A Turkish Bath

While I can’t remember a specific source, I certainly had an image of a Turkish Bath. Portly old men, draped only in carpet sized like sheets, sitting in an old marble cavern, sweating profusely in steam thick air. The room is filled with some foreign language, delivered in forceful bursts. The process continues as burly, unshaven guys, scrub their bodies.

That isn’t entirely wrong, but is not how I would describe the experience Bob Wong & I had yesterday. We figured it would be best to do this in the late afternoon. Good thought, since that was getting to the end of the day, but bad thought because that was when the thermometer was reaching its blazing peak.

We were greeted by an attractive young woman who explained our options, and almost understand what we said. We both opted for the full treatment with a therapeutic massage to follow. Buckle your seatbelts; things are going to get interesting.

After changing into a less than generous wrap, we sat in a staging area, as men and women either headed in or staggered out. Welcome to the unisex universe. We were then led into a pentagon, marble walled room, probably 600 square feet and 15 feet high. It felt light, well used, and clean. Around the walls were sinks of water. At the center was an enormous solid stone platform, probably 15 feet in diameter and 3 feet high. I remember noticing the large ruts in the floor used to channel water.

When we came in we joined two very old, very large men who were sitting and talking. Periodically they would scrub themselves, pour large bowls of water over themselves, or lather up. Not far from what I had imagined. Self administered Turkish bath.

We chatted for five minutes in what felt like a summer day in Atlanta. At least as John Houser has described it. (I wonder how far back the Braves are? Did I mention the world champion Giants are leading their division?) Certainly muggy, but not unbearable. Then a young man and woman entered, and motioned us to lay on the table. It was hot. Then came one of the most refreshing experiences I have ever had. Three or four huge dousing of gallons and gallons of water which was just the right temperature. I remember thinking I was in water even though I was on the table. Then came the rub. Using what looked like a coarse glove every inch of my body was scrubbed. I was so into this I didn’t try to look at the detritus, which I have been told is “yucky”. The table seemed to be getting hotter as we were motionless. Our chatting stopped.

I had no sense of time, but soon thereafter came the foam. Bob was adventuresome enough to watch, I was close to sleep. The attendant took some sort of soap and put it in a pillowcase. After spinning it around, the pillow case filled with foam. Then each quarter of your body was covered with these fine bubbles. I am not exaggerating when I say there was probably a 4-6” layer. Like a bubble bath when you put in too much gel. When she did my shoulders and neck, I had to move my head to breathe. More scrubbing. Did I mention the table was getting hotter? I now know what a pancake must feel like.

Another round of water cleansing, in a not too quick manner. It is a good thing we turned over to repeat the steps, as my front was getting very hot. It is also a good thing I didn’t have the deed to our house, as I was completely relaxed and felt like a limp rag, albeit a very limp rag.

When we were tapped it was time to get off the burner, which had become our space. Trying to be discrete we re-wrapped and walked back to the staging area. There were several sensations: hot, as if we had come out of a sauna or steam, very mellow, and glistening, very smooth skin. Even I could feel and see the difference.

The knock punch was ordering a massage to follow. Think of this as a “double”, like two venues of a triathlon of hedonism. It was tough, but someone had to do it.

I have had lots of massages, and this was a pretty good one. I say only pretty good, because I only remember about half of it. Sometime there after my masseuse tapped my shoulder and woke me up.

One final image. I remember my body felt oily, not surprisingly since the masseuse had used plenty of a sweet smelling liquid. I asked the business manager if we should shower, and she said “no”. These were natural oils. In about 10 minutes they had been fully absorbed in our bodies and our skin was soft, shinny, and dry.

I have tried some challenging things in my life. Sometimes I have succeeded. Part of that is knowing your limits. I know if Rob Bond had challenged me to do 5 pushups as I walked back to change, I would have failed.