Hammam-in'

Across the street from our hostel was an honest to goodness local hamman.  Real women.  5 euros each.  Heck ya.

Since we do not speak French, we asked the concierge (for lack of a better title) to introduce us at the door and in we went.  the rest would have to be communicated by gesture.  

Take off your clothes and put them on the bench.  Check.  We had heard that these were all nude affairs and I'd convinced April that I was game for that, but as I'd started my regla unexpectadly, I went with bathing shorts.  She had pretty, scandalous undies... and kept them on.  Good thing as that turned out to be more apropos.  Okay, go in.  And, we did.  women were sitting on small stools sloshing themselves with water from large buckets on the ground.  their personal buckets had soap and oils and brushes and things.  

April and I just stood there like two total white foreigners looking around like meerkats and having not a clue what to do.  There were no free stools. No obviously unused buckets and noone would even look in our direction.  Shit.  Onto the next room.  Okay, more people.  Some kids.  more sloshing.  Warmer.  But, no progress.  Still standing the middle.  White and tattooed.  Onto the next room.  Okay, its the last room.  Women lined the walls washing themselves and buckets were being refreshed in the trough in the corner.  Warmer still.  Finally, we were gestured to the corner.  buckets were moved our pads were grabbed and placed on the floor and we were told to douse.  Done.  

still unsure, we proceeded to observe the rituals of the other women and suspected that the order was to wash our hair.  okay.  that could take some time. eventually, our guardian widow, aka arabian mamacita, came to our aide.  she slopped some paste soap on our legs and told us to rub it all over.  check.  then, i rinsed.  bad idea.  when AM came back - she had a black skin-removing glove and proceeded to rake my appendages like a lawn.  not too hard.  not uncomfortable, but ribbons of skin beading on my arms indicated that I was a dirty girl and though I'd previously felt clean - long overdue.  we got arms, legs, back.  and when we didn't remove our grundies, she pulled them open at the front like an abuela and splashed us down there, too.  

all quite humorous and all in good fun.  April and I were giggling throughout.  I'd heard AM mention that we were foreigners, duh, to the local women, and they were all respectfully inattentive to us.  I think I saw AM crack a smile, but I was not entirely sure until she smacked me on the ass to hustle me out.