An Experience in Uncomfortability

I travel because I become uncomfortable being too comfortable

Carew Papritz

You never realize the extent of American modesty until you walk into a Tunisian hammem. Anyone who knows me understands that modesty is not my strong suit, so it shouldn’t have been an issue, but in the States, you never walk in somewhere to find a group of women dressed only in their underwear being washed by other women who are similarly as undressed. Basically, take every idea you have about American spas and throw them all away. To be honest, it was less the extent of American modesty than it was the extent of American self-image issues. Luckily, I was with another American who was equally as uncomfortable, but we decided if we were going to do this, we were going to do it right.

Hammem starts off with a bucket and soap bath, and if the women working feel you aren’t clean enough, they have no problem tossing the water over your head.

Then, you head to a large stone centerpiece where every single fiber of dead skin is scrubbed off your body. I make it sound painful (and it was) but also rewarding to see how much dead skin one girl accumulates in 19 years. Arthur couldn’t stop touching his face afterwards because of how smooth it was after that much exfoliation.

After that comes a full body massage (where 0 boundaries are respected), but I did get every single vertebrate in my back cracked in the most satisfying way before being stretched in a position that can only be called the Hawaiian Pig. 

The whole experience was rejuvenating but I was constantly reminding myself to relax, to stop being uncomfortable, to remember that no one was judging me and I was fine. Whenever I was able to do that, I was extremely relaxed, but it took intense concentration.

Would I go again? Maybe not. But do I regret it? Absolutely not.