The Best Clean Ever

Why pay someone to wash you?  Because in Turkey it is part of the cultural fabric, and no fabric is good if it's not clean.

Hamami, or Turkish Baths have existed for centuries, and fulfilled functions other than allowing nomadic people a place to clean themselves after travelling for many days and before going back into the desert.  The Hamams were communal places, and bathing then was social, and a way to gather and pass on news and other information.

Each hamami has two separate sections entered into through two separate entrances, one for men and one for women.  As women were rarely allowed outside their homes, the hamami provided much needed social interaction with other women.  The hours that a hamami is open for men are more than those for women, which makes me wonder anew if women really do take longer to complete their toilette than men say..

I did experience a similar experience in Budapest, Hungary, but it is never exactly the same thing in another country of course so I was eager to try it. But I didn't want to go alone.  For one thing I do not speak the language, and for another, new experiences are always better when shared.  I would never inflict myself on Eric'sstudents - they do not want someone as old as I tagging along so what to do? My dear friend Adrienne (Eric's wife) had told me in advance to go with Izmet's daughter. 

Izmet is a man who has established himself as one of the premier carpet sellers in Turkey and flies all over buying or selling carpets.  He and Eric go way back, and Eric always brings his students to Izmet to get a good, carpet buying lesson and experience.  Eric kindly set it up, and I walked to the hamami recommended at 4:30pm to meet Aicha.

The sign above the entrance indicates this hamami has been in operation since 1732,but its brochure cites 1505.  I don't know which is correct, but it doesn't really matter.  It's old.

Upon entering, we were directed to one of the many tiny rooms that line both upstairs and downstairs of the inner courtyard, which is called a camekan.  Each room has a window, a bench to sit on, hooks for clothing, and a tiny refrigerator.  I was also given a rather skimpy little towel.  Once all my clothing (all!) was removed, I wrapped myself in my towel, and locked the door to what for the next hour and a half will be my room.

Aicha and I moved through passageways into a series of very warm rooms, all floor to ceiling marble. Our first room held four large basins of water that look like Victorian street fountains. We sat down at two different basins and started to fill a plastic dish with wash to pour over ourselves, opening out our pores in the steamy atmosphere.  I gave up trying to keep myself covered once the water started to soak through my skimpy towel, but any embarrassment felt about allowing my naked body to be exposed to all was mine alone.  No one else cares.  We are all women and we all have beautiful bodies not matter whether they are fat or thin.  This is a truth many cultures know, but my culture is still a little shy about it, and verrging on the prudish. But I can be shy and prudish at home and open here.  Why not?  Everything is about context anyway.

As we added more scalding or freezing water to our marble basins, and poured dish after dish over our arms and hair and backs and feet, Aicha and I filled the air with conversation.  She is a very open and engaging woman, passionate and funny.  I was able to ask her more about the protests going on in Turkey from her viewpoint, and she told me about a house she has just bought that requires a lot of renovation. 

After about 15 minutes I was gestured to go into the main room next door.  It was a big, square room, with shower pipes along one wall, and sinks such as those I had jsut used along another wall.  In the middles was a large square box of warm marble, on which I was to lie face down.

A beefy Turkish woman shifted me into position and then started to massage my back and legs, vigorously but not at all painfully.  I placed my arms along my body but they were placed above my head immediately.  After my back was done, she tapped me on the back to indicatie I was to turn over for the same treatment to be given to my front side.  Another tap and I was to sit upright to have my arms done.  I have heard that in the not too distant past a dull knife was used, so not all modernity is bad in my opinion!  Out of the corner of my eyes I coluld see a layer of black coming off my skin.  Eww - I was wearing that?

Lying down on my front again I was lathered up with suds and scrubbed, more suds added so that I could feel the bubbles popping on my back.  Tap-tap and turn over. The marble is extremely slippery but my beefy soapstress just kept pulling and pushing and stopping me as I slid around on my warm soapy plinth. When I was done she through buckets of clean water over me until I was virtually soap free and I sat up thinking I was done.  But not quite.

A big squeeze of shampoo and my hair got the sudsing treatment.  My forehead was knocked back and forth by her ample cleavage and I had an inkiling of what it must be like to be a child in this culture, treating efficiently and lovingly but not able to exert any kind of will over the formidable power of the mama.

I was sent to whichever part of the room I wished to complete my rincing.  I had lots of time to put on conditioner and let it sit as I languidly poured basins-full of water over me which Aicha was cleaned.  We had a bit more time to socialize while rincing and that was it.  We left the main washing area for a small hallway from which we asked for new towels to wrap around ourselves to enter the changing area again.  There was a hairdryer and tea or water if we wanted it.

I know there are many newer and more beautiful hamams in Istanbul, but this was an authentic experience in an authentic place, and at 50 Lira it was considerably cheaper than the others.



Hamams have glass insserted in theirr rooves so that
to allow light into the baths

The two large domes (with light well)
denote the two large rooms, one for women and one for men