Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
30
worried. In almost all circumstances, bath-
ing is gender-segregated. There are some
exceptions, primarily at outdoor hot-spring
spas in the countryside, but the women
who go to these are usually grandmothers
who couldn't care less. Young Japanese
women wouldn't dream of jumping into a
tub with a group of male strangers.
Japanese baths are delightful—and I,
for one, am addicted to them. You'll find
them at Japanese-style inns, at hot-spring
spas, and at neighborhood baths (not
everyone has his or her own bath in
Japan). Sometimes they're elaborate affairs
with many tubs both indoor and outdoor,
and sometimes they're nothing more than
a tiny tub. Public baths have long been
regarded as social centers for the Japa-
nese—friends and co-workers visit hot-
spring resorts together; neighbors exchange
gossip at the neighborhood bath. Sadly,
however, the neighborhood bath has been
in great decline over the past decades, as
more and more Japanese acquire private
baths. In 1968, Tokyo alone had 2,687
neighborhood baths; today that number
has dropped to about 1,000. On a positive
note, several hot-spring spas
(onsen)
have
opened in Tokyo and its vicinity in recent
years, complete with open-air baths
(roten-
buro).
In any case, whether large or small, the
procedure at all Japanese baths is the same.
After you remove your shoes at the entry-
way, completely disrobe in the changing
room, and put your clothes in either a
locker or a basket, you hold a washcloth—
provided free or available for sale—in
front of your vital parts and walk into the
bath area. There you'll find plastic basins
and stools (sometimes they're still made of
wood), and faucets along the wall. Sit on a
stool in front of a faucet and repeatedly fill
your basin with water or use the adjacent
showerhead, rinsing your whole body. If
there's no hot water from the faucet, it's
acceptable to dip your basin into the hot
bath. Most Japanese will soap down before
entering the bath (though increasingly
many simply rinse off ), but all traces of
soap should be rinsed off before entering
the bath. Like in a Jacuzzi, everyone uses
the same bathwater. For that reason, you
should never wash yourself in the tub,
never put your washcloth into the bath
(place it on your head or lay it beside the
bath), and never pull the plug when you're
done. After your bath is when you scrub
your body and wash your hair. I have
never seen a group of people wash them-
selves so thoroughly as the Japanese, from
their ears to their toes. All sento provide
shampoo and body soap, along with inter-
esting products provided free by compa-
nies hoping to rope in new customers, but
in small public baths you might have to
provide your own.
Your first attempt at a Japanese bath
may be painful—simply too scalding for
comfort. It helps if you ease in gently and
then sit perfectly still. You'll notice all ten-
sion and muscle stiffness ebbing away, a
decidedly relaxing way to end the day. The
Japanese are so fond of baths that many
take them nightly, especially in winter,
when a hot bath keeps you toasty warm
for hours afterward. With time, you'll
probably become addicted, too.
Note:
Because tattoos in Japan have long been
associated with
yakuza
(Japanese mafia),
many sento and onsen do not admit peo-
ple with tattoos. If your tattoo is discreet,
however, and you're at, say, a small Japa-
nese inn, you probably won't have any
problems.
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