Of Baths And Modesty

Any beach-going American who has traveled abroad knows that we’re actually one of the more modest cultures when it comes to beach attire. Sure, we’re not at the Thai end of the spectrum where respectable women prefer to wear shorts and t-shirt into the water, but we’re also not wildly into topless beaches.

American women seem to have enough hang-ups about their bodies that they adjust their bathing attire throughout their lifetimes to be more and less modest depending on their age, shape and condition. There are great arguments about how this shouldn’t need to be the case and we should all be comfortable however we are. And some part of me supports that.

My American sensibilities say that all people – men and women – should be aware of their ages and body types and accordingly make flattering choices.

Here in Alanya, this is not the consensus.

Modesty is not a virtue of our Russian compatriots at the resort. Sure, I’ve been around and seen many places where Europeans wear very little when sunbathing. I’m used to European men with their speedos. But when it comes to the Russians here, they let everything hang out. Amazingly, 350 pound women wear bikinis leaving you wishing they left a lot more to imagination. And it seems that primarily the middle aged to older men wear speedos. Especially the men who with a lot of guts….

And then, just as interestingly, the younger men and boys very often wear board shorts or similar swim shorts that would have them fitting in just fine at an American beach barbecue. So we know that the concept of actual swim SHORTS does exist.

The question is – where’s the modesty?

The Turks certainly have it. Turkish men usually wear swim shorts – the young ones have board shorts with all the big names including Quicksilver and Billabong. Women seem to wear bathing suits and in some cases, refrain from swimming if they are more traditional.

But modesty takes a whole new turn inside a Turkish bathhouse – known here as a hamam. Anyone who knows Emily knows she can’t resist a good massage. And when massages come in combination with a scrub down, shower, sauna and jacuzzi – there’s no keeping her back. So when we tried our second hamam (a less touristy one priced well enough to attend semi-regularly without shame), a few thoughts came to mind.

First, being bathed by another person is both great and very odd. We were In swimming attire as were most of the foreigners. But Turkish men however, wore cloths akin to a sarong which kinda’ came undone when they were laying face down on the marble slab where scrubbing takes place. In our American paradigm, it’s hard to imagine heterosexual men enjoy a good scrubbing by another man, let alone the foam sudsing and bath that follows. But here, it is truly no big deal.

What was a bigger deal to me is how servile an act scrubbing and bathing another person is. The idea of going In for what seemed like a spa treatment didn’t require a second thought. But once someone was scrubbing behind my ears or across my abdomen, I realized how odd and overly intimate the process was. And even more so when another person literally dried me down with a towel. I think I was four years old the last time that happened.

The hamam bathing experience harkens back to Roman bathhouses which is how the tradition came to Turkey in the first place. And in a sense, it gives you a taste of what it must have been like to be a patrician being tended by servants.

And while in a sense, I get the appeal (because who wouldn’t rather have their shoulders massaged with very nice smelling soap and bubbles before being rinsed down gently with warm water instead of jumping in the shower with a bar of dial), it was too much for me. I’m not so comfortable having someone dry me down like I’m a lord to be served. If I can’t manage the affairs of washing my own stomach, then what can I do?

Still, I recommend it for anyone who hasn’t had the experience.

P.S Turkey’s great – fantastic honeymoon. More tomorrow.

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