter of my ticklish feet and finally just resorted to redefining relaxation.
It entails skin so rejuvenated and soft and so much laughter that a Pacific crossing suddenly seemed possible.
Needless to say, it was only on day five after our Ecuadorian departure that I ceased to find treasures of mud and dried viscous salt pieces tangled in my hair… :)
It entails rolling around, sloshing, sculpting, absorbing, and communing with a mud pit; then baking it into your pores, hair follicles, and bathing suit until you feel the cracking of every movement. Our limbs made the sucking sound of an air vacuum pop as we moved, we had a mud war before creating a shoulder massage chain, were sculpted into a scene only in Arthur’s mind, and rolled in dust while flailing – embracing the ever-present child-like vibrancy within each one of us.
It entails, not rinsing, but scrubbing and rubbing to get the water to run clear down the drain; then a wall of warm jets spraying from the wall en route to a dome-shaped pool of cool water. The dome of the cool water pool was the perfect shape so that our mere words sounded like an enchanted melody and our songs as if our souls were in the ripples of the water.
It entails a warm pool where the silence allows you to hear the opening of your pores and the meditations of your spirit; then a jasmine filled steam room with mist so thick your nose drips with the sweet, calming aroma. Intermittently, a cold water rinse revived our reality, but only for a moment.
It entails a vigorous salt massage, where your pores welcome replenishment. The Ecuadorian woman’s hands moved so fast, I clenched my teeth to resist the laughter of my ticklish feet and finally just resorted to redefining relaxation.
It entails skin so rejuvenated and soft and so much laughter that a Pacific crossing suddenly seemed possible.
Needless to say, it was only on day five after our Ecuadorian departure that I ceased to find treasures of mud and dried viscous salt pieces tangled in my hair… :)
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