The essence of Morocco

Posted Wednesday, April 11, 2007, 6:19 PM by Lonely Planet

Baxter gets taken to the cleaners, Moroccan style...

The hammam (Turkish bath) is a physical metaphor for the essential Moroccan experience. It is the distillation of all the competing sensations of a North African vacation: excitement, anxiety, fear and revelation all vie for your attention like the food sellers in the Djemaa el-Fna.

Just like when you fly abroad, the first time you step into the steamy confines of a Marrakesh bathhouse, you are magically transported to a place where the normal rules of propriety no longer apply. Inside the hammam, and outside of your comfort zone, you pay your fare (just eight dirham) and are literally and figuratively laid-bare, all except for your underwear that is.

Remember your first time overseas when you realized there was no way you could even look like you fit in? Well, this is one of those times. As if he can sense your faltering spirit for this adventure, your guide suddenly appears to coax you through the process just like the astute handicraft merchants in the souq do. The stringy old man you saw upon entering the hammam is going to be your new best friend, it seems. In matching plastic slippers and threadbare robe, he smiles up at you almost tenderly.

There on the grimy, grouted floor, he leaves you alone and vulnerable in the company of strangers. Growing more self-conscious by the minute, you hope for the safety of your guide's speedy return.

In what seems like an hour (but are really just minutes) the little old man reappears in just his skivvies and an odd-looking glove on his left hand. What relief! Without warning, he dumps two buckets over your head in rapid succession. Before you can catch your breath under the water, he lays you out flat on the floor. After a thorough lathering with the black soap and another dousing, he pop, pop, pops your spine into realignment. Just exactly how bent out of shape you've been and how much you have in common with the humpbacked camel (at least in terms of posture) becomes painfully apparent. You've never felt dirtier nor cleaner in your whole life and yet, you couldn't be happier with the contradiction.

As you slip sheepishly into the medina outside, the seemingly divergent emotions that possess you - cleanliness and dirtiness, a relief that it's over, and a longing for more - leave you with the distinct impression that you've just had a quintessential Moroccan experience.

Labels: Africa, Bluelist Winners 2007

Join the Discussion: