Special Treat: Hammam Guest Blog

Here's a guest blog post from my brother Mike, describing his fascinating experience at a traditional hammam (bathhouse). Unfortunately, we've got no photos to display, but his words paint a great picture. Enjoy!

I had the opportunity of visiting Annie in Casablanca, the North African exotic escape. On the Easy Jet flight from London I dreamed of snake charmers, Arabian carpets and belly dancers. To my great delight, the Hammam experience beat even my best fantasies.

As I inquired with some Morocco-hands into any possibilities available to experience the local Berber flavor, Chris suggested that I go to a Hammam, a Turkish bath, just a block from Annie’s apartment.

So Annie sent me off with minimal instructions: wear boxers (unfortunately I only had briefs but I was right at home with the tighty-whitey French clientele), buy an exfoliating glove at the front desk, “and get the works”.

So I got the works, paid 300 D’s ($35) and went up a flight of stairs to the right, where there was a sign for Hommes, French for “Guys”, I guessed. I entered into a locker-room and was handed a loin-cloth, and was told to disrobe. After I received my locker key and handed over all clothing, I followed the man who was later to massage me (a 6 foot, muscularly endowed black guy) down into the basement.

He handed me a glob of a black tar-like substance which I assumed was soap, and pointed to a shower. After showering I was directed into a steam room where there were a few Frenchmen soaking up the warmth. As I chillaxed, I began to wonder if I had wasted money, I could enjoy a steam bath and shower at the local 24-hour fitness in Austin for a fraction of the cost…

Eventually, another shorter, yet still muscular black guy motioned for me to follow him. In the steam-filled, exfoliating room there were six marble slabs, four of which where occupied by French guys. “The times must be good in Casa”, I thought, “to be able to Hammam at 1pm on a Thursday”. I laid on the marble slab and the exfoliater began to use the glove on me in a rigorous and aggressive pressure. No doubt it was painful but I was willing to pay any price for beauty. “Trust the process”, I prayed. As he scrubbed me raw, a substantial layer of dirt and dead skin began to accumulate. “Wow, I sure am dirty”. This process lasted about 20 minutes, and yes, I did shed a tear or two.

Afterward, I was led into a room with a number of massage tables. I laid on one and the masseuse delicately applied a layer of lotion to my skin that had just recently been scrubbed bare. It was more intimate than I would have liked, but it was a learning experience for me. I observed that I had a completely plutonic reaction to this close-contact, full body sport. This place is strictly business. I was impressed by the professionalism and skill of all who worked there. Then the masseuse shifted gears. He began to exert more strength, until it escalated into a sort of boxing match on my back. After 30 minutes of professional, dignified and skilled massage-pounding I walked out feeling “like I had been a one-legged man in a butt kicking contest”.

At this point, I was no longer concerned about my 300 D payment and I reminded myself to thank Chris later for this stellar recommendation.

But it was not over. I was brought over to another marble slab with a white plastic, saran wrap-like covering. The man reached for bucket and began to apply this greenish, grayish substance to my skin. I knew what it was. I have had enough coastal encounters to know and identify fish when I smell it. The man had applied an elixir of fish guts and seaweed to my skin. I was then covered in plastic and baked in this potion for 10 minutes or so. After uncovering, it seems that another layer of dirt had detoxified and surfaced on my skin from this mixture.

Finally, I was given another glob of soap. I knew what to do from here: into the shower, through the locker room and back to Annie’s apartment… I walked away with a smile on my face, clean as a whistle, so happy to visit my sister Annie in Morocco…