Hamam - The Turkish Bath

What to do on a rainy day in Istanbul? Go to the Modern Art Museum! Topkapi Palace! Shopping in the Bazaar! But today was exceptionally dreary. In fact, it made not want to go away more than 100 meters from the house. And what did I spot within that distance from the house? A tiny little hamam that was also catering for women. Very low key and inexpensive as I'm not finding myself in a touristic area. So I decide that this place is where I'm going to spend my afternoon.
Upon entrance, this is pretty much what I see:


Only this place is tiny, like I said, and there's NO MEN in there. It's females only. All the ladies beckon me to come in and one of them explains me what the prices are. Ten lira for the hamam and another ten for keşe (washing) and massage. From previous visits I remember I have to keep my knickers on: first occasion I -unknowingly - walked in exposing myself and this was NOT appreciated.
An old lady takes me to the steam room where I'm left for a while with a plastic bowl. Immediately the heat is going to my head so I automatically start pouring luke warm water over myself. I observe these days it is allowed to expose one's privates: a couple of women are not wearing their underwear and nobody seems to mind at all. I'm surrounded by women who busy themselves with washing their hair, scrubbing one another's back, clipping their toe nails and chatting a lot! The ceiling is high so it sounds pretty loud..
When the old lady comes back in she invites me to lie down on the hot stone in the middle of the room. As soon as I'm on my back she starts to scrub my skin with a rough wash cloth. This is not for the tender hearted: she's rubbing so hard that the skin peels off in little black rolls. This is a quite familiar phenomenon for hamams: people usually can't believe they're that dirty, but usually they don't clean themselves that thoroughly... Front, back, legs and arms. After that, she washes all the dirt and grime away and I'm left by myself for a while again. She comes back asking the other women in the room for some shampoo; you're supposed to bring your own here which I haven't done. She makes me sit in front of her on the floor to wash my hair. This makes me laugh: back to the days where I was a very little girl with my gran! Than back on the hot stone again. Time for some soft washing. I like this bit, as they use lots and lots of foam. It is collected in a long, hollow washing cloth after which you disappear under it! I love the traditional product that is used, a soft green soap smelling of roses. I'm being washed and while some of my muscles are being squeezed. She leaves again and this time doesn't come back.. When I decide enough is enough - after all, how much heat can a person take? - I find her near the entrance. We're finished. Somehow disappointed about the massage, though I should be ashamed of myself: an old lady like that doing such labour in that temperature! Ofcourse I leave very clean and very relaxed.

Bliss.

İ surely am a sucker for books with a good story. Books in general are indispensable in life. Books are one's best friend: at a very early age İ learned that with a book, you're never lonely. With age, İ seemed to loose the ability to loose myself in a story a bit. Why? Perhaps age. The world around holds astonishes me far less than it used to. And so does a story. With some exceptions. İsabel Allende, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Yashar Kemal, to name a few. And İ have to admit that the first two episodes of the Harry Potter saga had me under their spell. That is, until İ got fed up with Quidditch...

Now Bliss. İ got a hold of this book by Livanelli in Çeşme. İn a country such as Turkey you can't be too picky when looking for a non Turkish book, so İ though "why not?" And a good choice it was, especially since one of my goals for this vacation was read, read, read. İ couldn't put this one down!



Livaneli is not famous for his writing alone, but also as an accomplished musician and film director. A politically engaged one for that matter. During the coup of 1971he was incarcerated and after that lived in exile in Sweden, France and Greece for years, only to return to his native country Turkey in 1984. To my (Dutch) opinion this isn't a political book, but it's undeniably there all the time: political contrasts between people. As an independent member of parliament Livaneli must surely know what can/cannot be said.

Meryem is only an innocent fifteen year old girl when her uncle, a prominent leader of a dervish order first rapes her and then, as the leader of the clan, sentences her to death for shaming the family. His son Cemal, suffering from posttraumatic stress after returning from fighting the PKK during his militairy service in the far east of the country is appointed to carry out the act. İnitially he doesn't see any problem in acting out this honor killing, but at the 'moment supreme' finds himself unable to do so. There's nothing left to do for the two of them but to flee together.
This takes them to the Aegean Coast where this strange duo, that absolutely cannot communicate with one another meets the professor. He manages to get Meryem out of her shell, but also represents a world that causes for Cemal to withdraw even further within himself and his memories. The three main characters will influence one another's destinies in a way that none of them could have imagined. Personally, İ found it very gratifying that the one that didn't seem to have a life ahead of her ends up as the only one living in bliss.

Read it! İ will definitely try and get a hold of the film upon return..
www.livaneli.net