A Soapy Tale

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  Kyoto, Japan
Tuesday, February 5, 2008

A Soapy Tale

Our accommodation in Kyoto at the Toji Guesthouse was primitive. It didn't have hot water or a bathroom. Both the guests and the live-in staff had to bathe at the local public bathing house, a block away. This was my first experience using a public bathing facility, and it warranted an entire entry by itself!

The first night we arrived in Kyoto late after flying from Tokyo to Osaka and then bussing it to Kyoto. We then walked with our packs 20 minutes in some chilly weather to our warm, but fairly dirty and crowded guesthouse. Luckily (?) the bath house stayed open until midnight. Nervous, Cameron and I set out through some dark streets to find the baths. Cameron had tried to give me some idea of what I was about to experience, but obviously it was a bit hard since he'd only been in the male area

The public bath house (part of)

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We paid our 100 Yen each and were given plastic buckets. "Hmm, I thought..." Well, I don't fit in it, so it must be used to carry things. I said goodbye to Cam, and we arranged a meeting time in about 45 minutes. Later we realised you could just yell over the wall. In the women's change room I asked two younger Asian girls some questions like "where do I hang my towel and clothes?". I figured I'd never see them again so shouldn't be embarrassed. (It turned out they were my Korean dorm buddies for the night!).

Butt naked, with a tea-towel over my shoulder and holding my little plastic toiletries bucket I headed through to the bath area, and tried to look cool. It was a bit hard considering I stood out like a sore thumb. I just thank God that I'm not blonde. There were four rows of knee-high mirrors, long enough to have 2 shower hose-roses installed in a concrete block either side of the mirror. Several women were squatting or sitting on low green plastic stools in front of a shower hose-rose. The water was really hot which helped me thaw out quickly. I did my best to copy what I was seeing. You had to wet yourself, then turn off the water. Get yourself all soapy...and don't be shy about scrubbing everywhere by the way. You could rinse off, and squeeze a few pimples using your mirror, shave your legs and armpits, or wash your hair. Once your felt truly clean, you got to jump in a selection of really really really hot spa-type baths, which had instruction signs, but only in Japanese, so I had no idea if there was a particular order of use which would help me be the most relaxed or beautiful! Being a newbie, I chose to sit in just one and relax my aching muscles. (We'd done a lot of walking in 3 days). So what had started as a nerve racking experience I quite enjoyed.

The next night we looked forward to our baths after a freezing day of touring around temples in light snow. I felt more expert, and was planning to wash my hair tonight. I even thought I'd brave the different spas. There was a green tinged bath, and I tried to ask the Japanese women whether it was seaweed flavour or midori, but no one understood me. It didn't taste like either. I tried another spa, just dipping my hand in, and it was freezing. I figured out you were suppose to just splash yourself a bit to be envigourated after taking a sauna. I felt a bit like Goldilocks, because there was a third spa bath which I tried. However, it was not just right. In fact, I got some sort of electric shock from it, all the way from my toes to my stomach. Horrified that I couldv'e just been fried, I went back to my favourite 'normal' spa. I found out later from Satoshi's girlfriend Jane that that third spa had a low electric pulse for massage running through it, but that the instructions said that if you had body-piercings you shouldn't use it because it would channel the charge! Oops.

On the third night I was having no problems navigating my way around the bathing area and change room. I even knew it was 20 yen cents to use the public hair dryer, but that you needed it twice. I was enjoying watching what was going on around me too. There was a mother with her primary aged daughter and new born hanging out in a spa. I wondered how the baby didn't cry in such hot water, but Cameron figured it was because the mum had probably used the spa the whole time she was pregnant and the baby got used to it. The daughter's job was to run between the hot and cold spa to get a washer to wipe her baby sibling's face. There were many old, wrinkly Japanese women too, with skin sagging over boney hips and ribs.

Cameron's experience over in the male section each night had also been progressing. This third night, he actually fell off his plastic stool. But, true to Japanese culture, no one even cracked a smile. This reminds me that I also could hear the men's side each night, and one thing that seems to transcend all cultures is that men are gross. They made gagging, snorting and burping sounds all night. And smoked.

My last night to the public bath house I really wanted to take a photo. Unfortunately, none of the women using it that night spoke even a little English. I thought I would have a bath first then hopefully I would seem like 'one of the gang', and take a photo before getting dressed. When I took my camera out one middle aged woman said 'no'. So, I waited for her to leave, as well as most of the other women. I dried my hair really slowly so as not to look suspicious. Finally, I took a photo of the half of the bath house where there were no women, but the stupid auto-flash went off. The only women in the washing area absolutely cracked the shits. I showed her the digital camera screen to try and demonstrate that there was no people in the photo. However, I think she was a bit of a control freak with her response. An old woman sitting in the change room next door just laughed when I showed her the photo, and the bath house staff lady didn't mind either. Phew!

Overall, I'd have to say going to the bath was one of my favourite Japanese experiences, because it was so different from anything I'd done before, and a bit of a personal challenge too. It's not every day you get to shower with strangers. I also found it refreshing to see that a bunch of women (and some kiddies) could just chill out together, butt naked, and enjoy the simple pleasure of getting clean. It was nice to see lots of different shaped bodies - no super models or airbrushed figures in sight. It actually made me feel quite happy about myself self-image. Wouldn't it be great if adolescent Western girls could all have this type of reality check?

Toilet Tales

On the subject of bathrooms, toilet trips in Japan were also up there on my favourite list. Each location had something unique. I don't have the energy or time to write a story, but here are the main points:

1. The first toilet I used in Tokyo was HEATED! I actually yelped out loud 'omigod' when I sat down. It was 10 times better than going to the toilet after someone else has heated it for you. 
2. Many toilets had a control panel down the side with options for (a) toilet flush (b) bottom wash and (c) acoustic soundtracks to hide the toilet noises. One even had a counter on it that let me know I was the 14700th something visitor.
3. Sometimes finding the secret auto flush panel was tricky.
4. The hand basins were also designed by a superior intelligence, and often I found it hard to figure out how to turn on the tap or squirt the liquid soap out.


 
 

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