Istanbul —
Cocooned in the warm embrace of the hamam, sounds are muffled. Gentle light from oculi, “eyes” in a large dome overhead, etches patterns across the marble surfaces below. Running water and softly dripping taps lap at the edges of consciousness like a lullaby.
In the steamy, almost mystical atmosphere of a Turkish bath, the world stands still.
Going to a hamam is very different from being in your bathroom at home, or even in a private room at a day spa when it’s just you and your therapist.
“In a bath or shower you are alone but a hamam is a public space,” says Ahmet İğdirligil, architect and expert on the culture and history of Turkish baths. “It is a social place and a unique place in history for women to be social outside of their houses without needing permission.”
I