Having spent most of my childhood participating in athletics, I am not squeamish about locker rooms. That was until I went to the Orbeliani Baths in Tbilisi. Having read in the guidebook about the public sulfur baths, I figured it was a great way to relax and unwind, plus we had skipped the hamam in Turkey anyway. Through a series of hand gestures, we determined the entrance fee was about $1.50, a scrub was less than $3 and a massage was less than $5. Excellent. I figured I’d give myself the whole treatment.
I’m not sure how exactly to describe the locker room. While the exterior of the building was richly decorated in blue intricately designed Persian style tiles, the interior was starkly utilitarian. Stamped with individual numbers, unpainted lockers lined the wall of the dimly lit room. Handing over my ticket to three women playing cards at the front, I began to arrange myself in a locker when a women approached me talking quickly in Georgian. From her uniform, or rather lack there of, I determined that she probably worked there, but all I could understand out of her mouth was massage and scrub. Nodding my head vigorously, I repeated scrub and massage. Before I could protest she and another employee began to grab at me in a grandmotherly let me show you how this is done sort of way. Awkward to say the least, I felt rather exposed and vulnerable as they practically pushed me down the steps into a sulfurous room.
Pushing me under the shower, the “head” lady turned on a stream of sulfur water above my head and motioned for me to rinse myself. Standing there somewhat bewildered I took a moment to compose myself and nearly laughed out loud. Just go with it I thought. Yelling at me, the lady motioned for me to come over to the “treatment” bench where she literally scrubbed me raw. Astonished at the layer upon layer of dead skin coming off me, she yelled for the other women in the room to come see the freakish tourist. Surrounded by Georgian women in a steaming sulfurous room as my body was literally scrubbed raw isn’t exactly my idea of fun, but there wasn’t much I could do. Treating me like a doll, the scrubber lady pulled at my arms and legs ensuring that not a speck of dirt remained anywhere on me. By the time we got to the massage, my skin was bright red and frankly I was a bit terrified.
Massage means different things to different people, and mine basically consisted of torturous elbows and slaps on my back which seemed to be methodical. After cracking almost every joint in my body, the torture was over and I actually felt rather like putty. Emerging from the sulfur bath back into the harsh reality of the locker room I quickly changed and got the heck out of there, but not before I had to answer a dreaded question- where are you from? America I replied. “America! America!” the women repeated over and over again, almost like a toast. “Ciao” they called after me.
Intimate cultural experience? You can bet it was, and as I greeted Danny outside I actually heard myself tell him that it was “good” and I’d definitely do it again. Painfully relaxing I suppose.
Gllian says
Hee hee hee…totally reminds me of my experience at the Turkish Bath. Definitely not how we do things at home!
Jillian says
@ Gillian- I remember reading your post, very similar experiences for sure. The real question, would you do it again?
Pam Beloff says
It is amazing how much dead skin we usually wear. Sounds like the best body exfoliation you’ll ever get!
Jillian says
@ Pam- Certainly the most…errr… abrasive.
Dad McKnight says
Just read the blog and tears were running down my check. They were tears created from the humorous description of your adventure at the sulfur bath. I am certain that the farewell chant “ciao” brought a smile to your face as you were leaving.
Jillian says
@Dad- the farewell did bring a smile to my face. I’ll admit, I did go back!
Ally Gibbens says
You mean you have given up on your pumis stone? I still have the one I bought in Africa…but don’t really need it in NY.
Your experience of the baths sounds brilliant! I can only imagine how someone less worldly would react 🙂
Jillian says
@ Ally- the sudanese stone left me in Austria, but i replaced it in istanbul. i wish you had been at the baths to laugh with!
Aaron says
When Alexis and I went for a Turkish Bath treatment on our honeymoon, the Russian masseuses had trouble clearing out the Turkish bath. So while lying on a ten-by ten marble slab in the center of the room, a Japanese tourist climbed in between us. Yes, you read that correctly.
If the fact that we had Russian masseuses at a Turkish bath does not shock you, the Japanese woman should. She did get up an leave after a few minutes, but between that and the Indian man trying to take pictures of the bath with Alexis and I wearing wash cloths, it was not the spa experience we expected.
Keep the updates going, and I hope things are going well.
Jillian says
@ Aaron- She got between you? Taking pictures? Dear god, where did you go? Nightmare. At least there were no photo’s at mine! I would have died of humiliation.
Grandma Alma says
Jillian,,
I went to a Hamam in Istanbul, was given a very small piece of linen cloth to cover a very big me. After dampening it, stretching it and pulling it to make it longer, I gave up and threw all options to the winds. The defoliation process was painful, and then I met the masseur whose hands were as big a very large tennis racquets and I kept screaming no, no, and I guess that meant yes, yes. He kept it up and kept rolling me in that very small square of linen and at last, the procedure was finished and so was I. Great Memory. Grandma Alma