Naked in Japan

There were naked women everywhere. I was still stuck by the entrance, hugging my towel to my still clothed chest. Welcome to the Japanese public bathhouse! My adoptive mother, Chieko, pulled me inside.

I knew it was true, logically speaking, that people were naked beneath all their clothing. Still, I must iterate that there is a distinct difference between knowing the woman next to you has breasts and then actually seeing them. My poor sheltered mind was realizing I wasn’t the only one to have skin…and other such covered things.

Towels, jacket, and socks all went into the locker easily. It was just like the girl’s locker room back in high school, I assured myself, except completely different. Finally, and with great amount of confidence and self persuasion, I stripped down and joined the crowd of pinkly flesh. The trick, I found immediately, was not to look down. The moment you looked down you realized you were naked, kind of like in those dreams where you accidentally go to school without any clothes on.

Chieko instructed me to cover up what I could with a smaller towel as she led me to the showers. These were not usual shower stalls, but stools with individual hand nozzles and a basin. Shampoo, conditioner and body wash were provided.

Each stool was only two feet away from each other, but within my small space I gained the sense of a personal bubble as I scrubbed every inch of my body. These women, from the elderly to the children, were not judging me. To them, this was a regular bath. When I expected to be stared at for my bigger build and lighter skin, I realized no one cared. I was sitting in a room full of nakedness and nothing was awkward about it.

After our showers we visited several different hot pools. Some women talked in groups, but most stared off into space or at televisions placed around the premises. The jet pool was hot enough to boil a fish, and depending on where you sat powerful jets were aimed at different parts of your back and torso.

We visited a sweat room, and then a sauna, where we sat in silent meditation. We rubbed salt all over our skin as we waited. The salt was good for exfoliation, and also left my dry skin healthier.

I saw many types of bodies while we soaked. Women I saw as skinny turned into boney creatures, tangled in their long spindly limbs. Older women sagged and reminded me of what will happen to my own body one day.

For the first time I realized what I saw in the mirror was normal. Scars, stretch marks, pimples, rashes, freckles, bumps, bruises, hair, rolls of skin—I saw all of it. I may not be as small as so many women in Japan, but I sat with a rejuvenating sense that I was okay with my body.

We soaked until I was completely flushed by the heat. I emerged from the water as a new, refreshed person. I became a more confident young woman. I was also very clean.

As Americans we are brought up to relate nakedness with awkwardness, and there is no true preparation for a public bathhouse. Realize that cultures differ, and if you want the real experience you can’t be afraid to let go. It is hard to imagine ever being embarrassed by anything ever again. After you share a bath with a dozen women in your birthday suit, most other things seem mundane in comparison.

So, I recommend to any of you venturing into the land of the Rising Sun: strip down and dive in. You’ll never be the same.