The Hamam

It was another scorching hot day when my host sister, Ilham, suggested we visit a Hamam. I had heard about hamams but I was not entirely sure what I was getting myself into at the moment. The day before Ilham had purchased many spices and rubs at the market which she confirmed were for the Hamam.

We loaded the car with 4 large buckets, 2 boxes full of soaps and scrubs, and a bag full of our clothes and towels. Myself, Alfe, Ilham, and Ilham’s niece were then dropped off at the public Hamam that the often family visits. It is normal for Moroccans to visit a Hamam multiple times per week- sometimes every day in the colder months.

For 12 dirham (roughly $1) we were in for a unique and wonderful bonding experience. We walk into the Hamam entrance with women lying around and getting undressed. The first room seemed similar to that of a typical women’s changing room- tiled floor, steaming hot, and people taking off their clothes. Ilham and her niece nonchalantly begin to undress and were soon fully nude. The rest of us follow along and realize that we were about to become very close very fast.

We were then led into the Hamam and you knew immediately because of the temperature increase. I was afraid of the possibility to pass out- it is very hot and I had been fighting a sickness- so cold water was a necessity.  We hang our towels along a hooked wall and move into the second steam room. There on the floor sit a mother and her daughter- also naked. We set up mats on the concrete floor and fill up our buckets with steaming water from one of the many spouts that stuck out from the walls. The interior was very simple- concrete floor, clean white tiles with blue accents, and high, open ceilings. It seemed like one large shower.

Ilham hands each of us some body scrub made from henna paste, herbs, and flowers which she demonstrates that we cover our bodies with. I was intrigued as my skin turned to dark. It was normal to ask for one of the others to cover me in an area I couldn’t reach.  After letting this dry for about 20 minutes we rinse it off and begin phase two. We were each then handed a rough-faced glove. I began to rub my arms and wasn’t seeing any major effect. I then look at Ilham who is rubbing her arms much harder and I follow suit. To my amazement the gloves were working their magic. So much dead skin was being rubbed off of me that it became an addiction. It nearly felt like an hour went by and I was still finding new areas where that needed further scrubbing.

Many rinses later it was time to start the final cleaning. Ilham and her niece had decided to wash their hair (Alfe and I decided not to) and were rinsing out a clay paste they had let sit around their roots. Alfe and I rinse one last time with a mild soap and head out to get changed.

I had never felt so clean and so comfortable around others while being so vulnerable. The experience was truly incredible and unique. Even though I was slightly apprehensive about what to expect it is something I would do again. Moroccans know how to live, especially with dedicating over 2 hours to bathing themselves.