Bath Story: Encounters and Discoveries at the Sento

Is this it? At the end of the hallway, two doors face us. On each, a small colored sign. Pink on the left, blue on the right. But which side to choose? Are the color codes the same in Japan: pink for women and blue for men? What if it's the other way around? It wouldn't be our first surprise in the Land of the Rising Sun.

I'll check it out. Worst case, I figure a woman intruding into the men's changing room will be less of a problem than a man in the women's...

Ignoring François's whispered pleadings, I crack the door open and find myself in a changing room emanating a pleasant warmth and dim light. No one around... oh wait, a woman who is finishing undressing. Phew, I'm on the right side. I take a step back to signal to François: > !

How do these Japanese public baths work?

I should have taken another look at this article I found online before coming... But no, too impatient to take a shower after the hike on those steep roads to get to the hotel, I preferred to rush in headfirst. Act before thinking...

My new mission: make as few blunders as possible.

These baths follow all sorts of rituals. One step at a time, I undress and approach the door that separates me from the baths. Should I go in completely naked? Should I take my towel with me? With my head full of hesitations, I once again decide to take action...

I open it.

The room is as large as the changing area, but it radiates much more heat and humidity. To the left, a shallow tub. To the right, white plastic stools lined up facing mirrors, each accompanied by a faucet, a shower head, a basin, and bottles of soap.

At the end of the room, a woman sitting on one of the stools washes herself diligently. The same one I had seen undressing. Rubbing the soles of her feet vigorously with a small towel, she splashes herself with the small shower head fixed in front of her while filling the small basin at her feet. I sit a few stools away and decide to mimic her behavior. After what felt like an eternity, the woman finally stands up, ending her long wash. It's time to get into the hot water.

With the same delicacy as my model, I dip one foot, then the other into the smooth water. My movements scarcely disturb the tranquility of the tub. Its depth is perfect for sitting while keeping my head above the water and immersing myself completely. I hold back a sigh of relief, allowing only a deep breath to escape.

Silence. The water flows.

Only the sound of water filling the tub breaks the ambient silence. Zen, zen, zen. Chin under water, my gaze is lost in contemplation of the swirling smoke rising from the tub. The mirrors have turned into strange foggy shapes on the walls.

I think back to the last few days. Since we left Kyoto to start our train journey, we've spent every night in a new place: Nara, Himeji, Hiroshima, Miyajima. And now here, on the island of Shikoku, amidst the lush mountains, enjoying the daiyokujo >> (or sento) of the hotel. And tomorrow in a ryokan with an onsen... All these landscapes, all these experiences! I smile to myself and shut my eyes. I feel so good, so far away from everything, I could fall asleep...

How long do you stay in a bath?

This thought strikes my mind like an electric shock. And me, how long have I been here? Without waiting for the motion of the woman not far from me, I leave the tub. I must have been here for twenty minutes, I get out. I get dressed, hesitant to wear the yukata (kimono) provided by the hotel for fear of looking foolish, and rejoin François in the hallway.

After a hearty shabu shabu (Japanese hot pot) at the hotel restaurant, we decide to take another bath. But this time, I'm wearing a yukata. I enter the changing room, deserted. I feel more confident, thinking I know what awaits me behind the door.

What a naive!

Barely entering the wash room, a naked woman smiles at me from the bath. An old lady like in the movies. White hair, missing teeth, mischievous look. I greet her with a slight nod and prepare to go to my stool when she says to me in a soft, sing-song voice:

I reply and repeat the welcome. But she shakes her head and hands, laughs, and starts again:

Yes, of course, Konbawa I say then. We are in the evening, a > is more appropriate.

Then the strangest language lesson of my life begins. Naked on my stool (which I did manage to reach), facing this Japanese grandma just as naked as me, now out of the bath, I stumble over the words meticulously delivered by my (self-proclaimed) teacher.

But soon words are not enough, she adds gestures. Konichiwa comes with three clear hand movements framing the face. Konbawa, on the other hand, gets a single smooth hand movement sliding in front of the face from top to bottom.

What should I do? How did we end up here?

I continue to repeat while sharing the laughter of my grandma. Laughter of misunderstanding. Laughter of surprise. Laughter of pure joy at this improbable exchange.

Once she sets the basics of my learning, she starts giving me endless tirades in Japanese. I smile humbly. She continues. Pauses and looks at me. I nod. Always agree when in doubt. She smiles. Phew, I was right. She resumes. In her new tirade, I perceive the word > or something like it.

I feel this conversation will never end.

The lady laughs heartily again and resumes a long tirade where I catch Europe and America here and there. I'm back to nodding along. In front of her whirlwind of speech, I resume my washing, the shower head still in hand. Her uninterrupted flow suddenly concludes with an arigato konbawa (thank you, good evening), which I repeat one last time.

As she closes the door behind her, she gives me one last toothless smile, one of those smiles that come from the heart and light up the whole face. Then, like a little girl, she quickly shuts the door while laughing at her little joke.

Indeed, Japan hasn't finished surprising me...

For those who feel deprived of images after this story (taking pictures in a public bath isn't exactly the easiest thing to do!), here's our Japan travel video full of sweetness, including images of an onsen... Safe travels!

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