On a first-time adventure in Japan, writer James Shackell got to grips with the country’s bathhouse culture by mastering the etiquette for taking a dip.
Okay, I’ll admit it, I was nervous about using an onsen in Japan. I’m not a big nudist. Because apart from, say, actual nudists, who is?
So, to strip off and bathe in front of a bunch of Japanese strangers (soon be come close friends), not to mention a few of my fellow travellers with whom I shared miso soup earlier and would have to make small talk with for the next 10 whole days, filled me with apprehension.
An onsen, for the uninitiated, is a traditional Japanese bathhouse where you sit in piping hot water and cleanse from the outside in. To save you from the awkwardness – and prepare you for what you will find lurking in the steam – I’ve prepared this revealing guide.
1. You will be naked. But so will everyone else
It may seem self explanatory, but there were a number of people on our trip, myself included to be frank, that expected to be allowed in wearing bathers. ‘Nope’, we were told by our trip leader Sylvia, ‘You go in as you came into this world’. To clarify, that means naked, not screaming.
I’ve heard that some onsens won’t admit people with visible tattoos but all I can say is that in the monastery in Koya-san that didn’t seem to be a problem. The 60-year-old Japanese man gave my ill-considered ink no more than a friendly, if uncomprehending, smile. Did I mention you’ll be naked? Let’s move on.
Read more: Everything I wish I knew before going to Japan
2. What to do with your clothes
Most onsens are divided into two sections, three if you count the showers. There’s the changing room and the steam/bathroom. You enter the changing room and leave your clothes, shoes, wallet and watch and whatever else in a small basket, which sits on a shelf. Leave your big towel out here; all you need in the bathroom is the small wash towel, which sits on your head.
I never worked out the point of the wash towel, as it would take a Titanic-size ice cube to cool down your head in there. For inbound clothing as you enter the changing rooms, I’d recommend something simple, like a robe. You don’t want to be hopping around undoing belts and things at this point.
3. Washing before the washing
It’s considered very bad form to simply hop straight into the bath without washing first. You’ll notice off to the side a row of miniature stools, each with a shower head and a bar of soap next to it. The idea is to sit uncomfortably on these stools and wash yourself thoroughly before getting in the bath. And I mean thoroughly. It fits with the meticulous and conscientious nature of Japanese society.
Like anthropologist Scott Clark said, ‘to take a bath in Japan with an understanding of the event is to experience something Japanese. It is to immerse oneself in culture as well as water.’
4. Soak it all in
The best part. There’s something freeing and joyous about sloshing around wearing nothing at all. In earlier times, women and men bathed together, but single-gender onsens have been the norm since Japan opened its doors (and tubs) to the Western world during the Meiji Restoration. The water itself feels amazing. It’s usually at least 40 degrees or hotter, sourced from geothermal springs, and must contain (by law) at least one of 19 designated chemical elements like iron or sulphur.
A few Japanese locals waved at me, smiled and said something I didn’t understand. I waved awkwardly back, the international symbol for ‘I hope what you said wasn’t an insult but I have no way of knowing for sure.’
5. Time to go
You’ll figure out pretty quickly that the onsen isn’t really something you can do for hours. The water is just too hot. Stay more than 30 minutes and you’ll come out looking like a boiled lobster. When you want to leave, nod politely to your new Japanese friends, hop out and scurry back to the changing room.
I have to admit, after I’d been brave and done it once, the onsen lost its anxious edge. Nobody cared about nakedness in there. My new Japanese friends couldn’t have been less self conscious and their attitude kind of rubbed off. I won’t say the experience has transformed me into a proud nudist (steady on, now), but I did leave more comfortable in my own skin. So, bring on the next bath time.
Ready to brave the onsen? Liberate yourself on a small-group adventure with Intrepid.
Image credit: Feature image c/o spDuchamp.
