Soap on a Feather Boa
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Some of the most memorable Hamams (Turkish baths) at the old city of Sultanahmet in Istanbul were designed and built by the city’s greatest Ottoman architect, Mimar Sinan. In fact, the Lady Hürem Baths, opposite the Hagia Sophia was the steamy spot where Roxelana, (Lady Hürrem, the first kadin of Sultan Süleyman the Magnificent), did her evil plotting and planning to oust the other lesser wives.
As luck would have it, I was still able to duck into one of the functioning Hamams built by Sinan. At Cemberlitas, they gave me a plaid red-white cloth to wrap my disturbingly hairless body, which must have given the Arabic masseurs a start, especially when combined with my lengthy mane. I was surprised I didn’t send whole stampedes of Muslim men* tearing out of the locker rooms screaming in confusion.
When it came time to prep myself to be manhandled on the raised marble plinth, I folded the plaid towel halfway up my thighs and sashayed out onto the hararet, causing more scandal than the Eunuch who once proclaimed to the harem girls that he was, indeed, “all that.” What could I do? I felt homesick!
While all the men pretended to be horrified - in that sheep’s glance way, you know: the disgusted-but-can’t-quite-look-away way - I announced that I have most certainly detected a very large pole in evidence.
I was referring to the Cemberlitas Column, just outside our Hamam, of course.
Next, a stocky Arabic man in his forties came over and ordered me on the marble platform. He took a handful of my towel, and snapped it back down over my thighs. Then the beatings began. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve always found pleasure in half-naked older men barking instructions and ordering me around in a foreign tongue. This one he kneaded my bony elongated smooth limbs into tizzy to boot. Some of his drills included: “Go here!” (scrubs soapy mitt all over my body) “Sit down there!” (pours hot spa water over my head) “Back here on your stomach” (massages dangerously up one leg and then up the other) “Now turn around on your back, face up!”
Btw, does anyone know how to say in Turkish: “Umm, I don’t think that’s a good idea right about now” ?
All in all, I felt like a little kid being bathed by my daddy. It was lots of fun. I just wished my attendant had followed me back home so he could hand me my stuff animal, tuck me into bed and give me a goodnight kiss.
November 17th, 2005 at 5:40 pm
You make a surprisingly fine travel writer.
I do wish I could say something witty or interesting other than I’ve been enjoying your travels.