There's really nothing like meeting a bunch of people for the very first time and then getting naked with them.
This is the conclusion I have reached after spending last weekend at the mountain cabin of Geoffrey's boss, at a little cultural-exchange camp that included a visit to an onsen -- Japanese public bath using naturally heated spring water. The camp was mainly a forum for practicing English speaking and listening to native speakers, so Geoffrey and I and our new friend George from Scotland were the only non-Japanese there. For most of the weekend, we were the experts. But the tables were turned at the onsen, a place fraught with written (not that we could read them) and unwritten rules, where a breach in etiquette or departure from the established procedure is a really big deal. Many onsens, in fact, do not allow non-Japanese to enter. Which is, of course, extremely racist and wholly unfair, but it's motivated by the intense Japanese fear of the excruciating awkwardness caused when non-Japanese go to an onsen and -- gasp! -- fail to follow the standard procedure.
At this non-racist onsen, the boys managed to stay with the group of men from the cabin and thus had guidance through the onsen experience, but there were only two other women with us, and I lost them as soon as we entered the onsen building. So I was on my own.
I was stumped right away, as the men's and women's changing rooms (everything -- including the baths -- are separated by sex) were labeled by words, not symbols. So first I had to hang back and wait for someone to come in or out of one of the rooms, so I could figure out how not to go into the men's room. Once that happened, I found a locker and commenced taking all my clothes off. Luckily, I was so engrossed in trying to catch up with the women in my group that I didn't have time to freak out too much about being completely naked in front of strangers. I wandered out to the main bathing area and saw no one familiar. Of course, it was steamy in there, so it was difficult to make out faces -- especially since I was trying my best not to actually look at anyone. Now I understand how men get through the whole peeing together thing. Adding to my difficulty was the appalling fact that I'd relied too much on what people were wearing to identify them. I guess when you meet a lot of people at the same time, you try to help yourself remember names (and, apparently, as I learned too late, faces) by linking them to something obvious, like a bright red shirt, or being exceptionally tall, or a nifty bracelet. All of these things were shed or not visible for the onsen, so I was out of luck for someone to show me the ropes.
Luckily, I'd read about onsens in some Japanese travel books, so I had a little bit of knowledge to draw on. I noticed a row of low showers as soon as I entered the main bathing room, so I knew to go there first and wash off -- you only soak in the hot springs, never cleanse. After that, it was time to select a pool. Geoffrey's boss had mentioned that this onsen had the fairly rare feature of having pools of varying temperatures -- a polite way of saying that probably there would be one that we gaijin could handle. For, you see, when I say "hot springs," I don't mean "warm springs." I don't mean bathtub temperature, and I don't mean hot-tub temperature. I mean "hot," as in, "two degrees hotter and this pool would be boiling." The pools may have been labeled by signs, but I couldn't read them. So I chose a pool no one was in, thinking the ones filled with Japanese people probably were the nice hot ones. The water wasn't as shocking to the skin as I'd expected. Also in guidebooks I'd read tips on how to not scream like a woman in the onsen, so I remembered to walk in quickly, then find a spot to sit and try not to move. So I got settled in quickly, all the way up to my neck, and watched my skin turn alarmingly pink and felt my heart beating in a weird way that made me wonder if it was going to burst or perhaps turn to goo. But after a minute or so it felt pretty good, and I can see how it would be very relaxing. I was a little too worried about messing something up and too obsessed with thinking: "Wow. I'm in Japan. Naked. And alone." to relax fully, but it was a nice experience all the same.
After about half an hour, I decided I was ready to get out, so I stood and walked to the little stair at the side of the pool. When I was fully out, I was pretty sure I was going to faint, naked and alone, on the spot. But I managed to get myself back to the showers, where I rinsed off with some coolish water and felt better. I got dressed and back to the building's entrance without incident, meeting up with a very pink Geoffrey who pointed out that I, too, was extremely pink.
The rest of the weekend was a good, fully clothed, time. Talks and meals around a campfire, my first experience sleeping on a tatami-mat floor, walks in the woods around the cabin. Sometimes living on a military base it's easy to forget what country you're in, but this weekend definitely was a good reminder.
