Hammam Nuruddin

On my second day in Damascus, I went with a classmate to the Hammam Nuruddin. On my first weekend in town after my return in September, we returned, having been there several times this summer.

A hammam is a steam bath, what Max Bialystock or Laurel and Hardy might refer to as a "Turkish bath." At its simplest, patrons go sit in a very hot, steamy room and sweat and scrub for a while. Nuruddin takes it several steps further, with a sauna, massages, and a crew of professional hammam attendants who will scrub you down. The building itself is also rather incredible--first built 850 years ago, it had fallen into ruin, and was restored sometime in the middle of the last century. It now has marble floors, ceilings painted with elaborate geometric patterns, and relatively modern plumbing.

After our first experience there, we realized that we could easily do without everything but the steam bath; the scrubbing, in particular, was a harrowing experience. One may purchase a coarse exfoliating mitten in the market immediately outside the bath, but if you rely on the gentlemen inside, they have at you with what appears to be a mitt made from a few layers of burlap. Though I didn't ask, it was clear that the same burlap had been used for all the other customers that day; I'm fairly sure that the mitt was an heirloom, and had been handed down over the ages since the time of Nuruddin.

When you're done steaming, the Kurdish attendants wrap you in towels, then a separate set of towels. The whole process feels faintly ridiculous and more than a little touristy, but I have yet to meet someone there who wasn't from the Middle East--it seems that most of the conversations we have are with Gulf Arabs on vacation in Damascus, along with a few Turks and Jordanians. And though I could just take a shower, the process does seem to have a revivifying effect that a simple bath wouldn't.