Long before the Turkish tribes swept into Anatolia, they had established healthy bathing traditions. Upon their arrival in Asia Minor, they confronted another squeaky-clean civilization: the Byzantines who took their spas seriously and had Roman-style baths throughout their empire. The structure of the Byzantine bathhouse merged with Turkish bathing rituals and the Muslim observance of cleanliness, and voilà: the hamam was born. Over time, the hamam was no longer just a place of ablution; it had become an intrinsic part of Ottoman life.

At a time when most homes did not have running water, the public baths were a watering hole for all strata of society. Every neighborhood had at least one bath. At their peak, there must have been hundreds of hamams in Istanbul. Young and old, rich and poor, male and female, all congregated under the domed roofs of the hamam. Contrary to Western exotic-erotic fantasies, hamams were always segregated—there were either separate bathing areas or a single space would have different schedules for the two sexes. Legend has it that anyone found in the wrong section of the hamam would be sentenced to death!

The elaborate bathing process could take hours, so they provided the ideal atmosphere for socializing and gossiping. Men would gather and talk about business, politics, and court life. Women would travel en masse to the hamam, accompanied by servants who carried dishes of food that would be eaten while bathing. Songs would be sung and music would be played. It was also a place where young women learned how to care for their hair and bodies and how to apply make-up. For women, a trip to the bathhouse provided a rare opportunity to engage in social activity outside the home. It is said that it was grounds for divorce if a man forbade his wife to go to the hamam.

There are many fascinating social traditions connected to the hamam. Mothers would look for prospective brides for their sons there. Once a bride had been chosen, a gelin hamamı or bride’s bath would be held; the hamam would be hired and closed to the public. The groom’s family would present the bride-to-be with a special costume to wear to and from the hamam as well as an ornate robe for her to wear in the hamam. A procession would enter the hamam led by the bride and a woman beating a tambourine. Songs would be sung by candlelight. Single girls would toss coins into the waters and wish for a happy marriage. Today, Turkish celebrities have brought this custom back into fashion and foreign brides-to-be have also adopted the tradition as part of their henna weekends. Today, at bride’s baths food is served, the bridal party’s palms are dyed with henna, traditional fasıl music is played, and there is much singing and dancing.

Yet another trip to the hamam was customary on the fortieth day after the birth of a child. (New mothers were traditionally kept at home for forty days after giving birth.) Circumcision parties were also held at a hamam. Indeed, almost any important event in someone’s life was celebrated by a trip to the hamam, from receiving a promotion to going to the army. At the final stage of the life cycle, mourners would also mark the death of a loved one at the hamam.

The hamam lost its significance as the majority of people began to have bathrooms with hot and cold running water in their homes. The majority of hamams in Istanbul disappeared in the 50s and 60s. Today, only a few dozen hamams remain, including a few ‘tourist’ bathhouses and a number of more humble neighborhood ones.

Exerpt from “Where Cleanliness and Godliness Combine: The Hamam” published in The Guide Istanbul July/August 2009