Crimes of the Skin

I have taken two irregular baths in the last 72 hours, in addition to the more traditional shower I am used to.

The first was a mud bath. I was on a boat in Koycegiz, and they stopped at a sulfur mud pool. So, with 20 strangers, I hopped into a 20 ft. x 10 ft. vat of mud. It was a new thing for me, but in the end, it felt like I would've imagine it would: like wet dirt.

The second was a Turkish bath. It's one of those things that people say you have to experience in Turkey, and this definitely was an experience. It was at once a pleasant steam bath, a refreshing rinse, and an epidermal genocide. I sat (wrapped in a towel) in a big, domed steam room on marble pedestals for about half an hour. Then rinsed myself off with water from a nearby spigot in the corner of the room. Then I just sat there, because they don't give you any instruction booklets in these things. I went outside of the steam room, and was told quickly in a baritone voice "Go lie down".

I did as I was told, and the man came in with a loofah mitten that might as well been a scythe. He started scraping at my skin like he was teaching it a lesson. When he was done, my once proud first layer of skin lay in ruins, and I washed it all off. Then he told me to go outside, where they wrapped me other towels, and offered me apple tea.

Tea. As if that could bring my skin back. But I accepted it, because I didn't want to be rude and apple tea tastes good.