A hammam, called a Turkish bath by Westerners, is a place of public bathing involving a steam bath with accompanying rituals, that is associated primarily with the Islamic world. Ottoman Turks adapted the Roman bath concept to Turkish baths and called them hammams. Hammams are a vital part of Middle Eastern and North African societies, serving as communal bathing spaces, offering a refuge for relaxing, socializing and ritual cleansing.

In Turkey, bath houses remain an important gathering place for cleansing, connection and conversation. They are common in Istanbul and many are quite opulent and spa-like, housed in buildings of historical significance.

The hammams I visited in Istanbul were in grand settings that catered primarily to tourists and Istanbul’s elite. The experience was luxurious and culturally significant for me, and the locals who worked there confirmed that hammams continue to serve as vital gathering places in their communities, especially for women.

In accordance with Turkey’s primarily Muslim culture, men and women at these hammams usually are strictly separated in the facilities. Children under six years of age typically are permitted to accompany their mothers to hammams. I suspect it is more common to see children with their mothers in more rural or less fancy hammams, since I saw none on my visits to hammams in Istanbul, and neither did the travelers I interviewed.

Hurrem Sultan Hammam sits between the famed Hagia Sofia Grand Mosque and the Blue Mosque, in the most popular tourist area in Istanbul. It was designed by Mimar Sinan, the chief Ottoman architect, and built in the 16th century at the request of Hurrem Sultan, the wife of Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent. The Hammam’s location is where the ancient public baths of Zeuxippus used to stand in 532 AD. Its classical Ottoman period bath style building was the largest hammam that Sinan designed. It was an innovation in Turkish architecture to have the separate sections for men and women constructed on the same axis, separate, but facing each other.

At the equally impressive Kilic Ali Pasa Hamami, which was constructed in 1580 to serve the marine forces in the Ottoman Navy, women must leave the hammam at a certain time when it converts to serve only male clients. Kilic Ali Pasa Hamami’s impressive main dome is among the largest hammam domes in Istanbul. It is one of the symbolic buildings in Tophane, Istanbul’s harbor district, and is part of a complex adjacent to a mosque. Light streams through the center of the dome and small openings in the dome’s walls that bathe the main room and lounge with an enchanting softness.

Both hammams I experienced in Istanbul were serene, luxurious and expensive, by Turkish standards. Well-heeled Turks and foreigners like me were the clientele observed. Turkish locals told me stories of hammams in rural areas and outside typical tourist areas, in which women conspired to matchmake among their children, gossip, bond and complain about their husbands. It was a place of retreat for these women, reminding me of Anita Diamant’s popular book, The Red Tent, a deeply affecting story of women’s lives in biblical times, whose title refers to the place where women were sequestered during their cycles of birthing, menses and illness and shared stories.

One enters a hammam, disrobes in a dressing room with storage areas for one’s belongings, and leaves one’s modesty at the door. Guests are guided to dressing rooms to don a pestamal, which is the classic hammam wrap, like a towel. Some guests opt to wear bathing suits underneath or, at least, bikini bottoms, but that is not customary among Turkish people. Each guest is assigned a special attendant donned in a pestamal herself, who assists the guest throughout the experience and to which one should feel free to communicate about one’s comfort level with all aspects of the visit. To relax and soften one’s skin and open one’s skin pores, guests recline on a gobektasi, a large heated slab of marble in the steam room prior to bathing.

A traditional hammam experience includes a Turkish bath in a warm steam infused room, typically designed so light rays filter into this area, illuminating the steam. The rituals of being washed and scrubbed by an attendant of the same gender with a handwoven washcloth, glove or mitt known as a kese, a foaming soap wash and a massage are deeply cleansing and rejuvenating. Some consider the ritual a spiritual experience. The exfoliation of one’s skin takes place next to the kurna, a marble water basin, after which warm water is poured from bowls over one’s body. Feelings of purification after this ritual usually result.

The bathing rituals often take place on the sides of the warm steam infused room, sometimes in wings off of the main room, or with marble panels providing a sense of privacy, but most are within view of others present. I observed some Western clients’ discomfort when being bathed naked in front of others. I personally felt as if I were a small child once again, being taken care of by a loving maternal woman when she scrubbed my body and then softly applied the bubble wash as I lay on the warm marble stone. I meditated while being washed, thinking of my physical body only as a vessel, to alleviate any awkward feelings stemming from my societal upbringing.

After the scrubbing, in which dead skin cells surrounded my feet, and foam wash thereafter, my skin felt baby soft. Massage services and hair washing are optional additions. The hammam attendant also gifted me with scented personal care products and a new kese to take home with me. Using a kese at home, however, is not like having an experienced attendant exfoliate one’s body, as you might imagine.

Those who use the hammam services are invited to relax post-bathing in the lounges, in which refreshments are offered. Guests typically can enjoy the ambiance of the hammam in the sofa-lined lounge for as long as desired. I enjoyed conversations with women from all over the world in these lounges.

Back in the lounge section, many hammams will serve visitors a glass of sherbet, Ottoman-style juice, or a cup of Turkish tea. Resting in the post-bath lounge allows your body to return to its regular temperature and, perhaps, to engage in conversation with others in a beautiful, tranquil atmosphere. Following my treatments at Hurrem Sultan Hamam, I was treated to Ottoman sherbert, containing various fruits, spices and herbs. It was presented to me as specially prepared to cool down and balance blood sugar. Tea and small sweets were among the offered fare at Kilic Ali Pasa Hamami.

There are hammams at widely varying price points and amenities throughout Turkey. Some are geared towards locals and families. Today, there are hammams in which men and women are mixed. Reservations are required at the more expensive and popular hammams. I highly recommend treating yourself to this cultural immersion, cleansing, relaxation and possible socializing experience if you visit Istanbul. I felt as if I had a fresh start on life—and a newly revealed layer of soft, cleansed skin—when I emerged from the protected cocoon-like space into the full light of the vibrant city.