Angela In Japan: An Onsen-uous Experience

The Japanese have a very distinct stereotype towards foreigners: the Japanese take baths and foreigners take showers. Although there are many foreigners who beg to differ, the term “bath” is much different in Japan than it is anywhere else in the world.
The Japanese have a very distinct stereotype towards foreigners: the Japanese take baths and foreigners take showers. Although there are many foreigners who beg to differ, the term “bath” is much different in Japan than it is anywhere else in the world.

Firstly, if you have ever been in a typical Japanese home you will be stunned by the room arrangements. The bath and shower facilities are all in one room while the toilet is in another room. And in my case, I have a room for showering and bathing, another room for the toilet, and a separate sink in the kitchen where I brush my teeth and wash my face. This being said, the Japanese value, showering and bathing as one separate function, and therefore, it deserves its own room.

Secondly, the proper way to enjoy a bath is to take a shower first. But nobody takes a shower inside a bathtub; instead, the bathtub is used solely for bathing. So where does one shower? Next to the bathtub. After you’ve showered and rinsed yourself squeaky clean, then you hop into the shower and enjoy a relaxing bath. Everyone in the household shares that same pool of water for that night, which is why it is important for everyone to shower first before they go into the bath. You see, bathing isn’t for cleaning purposes; it is a time for relaxation.

For this reason, onsens are extremely popular throughout Japan, especially in the winter where everyone likes a nice hot bath. An onsen is a Japanese public bath facility traditionally around hot springs. I’ve heard so much about it prior to coming to Japan, and so much about it while I am in Japan that I was thrilled the first night when two onsen veterans brought me to this lovely place up near the mountains. It was very affordable as well, only 500 yen, which works out to be $5 USD. And like most onsens, this onsen was gender segregated.

Despite the excitement of finally going to an onsen, the experience was a tad different in my head than in reality. The way I imagined it was that people would walk around wearing towels. Instead, they walked around with a modest towel slung over their shoulders or placed on the top of their heads. This is where culture shock came in. And I can merely mirror this experience to the fall of Adam and Eve.

Prior to eating the forbidden fruit from the Tree of Knowledge, Adam and Eve were upright, care-free creatures living in bliss. This is how I saw my onsen veterans and the Japanese women at the onsen: they were simply upright, care-free females living in bliss and relaxation enjoying their night at the onsen. Each female would roam around as they pleased plunging from one pool to another, entering and leaving the sauna room to the steam room to another pool (in no specific order) in a matter-of-fact manner. This was their way of life, this was their customary practice, and essentially, this was their onsen.

The open-air bath.

And the way I saw myself?

Well, I am Adam and Eve after their fall. Feeling shy and embarrassed after realizing the nakedness of the onsen, I was caught in an awkward position. Although I tried to pretend I was indifferent and care-free like everyone else, there was this inevitable cultural barrier. They would not understand my coyness in the pool or when I avoided walking from one facility to another. No, no they would not. Just as Adam and Eve would not recognize another creature’s embarrassment if they hadn’t taken that greedy bite from the forbidden fruit. Well, I have had my taste of the fruit and I wish I could enjoy the bliss that everyone else was having.

What I loved most was their onsen routine: once they enter the onsen locker rooms they would strip down and take their onsen baskets into the shower room. An onsen basket consists of the essential shower items like shower gel, shampoo, conditioner and a loofah. The Japanese spend an excessive amount of time scrubbing their bodies. I’ve even noticed how some women take even more time cleaning their feet than I do my body. So in order to compensate for my short scrub, I had to scrub myself thrice and wash my hair twice in order to leave the shower room the same time with my onsen veterans.

An onsen is very much like a naked swimming pool – ”except swimming is not permitted. One of my foreigner friends made long stroking gestures with her arms and the closest lady to her immediately glared and said: No swimming! And another difference would be the many different small pools that one can plunge into. There is a pool that runs only cold water, a few pools with mineral hot water and an exercise pool where one walk in laps.

Also, those with tattoos are not permitted in an onsen. In fact, people with tattoos are not allowed in gyms as well. It’s a cultural thing. Tattoos are associated with “yakuzas”. They’re the Japanese version of an Italian mafia.

Everyone showers thoroughly before and after they have bathed.

Anyway, earlier this week several Japanese friends of mine took me and a few other foreigners to the most breath-taking onsen ever. It was far up the mountain and very exclusive; maybe because it was a weekday, and nobody else was at this particular onsen. Basically, it felt very much like a private onsen. This was also another reason why I was able to capture its majestic essence in photographs. Normally in onsens, photography would be forbidden, seeing as how people wander around naked. But there was absolutely nobody there that morning. And this was how I was able to sneak my camera inside.

There was a five month gap from the first time I went to an onsen with my onsen veterans, to this most recent time with my Japanese friends (and only because they promised me that they would go to another pool opposite from me to avoid embarrassment, and then we would swap pools). Perhaps it is this cultural barrier that I cannot shake off, and the idea of bathing with strangers in a public area with an untroubled disposition. It’s just not something I can pull off. I can only be an intruder to their picturesque ritual as I admire the care-free bliss of the Japanese culture.