My First Hammam Experience in Turkey

Getting Scrubbed by an old Turkish Man and Experiencing the Hammam in True Turkish style

Getting myself, scrubbed and foamed and massaged by an old Turkish man in the hammam, with my guide next to me, was a somewhat embarrassing yet unforgettable experience.

Arlina and Weichean had their first taste of Turkish bath in Istanbul. I gave it a miss because of the untimely “auntie’s visit”. My final chance came when we were in Cappadocia. On the last day in Cappadonia, I decided to sign up for the Turkish bath on my own since the cave hotel had no heaters and I had yet to try the traditional Turkish bath.

After dinner, I roamed the streets in search of my Turkish bath. Most of the agencies I approached were unable to arrange the bath session as I was the only participant. I walked up and down the streets and finally managed to book my Turkish bath at Cappadocia Tours, with the help of the owner, Ertan, who was willing to bring me to an authentic Turkish bathhouse, which is about 12km away from Cappadocia, Finally, I thought and I agreed instantly.

“The massage will be done by women right?,” I asked, almost innocently. “No, by men,” he said. “Really? I was shocked, having second thoughts of going to the bathhouse.

“Come on, you are in Turkey. Think about it, the family has been doing the hammam business for many generations. Many Turkish people, women, children and men go there. Don’t worry,” Er-tan reassured me.

“What the heck, do what the Romans do, and now that I’m in Turkey, follow what the Turkish people do”, I thought to myself. “Okay”, I said, “I’ll trust you,” I confided in Ertan and he smiled and nodded, “Thank you, don’t worry, no problem.” I paid the 35 Liras, about S$50 and arranged for him to meet me at 8.15pm at the Nomads Cave Hotel.

I took a slow walk back to the Cappadocia Cave Hotel and went back to the room to get my toiletries. “Hahahaa…somebody is going to pay money to get molested again,” jested Arlina when I told her about the male masseur. “If I don’t come back in one hour, please remember that I’ve arranged for the hammam bath at the Cappadocia Tours,” these were my last words to the gals.

Ertan was 26 years old and he shared his plans to go on a six-month backpacking trip in Southeast Asia, including Thailand, Cambodia, Malaysia and Singapore end this year. I told him about my travel experiences in these countries and told him the taboos in some of these countries, what to look out for, the nice sights to see and all I knew about these places.

We soon reached the hammam. When we first entered the hammam, I was a little hesitant. There were two men, one in his late thirties and another in his sixties and a teenage boy. I was given a checked-cloth to change in, and was directed to one of the changing rooms. Once I came out of the room, the old man locked the changing room, and tied the key to my right wrist.

He brought me to another room, the main hammam room, where there was a small wooden sauna room, a big marble slab/table in the centre, and two rows of taps at the side. There were three men in the room, they took a quick glance at me and continued with their bath activities. I sat next to the taps and doused myself with hot and cold water. Ertan followed shortly. “You can also go into the sauna, just knock on the window if it’s too hot for you,” he said. There were two other teenage boys in the sauna room when I entered. The room was hot but bearable. I stayed there for about 10 minutes before I coming out to pour hot and cold water onto myself. The marble slab in the centre of the room looked very tempting, should I try and experience and lie down there with the rest of the people, or should I just skip it? I had a mental debate and decided that I should lie there just to feel how it was like. The marble floor was surprisingly warm and comfortable. I lied there for a while, counting the number of holes on the top, and breathing in the hot air in the hammam.

Soon, the thirty-something year old hammam staff beckoned me to go to the next room. It was a relatively small room, with the marble slabs on each side of the wall. One Turkish man was having himself foamed and massaged by the old Turkish man. Ertan was very nice, he stood outside the room, and reassured me that he would be waiting for me outside. Within a minute, he got sick of waiting outside, and sat next to me, watching as the man scrubbed the grim and dirt from my body. “I should have a camera here to take photographs”, he joked. “No, I will not allow it, no way,” I retorted, with some embarrassment. After about 10 minutes of scrubbing, which was not as hard as I thought it would be, I was asked to go to the next table, where the old Turkish man was waiting.

I was asked to lie facing downwards as he lathered soup onto my body. It was a hard-to-describe feeling having an old man, a complete stranger, massaging soap onto your body. I kept my eyes open at first and I was confronted with the big bulging stomach of the old Turkish man and his bushy underarms. It was strange to see face-to-face with the Turkish man, looking down at me, with his armpit hair revealed. I tried closing my eyes, but felt a sense of insecurity, thus I decided to keep my eyes open. When he was done with my back, I was asked to turn to the front. I must say that they are very professional. He only “covered” the areas that were exposed and did not attempt to touch the “out-of-bounds” areas at all, and I was thankful for that. So, I decided to close my eyes. The session was soon over and I was asked to go back to the hammam room to take a shower. I went back to the hammam room but couldn’t find the shower room. I decided to just alternate the hot and cold water from the running taps as my shower.

It was a refreshing and a different experience indeed, but I wished they had added more strength and force when they scrubbed and massaged, like the way they treated the Turkish people. Personally, I thought 35 Liras which is approximately about 50 SD dollars, is a pricey price to pay though. I went back to my guest-house, feeling cleansed and ready for a good night’s sleep. Thankfully, I did not have to “combat” the icy water in the Nomads guesthouse that night.