Trip to a Turkish Hammam

I grew up in a small town of 150 until I was 10 years old. This town was so small that when I was 5 years old I sold Christmas cards to everyone in town. I had just learned how to ride my bike. I could ride, but I wasn’t very good at getting started. At each house my neighbor would come out after the transaction was made and give me a push start to the next house. I sold enough Christmas cards to earn my very own record player and speakers. My Dad is a tinkerer. He always had “junk” around that "a guy could" make something out of. Next to his workshop he had a large old truck frame with axles, tires, and steering column, but that was it. My friends and I imagined it was our own personal jet airplane. We traveled all over the world in our jet visiting exotic lands and having exotic experiences. Even in all our imaginings we never imagined anything quite like my day at the Turkish Hammam.

I visited Istanbul for the first time last week with my husband. While there he wanted to take me to the neighborhood Hammam, traditional Turkish bath, he went to last year with our son. This particular hammam was built in 1505. It is separated into a male and female side. We entered and the proprietor escorted me over to the female side. There were three older overweight ladies sitting watching soap operas. They greeted me with a few grunts as they couldn’t speak English and I don’t speak Turkish. They handed me a towel the size of the ones I use to dry my dishes and pointed to the dressing rooms that were all glass from the waist up. I should have realized that this was a foreshadowing of the openness that was to come. I was instructed through more grunts and hand gestures to completely disrobe and to wrap the dish towel around myself as best I could.

I came out and was directed through a thick wooden door into an all marble room. I walked from room to room, but was completely alone, “hello?” I stepped back out to only be motioned back through the door. The middle room was like a sauna. I sat on a marble slab and sweat like I have never sweated before in my life. It was pouring off of me. Just about the time I was wondering if  anyone was ever going to come and find me, one of the ladies came in, turned on the water in one of the marble basins, motioned me over, took my towel from me, hung it up, and instructed me to sit on the step next to the basin and “wash, wash.” She then left. There was a plastic bowl on the edge of the basin so I scooped lukewarm water and poured it over me again and again. I would sit for a while and then “wash, wash” again. It seemed like forever, but it was probably like 15 minutes.

I could hear water running and see suds flowing in the room next to me. After a few minutes my hostess entered in nothing but green granny panties. She had washed herself to prepare for my Turkish bath. She directed me to lie on the marble slab face down. She then proceeded to dry brush all the dead skin off of me with a rough mitt. I need to describe my hostess. She was much larger than the woman pictured above, not so dark, and very well endowed (translation= her breast hung to her waist). As she would scrub me, her bosoms would brush against me. I would have to try and not let my hands cup them as she scrubbed my arms. I have to say I was a little out of sorts. She then turned me over and dry brushed my front. Let me reiterate, I was buck naked! When she wanted me to move she would say, “Hup!” Once she finished my front she had me sit up. She placed my face in her cleavage and then scrubbed the back of my neck and shoulders. With a “Hup!” and a “wash, wash” she sent me back to the step by the basin. While I was rinsing off, she also rinsed off. We are still in the sauna room. She even pulled out the back of her green granny panties and dumped a bowl of water down them. When I was finished she had me return to the marble slab for another round of bosom bump and to be lathered up like I have never been lathered before. I kept sliding allover the marble slab and she would pull me back. Back and front, and sitting with my face in her cleavage, I was lathered and massaged. It was actually quite relaxing if I kept my eyes closed.

“Hup!” back to the step to be rinsed off and then shampooed. She left me to relax and pour water over me from time to time. Talking to my hubby afterwards, I guess there was even a hotter room further back, but I didn't know about it. I was supposed to go back and forth between the super hot and hot rooms. Oh well, I sat there and reflected on my days traveling on Dad’s truck bed. I never could have imagined me here doing this. How did I end up with this life? What more surprises does the Lord have in store for me as I move through this adventure called life?

After a while she returned in a dish towel of her own to let me know my husband was ready to go. She gave me a larger thirsty towel to dry off with and wrap up. I returned to my glass box and changed back into my street clothes. There was a skinny elderly woman preparing for her bath as I left. $25.00 and 2 hours had truly, truly given me an experience of a lifetime.