Gender Inequalities?
For the most part any gender inequalities that exist do not affect the western tourist. Every once in a while I put on a head scarf to better fit in, but that always seems more of a novelty than a burden. My experience on the female side of the Turkish bath, however, was quite a disappointment.
Steve returned from his bath (we took turns so that someone always had the stuff) aglow with stories of saunas, steam rooms, thorough scrubs, and a massage unlike any he’d ever imagined. My back is famously achy and I practically ran to the bath anticipating chiropractic relief.
The women didn’t seem very happy to see me, but reticently sent me into the bath. I admit it was wonderfully steamy and beautiful-like a marble tub the size of a small cathedral. There was no sauna but that I didn’t mind. A lady finally came in and started scrubbing me all over. This part was on par with Steve’s description. She removed dirt I never knew I had. Seriously, rolls of dirty skin cells were visably falling off. It was a bit painful–lıke being scrubbed with steal wool–but satisfyıng. Then she rubbed soap over me ever-so-lightly, scrubbed my hair with hand soap (which later left it feeling like straw and my imagining a bald bride), dumped bucket after bucket of water over my head (some of which I guess I accidently swallowed in my desperate gasps for air because I later had my first real bout of Ataturk’s Revenge), and then proclaimed “Finish!”. No back cracks, no kneading hands, no revelations.
At least I was clean!