My first public hammam (surprising, naked and swift) – it was an experience!
Surprising, naked and swift…!
Have you ever found yourself in the middle of a room full of naked people, being scrubbed scrupulously clean?
My first public hammam was definitely interesting and not what I was expecting!
Moroccan public hammams, the National Geographic states, are a place to relax, exfoliate, wash and socialise with friends. They are found in most neighbourhoods and are central to Moroccan culture. Inspired by the Roman baths, hammams are place of purification and before the invention of showers, a place to get rid of the daily grime. The cost is minimal to ensure access for the whole community.
Hammams, I also read, ‘typically have three rooms of increasing temperature’ which allows you gradually to become accustomed to the heat, for your pores to open to exfoliate fully and to relax tired muscles.
So, a couple of days into my arrival in Morocco, in the small city of Taroudant, I was eager to try the local hammam. I love saunas and steam rooms, and my body definitely felt ready to absorb some heat. I knew, it wasn’t to be a luxury spa experience, but as I was driven down the narrow medina alleys, I envisaged myself sitting in a spacious sultry exquisitely tiled room, wrapped in a towel, allowing all my tension to drip away, interspersed with some gentle exfoliating and perhaps a massage.
How wrong I was!
(There’s a lack of images on this post because I obviously didn’t my camera into the hammam, hopefully the description will suffice),
Hammam Reception
On entering the hammam, the reception/changing area reminded me of my old school gym changing room – dingy, hooks on the wall, wooden benches and a rack above for belongings.
The receptionist explained I should buy some savon beldi (a greenish soap made with olive oil) and an exfoliating mitt called a kessa, so I did. You can also buy these items easily in various shops around hammams. I was also given a pair of greying, once white flip flops, as I’d forgotten my own.
You have a choice when visiting a public hammam, you can either do your own exfoliating or pay extra to have a lady do it for you. I felt I wanted the whole hammam experience and as I hadn’t exfoliated for…well quite a long time, I figured it would be a good idea. I also felt the need for someone to guide me and show me the ropes for my first hammam experience.
My attendant, I’m afraid I forgot her name, looked after me from the get-go. She didn’t speak any English; I don’t speak Arabic and my French is poor so there was a lot of miming. Standing in the changing area, she instructed me to take off my clothes. I asked whether I should take off my bikini bottoms which I had worn specially for the occasion, she enquired if I had anything else to change into after my hammam, at which point I realised I hadn’t, so with a swiping motion with her hand she indicated I should remove my bikini, I did so.
Okay, I thought not a problem – as a rule I don’t have a problem with being naked in saunas etc, and I was in it for the whole experience. I just hoped that everyone else would be also! I quickly wrapped my towel around me, thinking that it would stay there until I had fully acclimatised to my new environment.
I was lead though what was quite a dark corridor by the arm, into what I presumed would be the first of the three heated rooms.
Straight to it
With my towel wrapped tight, I entered a warm room filled with about thirty women of varying ages. There were a couple of little girls aged about 3, up to women I would imagine were in their 80s, with all ages in-between. Some were sat on thin benches around the edges, others on little plastic stools and some on rubber mats on the floor. All had two buckets of water by their sides, green soap and exfoliating mitts. It was a hive of activity – soaping, scrubbing, pouring water, chatting, laughter and one of the girls was crying.
At first, I figured that this was perhaps the last room where all the exfoliating took place and I would be led to the relaxing steam room first, but that wasn’t the case.
My attendant lady, who was now only wearing what look like a pair of cut off pyjama bottoms and nothing above her waist, as is common practice in hammams, indicated I should remove my towel, which I did – realising there would be no gentle acclimatisation to full nudity (but thankfully the majority of women were also naked).
Instead, I stood in the middle of the room, with what must have been a very bemused face, trying to look casual, considering where would be the best place to sit and melt into my surroundings. But the room was chocka block. My attendant lady, pulled over a well-used rubber mat to the middle of the room, parked it next to an elderly lady who seemed to be scrubbing her leg with significant gusto and there I sat. I pulled my knees up, wrapped my arms around them looking very much like the new kid on the block.
My nice lady went off to the side of the room and went about filling up buckets of water from a tap, whilst I sat, clearly not knowing where to look. I occasionally looked up, smiled – what did I do? Attempt small talk, offer a ‘bonjour, cava?’ I wasn’t sure, mostly I looked at my knees. I certainly didn’t want to be the weird clueless embarrassed English woman not knowing where to look around lots of naked women hammam – but I was.
The lady next to me, probably feeling my discomfort and lack of hammam know how, showed me with her green soap that I should start lathering it over my body (like everyone else in the room – doh why didn’t I think of that!) With zealous I unwrapped my soap and started lathering up.
My lady returned with two buckets of water and smaller buckets for scooping out. She gently tested the temperature of the water on my skin, and then proceeded the process of scrubbing me with the kessa mitt. First my arms, shoulders, back, legs, feet. She gleefully showed me the muck that was oozing out of my clearly very dirty body. I pulled the face I knew I should pull, indicating my satisfaction at a job well done.
At one point, a couple of women attempted to talk to me, but not knowing Arabic and only a smattering of French, I didn’t understand. They started giggling. My assistant, looked at me, shook her head and indicated ‘crazy’, which the little girl part of me took to mean, they were making fun of me and right back there, I was transported back to the school playground!
Oh my goodness, what is this experience? I asked myself. Is the universe giving me an adult version of childhood unease as some kind of weird therapy! I smiled to myself and chuckled inside at my own insecurities and awkwardness.
My nice lady, whom I felt at this point, had become a little protective over me, continued to scrub and instructed me to move by body into various positions so that she could get to all my grubby spots – arms in the air, so she could do my arm pits, neck up so she could do underneath and so on…Well what can I say, my inhibitions at this point had pretty much gone and when she instructed me to lay on my front, so she could exfoliate the back of my legs and bottom I felt I was beginning to get the hang of things. I could have laid on my front for a while and hoped for a back massage but nope I was told to sit up and so I did.
She was about to begin putting the green soap on my face, when I said no. She cocked her head in surprise, as did the woman next to me, who was now having her back zealously scrubbed by a neighbour. She nodded vehemently that I needed to, presumably imagining my face to be as dirty as the rest of my body. I shook my head and said ‘rouge’ and made itchy motions to explain my poor sensitive face wouldn’t take to kindly to being scrubbed by a harsh hammam mitt. ‘Ahh’ she smiled and proceeded to explain to the woman next to me, who nodded and then offered up her shampoo.
My lady, then washed my hair and as she poured ladles of water over my head, I rubbed my eyes like a squeamish toddler, and as the soapy sudds dripped down my forehead, I felt very much in sympathy with another little girl who was now bawling at having her own face full of soapy sudds.
At this point, after many more buckets of water were poured over my head, it was clear the job was done. I was squeaky clean. I sat crossed legged, feeling quite refreshed, a little bit more liberated and ready to move into the more relaxing heated room to sprawl in my new found cleanliness.
That was not to be.
Marched back to reception
I was told to stand up, my towel magically reappeared and I was led by the arm down through the same dark corridor I entered, into the reception area, soggy and confused.
I sat on the bench still expecting to be took into the relaxing room. I looked up expectant. My newfound friend, now with a top on, looked at me smiling. ‘Good?’ she asked, ‘oui, tres bien’ I answered. ‘Ou est la sauna?’ I asked. She shook her head and retreated back down the dark corridor.
I looked at the time, I’d been in the hammam a total of about 45 minutes. Not quite the relaxing experience I had been expecting.
Embracing the unexpected
Two days into my arrival in Morocco and I’d had my inhibitions stripped away by baring all in front of complete strangers and confronted some squirmish childhood insecurities around being the new girl in the hammam. It sure was an unexpected experience.
This is what I love about travel. Expect the unexpected, be ready to be pushed out of your comfort zone and just embrace what’s in front of you. Who knows what you may discover about yourself and others.
Yes, deluxe spas and private hammams are of course amazing, but once in a while saying yes to the complete unfamiliar is also special. It also gives you an insight into an aspect of community life, that you wouldn’t otherwise see.
Would I go to a public hammam again?
Yes, definitely, but I think next time I will take my own soap and mitt, so I can take my time and relax into the experience more. I’d also look for a hammam with more than one room so I could enjoy the relaxation aspect as well.
Is a private hammam different to public?
Oh yes! Very very different. Private hammams are usually in spas or hotels and offer an altogether more relaxing and luxurious experience (and obviously very private). You can read about a private hammam in the links below.
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What happens in a Moroccan Hammam?