return to infancy

The idea that showering everyday is a prerequisite for cleanliness is very much a Western one I’ve discovered. Here, it’s not so much a question of how often you shower, but rather how hard you scrub. How I learned this concept…well that’s an interesting story.

During our orientation week, the public baths, or hammams, were mentioned quite a few times as one of those Moroccan experiences we would have to try out. My initial impression was of a less glamorous spa with a large hot tub and bathing suits, but what our academic directors described was more like a nude exhibition in a sauna. A couple of weeks passed by after that first week and various girls came to school with stories of their hammam experiences with sisters, mothers, cousins. I got a little curious and finally this past Sunday I decided I would check it out myself and see these public baths firsthand. I should add that we’re doing a project on the hammam culture as part of our field study class and so my expedition had academic undertones as well. ;)

Unlike the other girls in my group, neither my mother nor my sister could accompany me on my trip to the hammam. My mom was on her period and my sister was in the middle of watching a Bollywood film I bought for her. So, I decided to brave it alone…sort of. Before getting there, my mom assured me that everything would be alright because one of the women at the hammam would show me the ropes and make sure that I was taken care of. I would just have to give her fifty dirhams afterwards as a thank you. Once we got there, all my impressions of bathing suits seemed like a not too funny joke. My mother told me to strip down to my underwear (no bra) and then, clutching a towel tightly against my naked body I entered the world of the hammam.

My companion, the one who would show me the ropes, turned out to be a short-haired, large-breasted, big tummy woman who snatched the towel from my death grip and told me to sit down. I obliged. I made the mistake of fidgeting with my underwear and she ordered me to remove them as well. So, yeah…I was completely nude. She then proceeded to soap every part of my body leaving out only the really private one which I gladly took care of myself. Using a black glove that’s anything but gentle, she scrubbed off every ounce of dirt and dead skin from my body (I’m not exaggerating, the dead skin was falling off in clumps). When she wanted to get my back, I curled up into the fetal position and clenched my teeth while she scraped down my rear side (yes, all of it) with the sandpaper glove. Then, with scalding hot water she rinsed me off. Following my lather, scrub, rinse session I sat in a steam room, to nab a few relaxation minutes before I left. As a final departing note, the woman grabbed one of the large tubs filled with water and dumped the entire thing over my head. I’d say I definitely got my fifty dirhams worth.

My thoughts and notes about the experience:

-The nudity’s not so bad. After the initial shock I realized I was in a room with all kinds of naked women and got over my own exposure.

-Everyone watches everyone. It’s very much a part of the culture here to observe other people.

-As one of the few place meant exclusively for women (they have separate ones for men), the hammam is sort of a sacred female space. It’s where they come to hang out with their friends, chat about the latest gossip and spend some time on themselves.

-Being scrubbed down by another person (once you get over the awkwardness of it) is actually quite nice. My hammam buddy got the spots I might normally have missed and the whole bathing experience felt like a comfortable return to infancy.

Overall, I give it two thumbs up. If you’re ever in Morocco, try out the public baths.