My First Turkish Bath

A joyous time indeed.

Who doesn't love a bath? Just a few simple rules; hot water to soak in, a comfortable environment and lots of privacy... Let's just call the Turks rule breakers because this was quite the opposite.

A Turkish bath, or Hammam, is a rich Turkish tradition that blends "a period of relaxation in the steam-filled hot room, punctuated by bouts of vigorous soaping and massaging". My experience was entering a small hole in the wall place and greeted by a robust potbellied Turkish man with a handlebar mustache and no clothes, except for a small plaid sheet wrapped around his waist. He asked which program we would prefer, the options sounding eerily like a car wash; choices being hot room, soap and scrub, full body oil, etc. We choose the full program, a mixture of the massage and soap, and were lead to a changing room to adorn our own plaid sheets. Then we were split up and sent to separate chambers for men and women. Upon walking in, there is a large slab of marble in the middle of the room and then small basins with hot & cold faucets along the walls. I was motioned to sit down at the basin edge and wait for the attendant. About a minute later, in walks a very large man slightly resembling old school wrestler King Kong Bundy and enough chest hair to clothe a small child.

"BATH TIME!"

My new bath playmate motioned for me to lie on the large marble slab face down and proceeded to take a large rag that held air in it and liberally doused me from head to toe in foamy soap from a dish. Then began the massage...

This man's hands were quite the skilled set as they broke down every knot in my back in a few short minutes, while my arms and legs went flailing as he made bones I've never heard pop sound like rice krispies. Then all of a sudden, SMACK, I exhaled deeply as his hand left it's print in my back and he motioned with his little finger for me to roll over. A similar routine ensued on the front and before I knew it, I was led to the water where the attendant applies shampoo and does a rather rough neck and head massage before dousing you with water again from the basin. Then it is back to the slab as he takes a rough mitt to scrub you head to toe and in places you didn't know you ever had dirt. While the sensation was amazing and seemed very thorough, once he left me to rinse myself at the basin, you kind of felt a small sense of defeat and relief that your ordeal was now over. You have just been man-handled, scrubbed and shampooed by a man twice your size while wearing nothing but a sheet, but damn did you feel good.

After relaxing in the hot room, you return to the lobby for dry towels and a hot pomegranate tea. There the women and men convene and can have small talk if they wish. In the old days, the hammam was where mothers might size up potential wives for their sons and the men might discuss the day's events.

All in all, it was extraordinarily relaxing and Jen was purring after her massage. The custom and the tradition was amazing and a joy to experience. I think we might go again today...

Same time next week?