Bannik, the Spirit of the Bania
Medieval Europe had its bath house fairies, Finland’s sauna was the home for elves, the North American Fox Indians had Manitou in their sweat lodges, and the Russians bania was the haunt of the Bannik.
Unlike other sweathouse spirits, the Russian Bannik had a mischievous streak and rarely did anyone good. Bannik was described by rare witnesses as an old man with hairy paws and long nails. He lived behind the stove or under the benches and revealed himself only when he was unhappy with the bath or if someone had been disrespectful. Often it was the newcomer who received his wrath. If Bannik became angry, watch out! Bathers were known to have lost their skin and had their bodies wrapped around the stove for loud singing, talking or swearing in the bath–or simply for being a stranger. You were wise not to lie or boast, and certainly not to have sexual intercourse in the bath! Red hot rocks and boiling water have also been known to be thrown by a displeased Bannik.
To protect yourself from the Bannik, etiquette required making the sign of the cross before entering the bania, wishing your comrades a good bath and, when leaving, wishing the Bannik a hearty goodbye. Since the Bannik liked a clean room and bathed at least once a week, cleaning and heating the bania were duties that could not be neglected. The Bannik could control the quality of steam and could transform harmless steam into deadly coal gas if he wasn’t satisfied.
The third or fourth round of bathing was always reserved for the Bannik who liked to bathe alone in the dark. Soap, lye, and birch twigs were left behind for him. And a little extra because the Bannik sometimes invited his forest friends to join him–sometimes the Devil himself.
You knew when the Bannik had his friends in by the purring noise of their conversation. This was never a time to enter a bania alone. However, if you were curious and wanted to see the bania spirit, you had to go alone. You would step in with one leg and at the same time take your cross off your neck and put it under the heel of your left foot which symbolized your denial of God. The Bannik might then reveal himself.
From time to time, Bannik expected a sacrifice. After an old bania had been burned down and before a new one could be erected, a black chicken had to be choked and buried under the building site. Then, to assuage the rascal, salt was thrown over the stove during the first heating of the bania.
The bania also housed benevolent supernatural forces. Witches and sorcerers gathered in the bania to estahlish a link with these superior powers and here, surrounded by the magic forces of the bania, evil could be extracted from the body and the future prophesied.
The magical attributes of the sweat bath were the reason that the critical stages of a Russian’s life–birth, adulthood, marriage, and death–were conducted in the bania. The moment a person moved from the known to the unknown, they were vulnerable to evil forces that could enter and consume the Russian soul. With proper ritual, the bania’s powers could be summoned to protect the Russian during life’s crucial transitions.
The Birth Bania
The bania was ideal for a Russian woman giving birth–if the Bannik did not interfere. The midwife’s job was not only to assist with the birth, but also to keep the Bannik from interfering. One ruse was to dip four stones from the oven in water and throw them into a corner while muttering, “Into the corner with you stones! And smack the Devil in the forehead!” If this was not enough to repel evil, she scooped water from a bucket and lifted her hands to her face. She then chanted, “Just as this water slides off my arms, so should the evil eye slide off the servant of the Lord” (then she said the name of the pregnant woman). After she had scooped 27 handfuls of water and chanted 27 times, she took water in her mouth and sprayed the mother. After birth, the woman beat herself with birch twigs and washed herself. With help and support from the old ones who had assisted in the birth, the mother went through the same ritual with the new-born child.
Tereschenko, a 19th century Russian writer, wrote, “This custom (of giving birth in the bania) was not only followed by women of the Bojar (the nobility), but also among the Royal families.”
The Wedding Bania
After the groom had lifted his new wife over the threshold of the bania (a precaution taken because stillborn children were buried there and the groom did not want his first born to suffer the same fate), they undressed and tossed water on the rocks. Outside, wedding guests threw rocks and pottery at the bania to scare away the lurking Bannik. Among all the cries of “good luck!” a guest might have cracked, “Remember a couple that sweats together, stays together!” Whether or not sweating had anything to do with creating a viable marriage, at least the Russian Church sanctified it as one of the few permissible pagan rituals of the bania. The purification ritual began the night before with both the bride and groom taking separate banias.
Records of the groom’s night-before bania show more a cheerful, drunken fling rather than a solemn ceremony. The bride-to-be’s bania was heated with birch, pine or Siberian cedar, but never aspen for it was regarded as a sorrowful tree. During the bath she was expected to use the engagement present from the groom-a fresh birch whisk and a piece of soap. Her sweat was collected by pouring milk over her body and then dough was plastered over her. Later the dough was kneaded and made into bread and cakes to be served at the wedding feast. The bride-to-be’s sweat mixed with vodka, wine, and grains were poured on the bania rocks to enhance the scent. Honey and hops were added to give the bride-to-be a rich sweet life.
Occasionally a poor peasant family would not have a regular bania, but so important was the wedding bania that the household baking oven would be used instead. Before all the cakes and breads had been prepared, the oven was cleaned and the bride-to-be was shoved in on a wooden platter. The door was sealed from the outside while she sweated and washed alone.
A peasant’s wedding is described by an Irish woman who visited Russia in 1805:
The Bride elect dissolved in tears sat at the top of a Table (previous to the bathing business) which was laid out with emblematic Fruits. Presently after the Bridegroom presented her with her Toilet and then disappeared & was conducted to his bath by his Companions! This Toilette consisted of every necessary article together with Rouge & white paint. A group of girls then set up what sounded like a sort of Requiem called Pesui Swad bachnia! (She goes on to describe the song.)
We then attended her to the Bath with all her young Companions amounting to between 30 and 40 Girls who assisted in undressing her in the outer Chamber & then led her in a flood of tears naked to the Bath. They then took off their own Cloaths-after scouring her to their hearts’ content danced round about in all their National Dances, clapping their hands & drinking Wine which was dispensed by another Eve who sat with a bottle in one hand and a glass in the other, her long tresses falling down about her shoulders which like all the others was the only Covering they could boast….
I believe we stay’d above an hour at the Bath which became the most festive scene imaginable. They Colour’d themselves for the sport in the most ridiculous manner and sang & danced like a Troop of Bacchanals while the Bride continued mute and in a flood of tears. At length she was conducted back to the House & again took her seat at the Table while all her Companions sang (another song).
After several trifling ceremonies the whole affair ended in a very handsome Supper, the next day the Couple was married . . .
The Death Bania
Early Russian writers described the requiem bania. To properly prepare a Russian soul for its journey to the next land, a pillow was stuffed with birch leaves and the coffin was sprinkled with birch twigs. The soul would then be equipped with a vennik for banias in the afterlife. Once the coffin was buried, the grave site was visited periodically and fresh venniks were left. By bathing together after the funeral, mourners were assured that the beloved soul would be warmed for its long journey. The communal bath also affirmed their own lives and helped them overcome their grief.
Forty days after death, the bania was again visited by friends and relatives of the deceased. If a farmer died, his daughter would sing this song while everyone was gathered in the bania:
Come my breadwinner and nourisher, my father,
Your orphans have heated the bania for you,
our nourisher, our father,
The lye is ready,
The spring water warm,
And a satin white birch stick is ready,
Comne nourisher, our father,
With no restraints or reservations,
Do not complain how the bania was heated,
or how you were prepared for,
Come promptly to us our father for a pleasant night,
We have intoxicating wine,
And we have distilled fresh brandy.
From a Christian point of view, the ritual of death bania was an object of mockery, as an ancient chronicle testifies: ” … but many people as a result from their blindness from evil place milk, meat, eggs for the dead on holy Thursday. They make a fire in the oven and toss water on the rocks after which they call out, ‘Wash ye spirits!’ They even take forth shirts and towels for the use of the dead. But the devil laughs at this stupidity and sneaks in and rolls around in the ashes, leaving tracks like a chicken. In this way they are deceived–the blind idiots. When the people see the tracks in the ashes they say, ‘Ah, the person’s spirit has come and bathed!’ and then the devil laughs.”
This information was pulled from Sauna.com.