Meraba!
My anne took me to my first hamam, a Turkish bathhouse. Not just any hamam, either. This hamam was located in a 300 year-old Ottoman building, in Ulus, a 20 minute dolmuş (public transit in the form of a minibus) ride away from my home in Gaziosmanpaşa. We walked through two sets of doorways, and into a large gathering room called the camekan, where women were sitting and chatting. My anne introduced me to the woman who would be giving me my body rub-down and massage. Her name was Kiraz, which means cherry, and her strength and seriousness intimidated me a little bit. We were shown to a cubicle, where we undressed, slipped on a pair of sandals, and gathered our towels, soap, wash saucers and scrubbies. Beyond the camekan, we entered the bathing area, where water was flowing on slick marble floors. We shared a side room with a mother and her young daughter. My anne filled her wash saucer with water from our basin and proceeded to dump water all over the place. It was a way to make sure the area in which were about to wash was clean. At this point in time, I began thinking about the amount of water flowing down the drains at the cost of my cleanliness. When it was time for my rub-down and massage, Kiraz found me and brought me to the great marble slap called the göbektaşı (belly stone) beneath the great central dome. She scrubbed me down with a kese (a course cloth mitten), loosening all the dirt and grime I’ve collected over the years. I think I was dirtier than most, from the funny look my anne gave me. She kept saying “Caitlin very dirty”. Then came the massage, which was absolutely wonderful. You’ll have to get one yourself and tell me what you think afterwards. I have never felt so clean in my life. I gave Kiraz two liras for a tip, she smiled at me, and I decided she’s very good at what she does.

At least in my family, breakfast is a big deal on the weekends. My anne and I went over to her brother’s home Sunday morning. We sat around the table, eating bread and simit (circular bread) with eggs, cheeses, fruit preserves, a spicy tomato-based dish, honey, and vegetables, and drinking çay (tea) for a good two hours. I played for the rest of the afternoon with my anne’s 4 year-old nephew Deren. His name means the base of a mountain, while his brother Doruk means summit. I reverted to making silly faces because I didn’t know what he was saying most of the time. We were best buds by the end of the afternoon.