|
 The
Gilded Serpent presents...
Kayla's
Travels in Turkey
Turkish
Bath/Hamam 2
April 2002
by Kayla Summers
 Here
is round two:
Ok
ladies, it’s another Sunday, and another bathing adventure! I am still at the “Best Deal in the World Hotel”
(the divine “Hotel Flamingo”) located five minutes
off of the tourist trail on the tram line that runs you to all the
“sights”. It is blessedly quiet and I have a small room,
clean bed, private bathroom, television with cable (for BBC fans)
a telephone, a mini-fridge (that you can stock full of the delicious
goodies you will buy along your own adventures), maid service. The room fee includes a free breakfast of fresh
bread, two types of locally made fresh cheese, cucumbers, tomatoes,
olives, packets of butter, sour cherry jam, honey, coffee or tea…
not to mention all the water and “Tang” you can drink!
They also include an over-boiled egg in a cute eggcup, which
I encourage you not to touch.
I’ve done it enough times, (ya know--
empirical testing… Urp!) All this for the unheard of price of thirteen dollars
U.S.,
or a better deal: eighteen million Lira
per night. (A week’s worth
of laundry usually cost me $1.50.) So, now I’ve given them a well-deserved
plug, which I’m not sure they appreciate.
I return to the Hamam (Turkish
Bath) mission.
I chose, “The Tahriri Park
Hamam”, which, although it had a sign
indicating it was a bathhouse, when I entered there were a lot of
raised eyebrows and amused smiles!
Inside, there were mostly men in towels...
One dressed man (who was on his way out) told me in Turkish
that this was for men only, something the
guidebook didn’t bother to share.
I confirmed the name, the hours, etcetera, “Yes, yes, but not
for women!” Some of the men
joked: …if I really wanted to... but I opted out.
The man, directed me to the bathhouse I had previously attended,
last week. On my way out, I told him I needed a different
bathhouse so he directed me to the “Cagaloglu”,
prounced ‘Cha-olu’
(sorta; there is a trick with the g’s).
It is a mere three hundred years old, built in 1741 by Sultan Mahmut, and the proceeds from its income were directed to
his library. Nowadays it’s used for a lot of films, “Indiana Jones”,
for one. (They boast of 138 television films.) You can  decide
on a range of services, from “Do-it Yourself”
to “The Works”. Naturally, I went for The Works. It was rather expensive: 39 million Lira, or
30 bucks, but hey, I’m here!
This
time, instead of a locker room, the women issue you a key to a small
room with a bed, nightstand, and colored glass windows for semi-privacy. I disrobed there, was given the big towel, and
issued some wooden sandals like Japanese clogs, and I was issued to
the next room. I passed marble
benches and showerheads that were jutting out of the wall, flowing
water, into the marble gutters on the floor. (Maybe the gutters were
used for over-flow). I entered into the main room, which was also
a circular room, made entirely of marble, mostly light colored, with
smaller darker tiles used to form intricate patterns. Arches and pillars
surround the room. There is
a circular marble platform over which is the domed ceiling, with many
holes and  star
shapes cut into it, giving the room an incredible, bright and natural
light, (explaining the film interest). There were marble basins along
the walls, where I was instructed to pour the warm water over myself,
using a gleaming, copper bowl. Then,
I was told to go to the heated, circular marble platform to warm up.
I could feel, my pores opening, and my muscles loosening I laid there
for about ten minutes, doing some easy yoga stretches. A group of
Japanese women were there, and they were also tentatively pouring
water over themselves. (They got the “Do It Yourself” tour), laying
on the platform, (after my example). The giggled, the cute way they do.
As
they left, the Italian group arrived. (I think they received “The
Semi-assisted Tour”.) We all
lay there another five minutes. Next,
the washing women entered with pillows that they slapped down on the
marble. The Italians were taken first.... Yes, I was
a little peeved, but I felt the slapping of the pillows on the platform
was an ominous sign. I was
hoping for a more sympathetic washing woman. From the exclamations
of the Italians when the water was poured over them, my suspicions
were confirmed that it was a less than comforting temperature. I imagine
that it was too cold, from their reactions. I began to reconsider
this bathhouse, but usually when I hang in, things work out well.
Sure
enough, an old woman came in, with two buckets (The Works!). She scolded
the others. (I don’t know why,
but rather harsh words were exchanged, and she had the last one.) She motioned for me, to lie down lengthwise,
along the marble’s edge. To be honest, I was a little hesitant, I
didn’t know if the fight was finished ... She sat down beside me,
and began the scrub, professionally, gently, and firmly. I had bathed
beforehand, (scrubbing) and still she removed loads of dead skin!
She told me to go rinse myself off, with the copper bowl. While I
did, she rinsed the platform. Returning to the platform, I laid on
my back. She started to soap
me, rubbing me down. It became
a great massage, focusing on my feet.
I think the pillow, which I found too high, was used to keep
one from slipping. I would slip on the platform, and she would pull
me back, making me laugh. Sliding around on the platform, she started
laughing too. I was instructed, to rinse off again, and return to
the platform, the Italian group was leaving, perhaps a little angry
(with hands on their hips). We were having too much fun!
 …Anyway,
back on the platform, my washing woman began a slow massage, sometimes
using… (I don’t know what)? It was like limp, straw whisk and, rubbing
with it created bubbles. (Goodness, I’m a sucker for bubbles!) I received
a truly fantastic massage lasting about twenty minutes. We didn’t begin talking ‘til she massaged my
arms, and I told her in Turkish, I was a yoga teacher. She seemed delighted that I knew some Turkish. She told me about her children (She has five,
one a doctor.). I rinsed,
myself off once again; then I came to her fountain, where I sat below
her. She washed my hair, (three times!), my face,
behind my ears--still doing a massage of my neck, she rinsed me off,
entirely, with warm water gently poured.
Giving me, back the towel, she wished we,
in Turkish, “Saatler olsun!” (May it last
forever!).
I returned to the lobby and my little cubicle to dress. A woman came by offering water, tea, etc. (for
a price) from which I deferred, knowing where I could score a huge
glass of the fresh O.J. for half the price.
They
do have some brushes, blow dryers, and mirrors to help you get yourself
together and prepare to go.
Now
here is the criticism: the bathhouse smells of mildew. “Now, now!” (I imagine
you might say) I know it’s hard to stop mildew in a three hundred
year old steam room, but I cite the Cermberlitas
that does not smell of it.
I suspect it may have something to do with the beautiful, incredible,
bright, natural lights (as any aquarium owner can tell you). Briefly,
your intrepid bather, while staring at the ceiling, began reminiscing,
old nursing school lectures about airborne microbes... fungal infections.
They do keep the room and platform, scrupulously clean
(to Swedish standards), and all those icky things need a place to
stay, undisrupted in order to flourish. I felt relatively safe,
and will keep you posted!
The
tacky part of my experience was in the middle of the heated marble
platform. There was a big urn,
and sticking out of it was an algae covered block of Styrofoam, with
some fake Philodendron leaves crowning the top. I was glad it did
not dangle down, thus raising the fungal possibility higher.
Also,
I hate to sound cheap but: for the amount of money that they charge,
they could hire less sadistic bathing women. (Mine, the Queen Mother,
was wonderful, but the Italians were definitely unhappy campers.)
I would have enjoyed free water or tea, and felt that there
should have been more service in the lobby room.
I got my own fresh towel (as none was being offered) from the
huge pile, and I was not using the original issue. Other than that,
it was still a fantastic experience, which leaves me eager to try
another.
Signing
off,
Metro-femme
Have
a comment? Send us a letter!
Check the "Letters to the Editor"
for other possible viewpoints!
Ready
for More?
More from Kayla-
8-14-02
Kayla’s
Travel Journal -Ferry to Kadikoy; Kayla’s Furniture Safari
by Kayla Summers
Muslim women in full dress (but no mask) were “high fiving”
each other
7-19-02 Kayla
in Turkey, (A Daily Journal) Turkish Bath House (Hamam 1) April
22, 2002,
All my Turkish girl friends, had of course been to Hamams, but only
in their youth,
9-5-02 Interview- Soraya of
Oklahoma City by Lynette
Shani had learned by going to watch the belly dancers at
the Round Table after working as a ‘twister’ at the Peppermint
Lounge”.
|
