We talked Bert and Bill into going to a Hamam, or Turkish bath, in Antalya. Conveniently, there was one located on the hotel premises, making for a far less intimidating experience than the very large one in central Istanbul. When it was Kevin’s and my turn, we confused the concierge by asking whether we needed clothing. While her English was good, it wasn’t good enough to handle the delicate conversation that we had blundered into. To make sure she understood what we were asking, she said something like, “You mean…” and then made a motion over her body to indicate no clothing. She then responded to our nod with, “Well, I don’t know. I’ll go ask.” Clearly, we made a wrong assumption and said we’d get our bathing suits. Rarely have I seen someone look so relieved. A couple’s Turkish Bath in Turkey is apparently avec clothing.
There are three goals to a Turkish bath 1) Remove the first, and maybe, second layer of dead, or living, skin. 2) Remove any remaining bacteria left hiding in (almost) every nook and cranny. 3) Pound any existing muscle mass into jelly. If there is no muscle, liquify the fat. Hamams take place in marble rooms with marble benches, floors, and multiple sinks around the outer walls. During the bath, hot water runs continuously from the sink faucets, making the room hot and steamy. You sit at the sinks and rinse off while other bathers get washed on the marble slab, usually in the center of the room. After pouring buckets of hot water over you, the masseuse scrubs your entire body with a loofa glove, using all her strength. This is followed by a very soapy rub down. And then, while still soapy, the masseuse proceeds with a vigorous all-over body rub and pounding. At the very end she sits you on the bench, places the crown of your head against her bosom and washes your hair just like your mother did when you were 5. Our masseuse didn’t speak any English, but was very funny as she pantomimed for me while bathing Kevin.
When she got to his legs, she flexed her Popeye arm and pointed at Kevin’s thighs to show how strong they are. I would have thought that was very funny, except it’s ridiculous how many people comment on his legs and never comment on mine. In the end, she pantomimed for us to give her the tip rather than to the concierge. She made it clear they would steal it. Once again, I was reminded of how little a traveler understands of a place, and how easily it is to misunderstand when passing through and not speaking the language.
