Nobody's Business But the Turks!

Note to Self: Get a Turkish Bath before you die! Why? Well…because it’s awkward! Not to mention, you’ve never before been so clean and smooth. Even the Turkish vendors will yell… “Hey, shiny ladies!” instead of the regular “Hey spice girls” as you walk through the Spice Market or “Hey yellow lady” to your blond friend or “Excuse me, you dropped something. No really, you did drop something…Oh! It moved inside!” while navigating your body through the Grand Bazaar.

Since this would probably be the only time any of us would endure the gloriousness of bathing in Turkey, we decided to splurge and go all out. In Istanbul, we went to Cağaloğlu Hamam and purchased the Sultan’s package. We figured we couldn’t go wrong given that this particular Hamam has been in use since 1741, has served the likes of people such as King Edward VIII, Florence Nightingale and Cameron Diaz, is claimed to be in the top 5 bathhouses in the world, and listed in the book 1,000 Places to See Before You Die.

Step one, we can have lots of fun. After selecting the Sultan’s package, we were given a kese (a coarse mitt) and led to the women’s corridor. There are cubicles surrounding the corridor lounge; and we were each led to our own little cubicle to change our cloths – we each came out of our rooms with a miniature peștemal wrapped around us and wearing wooden sandals that were so large we had to shuffle along like Geishas.

Step two, there’s so much we can do. At that point, we are each greeted by our own personal bather, who led us through the soğukluk (an intermediate room with a temperate passage from the changing rooms to the hararet (the hot room). Once in the hararet, our ladies sat us around the outside of the room next to a fountain of hot water. There we sat on the hot marble

ground in just our underpants and were instructed to pour the hot water over ourselves. This part would have been far more awkward if I hadn’t had the practice at the

Black Sea last summer. We chatted, splashed and giggled amongst our harem.

Step three, it’s just you for me. After steaming our skin for a good 25 minutes, our ladies returned in swimsuits and led each of us to one of the edges of the giant marble octagon in the center of the room. There, we were gently laid onto our backs, with someone else’s feet at my head, and my feet at someone else’s head. We then handed our coarse loofah type mitt over to our bather and she went to town. I thought that maybe we would have started laying on our stomachs while we got to know each a little but nope, we jumped right into the deep end of the awkwardness pool. “Lady, it okay?” As she scrubbed my arms I could see the dead skin coming off in massive amounts…I wondered what I would be left with. I was then motioned to roll over. However, as I sat up the small of my back suctioned to the wet marble slab and as I pulled away, it made a giant farting sound. “Lady, no problem.” Still giggling to myself, I rolled over and soon found more to smile about as she yanked my underwear down to get the top of my butt and then made them into a thong so she could get the bottom. After the de-skinning, she stood me up (underwear still in a homemade thong) and led me back over to my fountain to get rinsed off. The Geisha shuffle proved to be even more difficult on the wet ground so I was nearly hanging on my much shorter Turkish lady. During the rinsing, I glanced over to my friend who was getting water dumped down the backside of her underwear. I’m still laughing just writing about it!

Step four, I can give you more. We were led back to the marble slab for a massage and then back to the fountain for another rinsing. “Lady, Sultan for you.” Which apparently meant, lay down next to this fountain so I can give you a foam massage with a horse tail. If I had to choose one thing to do with out, it would have been that, but nevertheless, it was still wonderful. After another rinsing, she shampooed me up and surprisingly combed my hair! “Lady, you like.” We were shuffled along to an even hotter room to sit for as long as we wanted. Upon leaving the hot rooms, we were given a towel and directed back to our changing cubicles, that also had hair dryers and beds, if we so desired to take a nap.

Step five, don’t you know that the time has arrived. By this point I was so relaxed, it was as if nothing in the world could ever be a problem. We all walked out squeaky clean as if we were floating on air. Ignoring the instructions to go home and rest, we headed to the best kebab house in town. I’m sure ingesting the delicious eggplant-garlic-yogurt combination and an Efes beer was far better than resting. Thank goodness we didn’t bath until our last day (in the Turkish sense) otherwise I would have never overindulged in Apple Tea, been awed by the Ayasofya, crossed the Bosphorus Straight to Asia, been dizzified by the Whirling Dirvishes, learned Rugs 101, discovered the long-armed Ottomans of Topkapi Palace or heard the call for morning prayer.