Aleppo, Syria: Ancient Baths of Syria’s Second City Aleppo are refilling, not because of a revived fad, but power cut Which has made hot showers a luxury.
“We mainly rely on electricity to heat water at home, but most of the time the power is cut off,” said Mohamed Hariri from a crowded bathhouse, where he had waited half an hour for his turn.
“Here, we need to shower all the time,” the 31-year-old told AFP.
With its marble steam rooms, hexagonal fountains and distinctive domes, baths of aleppo For centuries it has served as a social center where men come together to wash, listen to music and even eat.
But insufficiency of water, fuel and electricity throughout war-torn syria It has also turned them into a refuge for those looking for long, warm baths during the cold winters.
In hammam al qawas, one of more than 50 traditional bathhouses in Aleppo’s old city, diesel fuel and firewood are used to power furnaces that provide hot water and steam.
Beneath its arched dome, men draped in towels sit in one of several adjoining rooms, singing some traditional Arabic tunes as they draw hot water from stone basins.
In a nearby area, masseuses use soap and loofahs to scrub clients lying flat on marble floors, as restrictions against the coronavirus pandemic seem a world away.
Hariri said that as a child he used to go to the bathhouse in Aleppo with his father and uncles.
Now, he comes with his son – not to continue a tradition, but because the water at home is not enough for his family of five.
“At home you have to take a bath in five minutes, but in the bathroom you can stay for five hours,” he said.
Several structures were seriously damaged during several rounds of fighting between regime forces and rebels.
According to AFP correspondents, only 10 have reopened since Aleppo returned to full government control in 2016.
Sitting at the reception inside the Hammam al-Qawas, Ammar Radwan took calls from customers wishing to book an appointment.
The 33-year-old, who inherited a 14th-century bathhouse from his grandfather, said he never imagined the business would boom again.
“We reopened the hammam in 2017 after fighting ended in Aleppo, but we didn’t expect such a turnout,” he told AFP, updating the client register.
Among the bathhouse’s regular customers is Jalal Al-Halo, a 53-year-old father of three.
“I go to the bathhouse at least once a month for a good cleaning,” he told AFP from inside a laundry room, a towel covering his wet body.
Like most residents of Aleppo, Halo usually has to deal with cold or lukewarm water at home.
This year round-the-clock power cuts have reached 20 hours due to severe shortage of diesel fuel.
Halo said he sometimes has to resort to firewood instead of an electric water heater so that his family can take a bath.
“Our priority is to provide (hot water) for the children,” he said.
The same is the case for fellow bathhouse patron Nadar Mashala.
“The last time I took a shower was two weeks ago,” the 58-year-old said after cleaning up at the hammam.
At home, “priority goes to the kids, and if there’s some hot water left, my shower is quick and unsatisfactory,” he said.
Mashala, a government employee and father of six children, said he can take some rest at his home.
But in the bathhouse, he was relaxing and smoking glass from a large fountain as the other customers left.
“In the past, going to the bathhouse was mainly for fun,” he said between puffs.
“Today, it has become a necessity at least once or twice a month.”
“We mainly rely on electricity to heat water at home, but most of the time the power is cut off,” said Mohamed Hariri from a crowded bathhouse, where he had waited half an hour for his turn.
“Here, we need to shower all the time,” the 31-year-old told AFP.
With its marble steam rooms, hexagonal fountains and distinctive domes, baths of aleppo For centuries it has served as a social center where men come together to wash, listen to music and even eat.
But insufficiency of water, fuel and electricity throughout war-torn syria It has also turned them into a refuge for those looking for long, warm baths during the cold winters.
In hammam al qawas, one of more than 50 traditional bathhouses in Aleppo’s old city, diesel fuel and firewood are used to power furnaces that provide hot water and steam.
Beneath its arched dome, men draped in towels sit in one of several adjoining rooms, singing some traditional Arabic tunes as they draw hot water from stone basins.
In a nearby area, masseuses use soap and loofahs to scrub clients lying flat on marble floors, as restrictions against the coronavirus pandemic seem a world away.
Hariri said that as a child he used to go to the bathhouse in Aleppo with his father and uncles.
Now, he comes with his son – not to continue a tradition, but because the water at home is not enough for his family of five.
“At home you have to take a bath in five minutes, but in the bathroom you can stay for five hours,” he said.
Several structures were seriously damaged during several rounds of fighting between regime forces and rebels.
According to AFP correspondents, only 10 have reopened since Aleppo returned to full government control in 2016.
Sitting at the reception inside the Hammam al-Qawas, Ammar Radwan took calls from customers wishing to book an appointment.
The 33-year-old, who inherited a 14th-century bathhouse from his grandfather, said he never imagined the business would boom again.
“We reopened the hammam in 2017 after fighting ended in Aleppo, but we didn’t expect such a turnout,” he told AFP, updating the client register.
Among the bathhouse’s regular customers is Jalal Al-Halo, a 53-year-old father of three.
“I go to the bathhouse at least once a month for a good cleaning,” he told AFP from inside a laundry room, a towel covering his wet body.
Like most residents of Aleppo, Halo usually has to deal with cold or lukewarm water at home.
This year round-the-clock power cuts have reached 20 hours due to severe shortage of diesel fuel.
Halo said he sometimes has to resort to firewood instead of an electric water heater so that his family can take a bath.
“Our priority is to provide (hot water) for the children,” he said.
The same is the case for fellow bathhouse patron Nadar Mashala.
“The last time I took a shower was two weeks ago,” the 58-year-old said after cleaning up at the hammam.
At home, “priority goes to the kids, and if there’s some hot water left, my shower is quick and unsatisfactory,” he said.
Mashala, a government employee and father of six children, said he can take some rest at his home.
But in the bathhouse, he was relaxing and smoking glass from a large fountain as the other customers left.
“In the past, going to the bathhouse was mainly for fun,” he said between puffs.
“Today, it has become a necessity at least once or twice a month.”
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