Run For Cover

In Japan, you are told one of the "must have" cultural experiences is to visit an onsen. An onsen is a public bath, similar to a hot spring, only much more formal and everyone is naked. Also, the women and men are segregated into different parts of the building. I was told the onsen was traditionally a place for people to congregate as equals. Everyone being naked allowed people to rid themselves of social status. My wife and I were invited to one of these baths by our friend Anna and her friend Phil. Phil was from England, but had been in Japan for a while. He was more than willing to take me under his wing while we bathed in the onsen. This was good in a way, there are a lot of rituals and customs at an onsen and this would reduce the chance of me offending everyone. The problem of course is being naked in public. I tried explaining this to Phil. "Phil, I'm an American, we're not comfortable being naked together" (cue Toby Keith). There are, of course, exceptions to this. My friend Andy is a perfect example. In high school, after a basketball game while everyone else came out of the shower with their towel around their waist, Andy would just drape his around his neck and walk to the lockers. Standing there, stark naked, shooting the breeze, he'd take his time. While the rest of the team would quickly shimmy their boxers on under their towels like the decent repressed Midwesterners they were, the first thing Andy would put on was his wristwatch. Thankfully, as I was awful at sports I rarely had to shower, and if I did, I would likely spray myself with sink water, walk into a stall and wait until I felt enough time had passed for people to believe I had showered.

But Phil was persistant, and as many people know, men can't admit to being afraid to be naked with other men, you have to put on the "What's the big deal?" face and find a stall to hide in. So, I had no choice but to go. As my heart pounded, we walked into our locker room. Pretending to be fine, I coolly asked, "Phil is this my modesty towel?" A modesty towel is what you are given in these baths. It is about four inches wide and about three feet long, like a scarf. It's to place before your genitals when leaving one pool and walking to the next, or into the sauna etc. In other words it was my security scarf. (It cannot however, be taken into the water of any of the pools and should not be used in the shower.) I took a deep breath as Phil walked into the shower room. (You shower prior to going in and upon leaving the onsen. The whole process is very sanitary.) As we walked to the showers, me with my modesty towel where it should be, Phil with his draped over his shoulder like a British Andy, I became confused as I scanned the shower room. Before a giant full length mirror that stretched from one side of the room to the other, there was a line of what can only be described as footstools. They were a foot and a half high from the ground and about three or four feet apart from each other. Phil sat down on one and offered me the stool next to him like it was a seat in a restaurant. I gave him the best "sure, this is normal" nod I could and sat down. Now, I had never wondered what I looked like squatting naked with vanity lights streaming down on me, but thanks to this giant mirror it was out of my hands. I was pretty tempted to grab the shampoo and apply it directly to my eyes, but the thought of blindly trying to find the god forsaken bath held me back. I rapidly washed myself, which is not easy in that position, grabbed my modesty towel and waited patiently for Phil to lead me deeper into this nightmare.

The onsen was actually quite beautiful. Though the showers were indoors, all of the five or six different pools were outside, under the night sky. Each pool offered some slight difference in the water, whether it was the temperature, mineral content, or aroma. I obviously couldn't tell the difference, I just wanted to be waist deep in one as quickly as possible. We waded into one of the nearest pools and I realized there was no waist deep. The pools weren't a whole lot higher than lap deep. But water is water, and in my case shelter. Phil entered first and took the corner which I soon realized was the only shaded place in the whole pool. There were no bubbles, no waves, just crystal clear water. Phil began happily chatting, about what, there's no way to tell. I was too busy nervously trying to move my legs in an angle that would give me some coverage, but with the overhead lighting it was useless. I continued nodding, pretending to be interested, desperately waiting for him to shut the fuck up and move on to the next pool. There could be shade there.

Instead, we headed to the salt bath, on our way we passed what looked like a wet slab of rock I had seen someone lying on earlier. The man I saw lying down had his modesty towel where it should be. It seemed almost pleasant to me at that point. A short break from all the nudity. Phil saw me look at the empty slab and asked, "You want to try it?" "Sure" I said eagerly. Phil who was in teacher mode throughout the entire horror show, told me about how nice the slab is. He talked about how the water running over the slab was as hot as the springs, "Half your body is warm, the other, out in the cold. It's a wonderful sensation" he said, "Just lie down here like this". I couldn't believe it but instead of covering himself like the decent gentleman I saw lying there earlier, he rolled up his towel and used it as a pillow. "WHAT THE FUCK PHIL?", I would have screamed, if I wasn't busy playing it cool and rolling up my towel too. "Ah, yes Phil, this is quite a sensation isn't it." We were now two naked white men lying outside on a slab of wet concrete. To top it off, our feet were pointing, eye level, straight at the people enjoying one of the other baths. Can you imagine their view? I didn't think it could get any worse, but as we stood up Phil pointed to a light off in the distance. "Can you believe the road is just there?" he asked, "Nothing between you and 'em." Just then headlights nearly blinded me as a car came around the corner. It was perfect really, I was completely exhausted. My dignity gone, I just moped from one pool to the next after that, waiting impatiently for the end, until it was finally over. One more stop at the mirror showed I looked more haggard afterwards than I did when we first got there. After walking to our lockers, while getting dressed Phil asked, "So how do you feel?"

I could honestly say, as I stood there half dressed, with the comfort of wearing underwear again, I had never felt more relaxed.