I went to a sento, a Japanese public bath, last week. It hasn't been easy, but I'm finally getting used to them, and I even really look forward to visits now. The first time I heard about them, places where one undresses and bathes in a communal bath with dozens of naked strangers of all ages, I couldn't imagine actually going myself. Sure I come from the country of Hollywood and cable TV, but when it comes right down to it, there's just no escaping the fact that modern America was settled and founded by Puritans.

I let myself be talked into going to one anyway. What's the point of moving to a new place and living by the rules of the old place, right? I entered the dressing room, made no less than three procrastinating trips into the separate restroom, closed my eyes in front of my locker and took a deep breath, gave myself a quick pep talk, and took off my clothes. "This is no big deal. Everyone else here is naked, no one wants to see you, there's nothing you have they've never seen hundreds of before, stop being such a wimp about this," I told myself, still hiding futilely behind the tiny locker door and a washcloth.

My friend, a petite Chinese-American woman who blended in quite well, motioned for me to follow her. I gritted my teeth and did so, noticing that, it being the middle of the day, the room was filled mostly with elderly women, and that since no one was staring at my friend, I should be OK too. I was wrong. So wrong. Oh yeah, I'm a tall naked pink American with long blonde hair. My plan to be inconspicuous wouldn't work here. I might as well have been on a runway in that sento and, Why do they make those washcloths so small?

Ten or so sento trips later, it's better now. A lot of the anxiety of being stared at comes from the perception that one is being stared at, and after two years in Japan, I'm not as worried about that. Sure the staring gets old -- in the grocery store, in traffic, at the post office, in restaurants, every time I go through the portal of my front door, but I only notice it sometimes now, and I know it's inevitable. And more importantly, sento just feel really good.

Sento and onsen are a bit different. Onsen are typically weekend and holiday get-aways, like health spas, where one can eat delicious food, stay overnight in comfortable traditional-style rooms, gaze upon lovely gardens and furnishings, get waited on, maybe even play a round of golf, and the bath water often comes from a natural hot springs source. Sento are meant more as day-baths that many, typically older people, may visit almost daily. Most of both are segregated by gender. Traditional sento are often in old-style buildings with beautiful tile murals or picturesque gardens, although "Super Sento" in modern buildings and featuring restaurants, massage facilities, video game arcades and other amenities have been lately taking over.

Most sento feature a variety of specialty baths in addition to the standard plain hot water one. The one I most recently visited offered a jacuzzi, an outdoor bath, a lemon bath, several different mineral baths, a strong back-massaging waterfall, and a small bath that exuded low-level electrical currents, each bath with its own curative or beauty-enhancing properties. The electric current bath was said to be good for the muscles, but only forced me to stifle a scream of pain, and think, "Ahh, this is what it's like to have a radio thrown into your bathtub! No good!"

At a counter in the dressing room, one could pay 30-yen (an American quarter?) to use the hair drier. The better sento offer driers, lotions and brushes free of charge, but I was at a cheap suburban one. Usually Japanese adults are hesitant to talk to me, but in sento I am nearly always approached. Is it the nakedness? The novelty of a foreigner in that setting? The steam? Whatever it is, I have had the majority of my conversations with female strangers in Japan while naked. There isn't much else to talk about, so usually they talk to me about sento.

"Are there sento in America?" an overweight middle-aged woman wanted to know. "No. Most Americans would never get naked in public."

"How about in Canada?" "I wouldn't know. Never been there." "Australia?" "Couldn't tell you. (I'm not actually an expert on all English-speaking countries.)"

"Is it true that Americans use their bath water only once, for one person? What a waste." (In Japan, families tend to share bath water, each member bathing separately in the order of the family hierarchy: father first, etc.) "Yes, that is true, but Americans don't usually take baths, only showers. Also, in America, the shower and bathtub are the same unit, so you'd just end up bathing in someone else's dirty water, eeew." (Japanese showers, if present at all, are physically separate from the bathtub. One showers/washes with faucet, soap and bucket first, and gets into the tub only after they're clean.) She told me, "I've never taken a shower. America sounds strange."

Comments

[tomo]

oops, my sentence structure really needs some work. I was trying to say that when I went to an onsen at the age of 18, it was the first time since I was a kid living in Japan that I was in a public bath with a bunch of naked guys around.
I think I've been out of school too long.

[Karla]

M Sinclair, I never did go to Hippie Hollow, too shy. I have been to the Burning Man festival ( http://burningman.com ) a couple times though, so seeing large public groups of naked people isn't entirely new. Somehow naked recreation like skinny-dipping and Burning Man feel very different to me than naked public bathing though -- the atmosphere, the purpose, the added intimacy of washing one's body as opposed to just exposing it to sun, and definitely the demographics changed it a lot for me. Burning Man would have been a much different experience if it had been chock full of naked grandmothers. I know for certain I'll miss the sento and onsen someday though, and I think that's been a lot of my impetus to learn to enjoy them. Say hi to Austin for me.

Tomo, I'd never thought about that crotch-to-head washcloth transfer thing before. Hee, hee, hee, he-... eeew. First-time onsen must have been a very strange experience for you at the age of 5. I don't think I saw any other live naked adults until I was at least in college.

[M Sinclair Stevens]

Girl, you're from Austin, aren't ya? Haven't you ever gone skinny-dipping at Hippie Hollow, bathed topless at Barton Springs?

Well, once you fall in love with the Japanese bath, and visit some onsen, you'll miss them so. I really could use a trip to the onsen right now. It's gray, cold and windy and I'm chilled inside and out. My only option is to go to the Hills and sit in the fitness center's over-chlorinated hot tub.

[tomo]

I remember my trip to an onsen when I was in japan and feeling very nervous even though I look japanese. I had to take my fogging glasses off so I couldn't even see anyone. I think that made it harder cuz I couldn't look around to confirm that no one really cared or knew that it was my first time bathing in public since I was like 5. I had the same thoughts karla... "why is the washcloth so small". also it was a little weird to see old men take the same washcloth that earlier covered their crotch and put it on top of their heads... I guess it kept them warm.