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April 19, 2010
Unlikely Empowerment: Turkey’s harems and hammams
My first visit to Turkey was in 1970. I’d just graduated from college, and my girlfriends and I were celebrating by spending the summer traveling through Europe. We spent time in nearly a dozen countries, encountering some truly amazing sights, but what I remember most about the experience isn’t what we saw, but how we felt: we were four young and carefree women, nearly giddy with excitement at being able to explore the world—and to do so on our own terms.
After all, in the years before our trip, the feminist movement had been hitting its stride in America. While my girlfriends and I didn’t quite feel the need to burn our bras, we did believe in the notion that sisterhood is powerful: Our friendship proved it. And while similar sentiments were being expressed throughout Europe, it seemed to me that Turkey wouldn’t exactly embrace the ideals of women’s liberation. So I was surprised, indeed, to discover two unique ways in which Turkish women, then and now, celebrate their sisterhood.
The first, unlikely as it may seem, was in the Imperial harem. Yes, these women were responsible for fulfilling the sultan’s physical needs—but as I learned during my visit to Istanbul’s Topkapi Museum, the harem also played an important role in governing Turkey. In fact, the sultan’s mother was almost as powerful as her son, advising him on matters of state and meeting with his legal and religious advisers. What’s more, the fact that these women spent virtually all their waking hours together helped foster genuine friendships—to the point where these ostensible “rivals” tended lovingly to each other’s children.
The days of the harem are over, but the same spirit of solidarity is evident in the hammam, or Turkish baths. I’ll admit that my first experience was a little disconcerting: there I was, stretched out on a slick white marble bench, wearing only my underwear and a postage stamp-sized towel while a team of zaftig women vigorously soaped, rinsed, and scrubbed me. But then I looked around the room and was struck by how relaxed and unselfconscious the other women seemed, sitting around in small groups, affectionately washing each other while talking and laughing. It was then that I realized how liberating the hammam must be—a special, private place where Turkish women can spend time together and celebrate their friendships … on their own terms.
Have you been similarly inspired to interpret another culture’s customs in a new or empowering way? If so, I’d love to hear about your experience; you can send your story to me at harriet@oattravel.com.
In the coming weeks, we’ll be taking a closer look at Patagonia, Southeast Asia (including Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos), and the South Pacific. If you’ve been to any of these fascinating regions with OAT, I’d love to hear about your experiences! Email me at
harriet@oattravel.com.
Harriet Lewis