OGL 350, Spring A

Oberstein, Faith
Module 2B
Balmilero, Deborah
February 20, 2021
Bath House Experience

As a veteran traveler, I look back on some of my experiences venturing to some of my

favorite places where I experienced culture firsthand. Typically, when traveling, my husband

and I stay in nice, clean, generic hotels that probably can be found anywhere in the world. Of

course we always find ways to spice up our adventures by finding out how the locals live. On

one of my first trips to Japan, we were introduced to a local girl through mutual friends who was

eager and excited to make friends with someone from Hawaii. We discovered that this girl, Emi

used to work for the hotel we were staying at but had moved on to a better job. She was excited

to take us around Tokyo to explore the off beaten paths and to see how the local people live.

One of the best experiences that I remember was when she took us home to meet her

grandmother and so that I could experience the local public bath (onsen). She lived in the city

and used public baths daily and was very surprised that I was interested in experiencing her daily

routine. Interestingly, she had a very small shower and bathroom at home and explained that

most of the time, all the neighbors went down the street to the public bath daily instead of using

their facilities in their home, if they even had one.

Emi brought us to a crowded non-descript part of the city where there were multiple

square buildings two or more stories high in between winding lanes that barely fit one small car.

These weren’t skyscrapers but small little communities with walk up units only a few floors

high. She lived with her grandmother on the ground floor of such a three-room unit. This

consisted of one common room where everyone slept and hung out, a tiny toilet room with a
hand-held shower wand that could be used in the tiny space, getting everything wet, and an

equally tiny kitchen. They were fortunate to have a small garden area right outside where you

could walk maybe two paces in either direction but would still be able to have natural sunlight in

the main room. My husband and I accompanied Emi to her home, provided her grandmother

with gifts from Hawaii that she seemed thrilled to receive and then we left my husband at the

house while Emi and I made the trip to the bathhouse down the alley. He sat on a floor cushion

as there were no couches or much furniture besides cushions on the floor and a small low table

with a heater underneath it. Emi’s grandmother, who looked quite elderly, proceeded to bring

tiny dish after tiny dish to cover a table in front of my husband where he got to try everything

while nodding, trying to convey that it was all good with broken Japanese to someone who spoke

no English at all. He was plied with so many tiny dishes of tasty treats and cold beer while he

waited for us that he was quite drunk by the time we came back. It was funny to see him

nodding and mumbling as Oba-Chan (Grandma) kept putting more little treats on his plate. He

confided to me later that while it was all so tasty but was very awkward as he hardly spoke any

Japanese and Oba-Chan spoke no English and he couldn’t tell he was full and for her to stop

feeding him. He felt obligated to try it all and was quite a happy drunk, very full guy.

Meanwhile, Emi and I walked down the narrow

lane to the bath house where there was a guy sitting in a

high box about five feet above the ground, which is a

bandai or front desk (Machida, 2015).

We paid our admission fee and he provided a wooden

“ticket” to get into the dressing area and to use to close a

Bandai, Front Desk for the bathhouse
locker. In this area, there was a locker room and a separate toilet area where a squat toilet, the

first I had ever encountered, awaited me.

If you have ever traveled to Asian countries, you would know that these are basically a

porcelain basin set into the ground, not raised up in a pedestal sitting throne like a western toilet.

Alongside the sunken basin were two footprints where I needed to stand and squat on to do my

business. There were no rolls of toilet paper or anything to clean myself with, other than the

Kleenex I brought with me. I was a little unsettled but made the best of it, and joining my friend

in the locker room to remove and store my clothes and don “yukatas” or thin cotton robes, grab

our towel and head into the wash area. There I was greeted with a long room with many plastic

stools in front of faucets and plastic basins used for pouring water onto our bodies.

Typical view of the bathing area and soaking pool

Emi handed me some soap and shampoo and explained that I was to wash everything and

rinse off before we were able to enter into the “pool” at the end of the room. It seemed all very

clean and sanitary and was just warm enough to shuck our robes and sit on the stools without

feeling very cold even though it was pretty chilly outside. Luckily it was an off-time so there
weren’t too many people in the bath house and I could wash without many staring eyes.

However, there were little children with their oba-chans who were playing, getting in and out of

the water. They all started a ruckus as I washed myself and I found myself surrounded by a

bunch of little kids, boys and girls who thought I was a movie star because I was so fair. Of

course it was because they hadn’t seen a foreigner up close and they marveled at my brown hair

and big nose.

After we washed, we proceeded to soak in the hot pool, which was pretty deep on one

end and shallow on the other, similar to a regular swimming pool. Most of the women in the

pool were covered in water up to their necks and then they would get too warm and rise up and

sit on the side, similar to what you would do in a Jacuzzi at home. The water was nice and hot

and made you feel extra relaxed and that you were taking time to reconnect with yourself. Once

we had finished our bathing we dried off, dressed in the locker room and headed out, followed

by all the little children jabbering in Japanese and pointing to us as if we were movie stars. It

was quite funny and for a moment, I felt that I was famous. I was relaxed and at ease with the

world and felt that I could face the day with an open and easy heart.

The nice thing about bathing in a communal bath, was that everyone gave each other

space and solitude or as much camaraderie as you may have needed at the end of a long day.

Your fellow bathers were there for you and allowed you to share your jubilations or sorrows as

needed while helping you to relax enough to start again another day. When we go home on most

nights from our regular jobs, we have our family waiting for us to cook dinner and to relax

together, chatting about our days. While this is a nice feature of western life, it isn’t common to

both go together to relax and unwind, soak your stress away and then come together to enjoy the

rest of your evening. Emi explained that at certain times of the day, her bathhouse was co-ed and
married couples made a concerted effort to go during those times. This helped them unwind and

be able to join the rest of their family for meals and whatever else needed to be done. They built

in some quality time together. That impressed me as an important part of life as we all rush from

event to event and never take the time to truly relax together often.

The bathhouse was very clean and it was obvious that a lot of effort was put into keeping

it clean and sanitary so that everyone would have a relaxing, enjoyable experience. I remember

thinking it was so different from my rushed morning showers where I spent little time reflecting

on my day or re-energizing myself for what was to come and that this way of living would be a

nice new normal. Emi also explained that, even though most people had their own showers and

bathing facilities at home, this communal way of sharing a quiet moment at the end of the day

was so relaxing that she continued if even when her life was the most hectic.

Even with traveling back to Japan many times, my husband and I never got around to

going to an official bathhouse (onsen) or Ryucan (inn with a with a hot-spring). We always

talked about it but because there is always so much to see and do on our vacations, we never take

the time to slow down enough to just enjoy a hot spring vacation. Before the pandemic hit our

world, my husband and I went on a cruise ship that had an onsen and I took advantage of the use

of their indoor and outdoor hot soaking pools. While they also had the washing stations and

rinsing areas, the hot pools were so nice but the strangers weren’t as social or friendly. I did find

one person to visit with and we sat for quite a while, chatting and enjoying the soothing hot

water. While this tradition is centered on Japan’s traditions, it would be so nice to carry on

something like this where I live. As this memory was from the 1980’s, and not in the digital age,

I don’t have any photos showing me at the bath-house, which is so different from how we
memorialize everything we experience now. There was a sense of calm and peace sharing the

hot, clean water that bathed my soul just as much as my body.

References
(n.d.). Retrieved from https://toilet-guru.com/japan/squat.php

From, L. W. (2017, November 26). Japanese Public Bathing Explained.

(n.d.).Inari-yu bathhouse in Tokyo's Kita ward. Retrieved from https://www.wmf.org/project/inari-yu-

bathhouse

Lombardi, L. A. (2018, July 14). The naked truth about Japanese bathhouses. Star Advertiser, Travel
Section.

Machida, S. (2015, January). Let’s go to “Sento”, a public bath house! Retrieved from Japan Magazine:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sent%C5%8D

(2019).Prewar bathhouse of exceptional cultural and architectural value. Tokyo. Retrieved from
https://www.tripadvisor.com/Attraction_Review-g1066448-d15190247-Reviews-Inariyu-
Kita_Tokyo_Tokyo_Prefecture_Kanto.html