Kristen and the Miracle of Onsens

Today I went to an onsen with Yukari, my speaking partner. From now on, every bath I will ever take is hereby declared a disappointment in comparison to today’s. It was totally sweet.

We took a bus from school to Hirakata-shi Eki, then another bus to Ibaraki-shi Eki, then another bus, this one a private shuttle, directly to Sumireno-yu baths. The building looked like a standard, boxy building. But you walk inside and everything was suddenly very posh. It was amazing, a two-story affair with a restaurant, massage parlor, and sauna-type things on the first floor. The second floor had a snack bar, library, and men’s and women’s baths.

Now, the Japanese word for bath, “ofuro,” can basically be a play on the word for “twenty-six,” so apparently on the 26th of each month they have special deals. That was a nice surprise. So we got a discount, and they gave us bottled water when we entered. For two hours, my grand total came to ¥1000—about $10. Not bad at all for two hours of anything, really; just wait and hear all the great stuff I got to do for those ten bucks! In America, those two hours would have cost me probably $200 at a spa, I bet.

We had left our shoes in a little lock box in the entranceway and got our little ID bracelets, towels, robes, and the bottled water from the lady at the desk. We went upstairs and got other lockers, where we left all of our things. And by all I do mean all. I was left with a hand towel, my glasses (I forgot to put my contact lenses in this morning, which was unfortunate because the glasses kept fogging up), and a bar of soap. Totally naked in front of God and everybody, including some very old women who may well have been animated prunes for all their wrinkles, a little girl probably about six years old who kept staring at me as the lone white person in the place, and my beautiful little waif of a speaking partner. Yes, the awkward turtles were spawning.

Okay, I make it sound terrible. It wasn’t a big deal at all. After living in a dorm for two and a half years, you really do become indifferent on some level to people seeing you naked. I think Yukari was a bit shy about things, actually, but I sure wasn’t. Dang it, I don’t get to frolic around naked from pool to pool very often, and I was going to enjoy it. Plus, my glasses were so foggy that I eventually took them off, so I really couldn’t see anybody else, which made things considerably more comfortable, I think. Anyway, it’s kinda fun to stand naked outside in winter. I’ve never done it before.

So, my Witt friends, anyone up for streaking the Hollow, followed by a nice bath?

Anyway, we rinsed off before getting into the baths. You are supposed to be clean before you enter the water, so it’s not like you’re actually sitting in anyone’s filth, which is much better than one can say about American baths. Really, sitting in a bubble bath is just a “you soup” when you think about it…gross. But this was freakin’ awesome.

First, we went to the outdoor section. It was surrounded by a high wall and had some very nice little garden plants. There was even a plasma screen TV showing the news, so you can sit and soak and get your weather forecast all in one. There were also lounge chairs that would be lovely in the summer, and a nice canopy covering the pools. The water was hot, though no hotter than a hot tub. They had thermometers set up at each pool so you knew what you were getting into; most of the ones we used were about 40°C (104°F). The cold outside air made the water steam, which was pretty cool. Anyway, after chilling (well, I guess “warming” would be a better term) in the main pool, we got into these really cool big urns that were overflowing with water. It was really cool, like swimming in an ancient fountain or something. It also reminded me of that story called “Two of Everything” where an old couple finds a big pot that doubles anything you put into it, which is great when you put in money but bad when you accidentally fall in.

Then we went inside and sat for a while in the bubbly pool, which was basically like a regular hot tub. We also tried the steam sauna, which I didn’t like too terribly much. It was just hard to breathe and kinda smelled funny, and I don’t like being sweaty anyway so saunas are lousy for me. Oh, by the way, none of the waters here smelled like sulfur or anything; some of them did have a bit of a smell, but it was pleasant. After that we decided we wanted to do some non-water things, so we washed off at the shower stations and put on our nice pink robes. I say robes, but they were really capri and tunic sets, I guess. Very comfy cotton, though.

We went downstairs, and it was nice to be fully clothed, I have to say. It was weird seeing the men walk around in their orange robe sets; I had rather forgotten that there was a whole other half of the building that I couldn’t enter because it’s men only at the moment!

Okay, we’ve all heard about Japan’s capsule hotels, right? Those places where you basically rent a drawer to sleep in for the night? The concept might have come from an onsen, really! There was this wonderful, wonderful room that I want to recreate in my sprawling, creepy mansion when I become a billionaire eccentric who frightens small children. You enter and it’s hot—again, about 40°C (100°F)—and very quiet, and fairly dark. There’s a wooden walkway leading through the room, and the floor around the walkway is covered with smooth, dark stones like the ones they put in those nice calming nature-sound fountains at stores like Brookstone. And there are these small dividers every few feet creating little cubicle or stall areas. What you do is take your onsen-provided towel, lay it down on the black rocks, which are heated from below, lie down on top of it with your head on the little wooden pillow they give you, and take a nap! All the while it’s warm and comfy, and there’s water rushing just under your head so it sounds very pleasant. It was great. Any place that actually provides a designated napping area is automatically amazing.

Unfortunately, the heat was too extreme for me to actually fall asleep. Still, it was a great concept, and if I could have turned the temperature down a bit you liketa died getting me out of that place. Then we went into the cold room, which was like an anti-sauna. It was fabulous, with these walls with a thin layer of bubbling water behind them, so it was like being in an aquarium. A pleasantly cold aquarium. Next we sat on these little hexagonal stools that I think were supposed to warm your butt, but I don’t think mine was working. I was underwhelmed, in any case.

And imagine this: You know those ball pool things they have at places like Chuck E. Cheese and places? Okay, imagine that scaled down, with a nice ledge to sit on on the side. And the balls aren’t germ-covered plastic things, but heavy, round pebbles in the colors of your standard Dippin’ Dots ice cream (probably also covered in germs, but I don’t think about that). And the Dippin’ Dots ball pool is heated from below, and you put your feet in and wiggle your toes under the rocks and it’s a lot of fun.

One thing I didn’t really like, though, was this suspiciously oven-like device that made me feel like Gretel in the witch’s house. It was this dark little one person-sized domed structure that you crawled into and lay down on the ground. And then there was this heat lamp shining down on me, and I felt a bit like a forgotten French fry stuck between double cheeseburgers at a McDonald’s. I didn’t stay in there long. It was just weird.

Then we went back to the bath area, did the outside thing, did the inside thing, and took showers. We got dressed, and used the really nice vanity area to blow dry our hair, and Yukari did her makeup again. I was amazed at how much planning they put into this place’s design: they provided everything you could need, from canned Cokes to Q-tips. (You had to pay for the drinks; the Q-tips were free.)

And then we were done, and we took the buses back to Ibaraki-shi Eki. Then Yukari suggested we do purikura, so we did. Purikura is basically this photo booth that Japanese young people tend to go nuts over. And it’s really fun, actually; much better than those American photo booths at amusement parks where it draws you in grayscale and charges you like $17. (Not that I’ve ever actually used one of those; Mom and Dad had the good sense to convince me early on that they are a waste of money, and I still hold to that. But I digress.) So you go in and it’s this fairly large space with nice lighting, and you put in your ¥400 (so it only cost me ¥200 because we were sharing). You use a touch screen to choose the different frames you want, then the insanely peppy teenage girl voice encourages you to strike different poses and it takes pictures of you goofing off.

When you’re finished, it asks you to go to another section of the photo booth (perhaps it should be called a photo mansion, really), where you doctor the photos. You can digitally write things on them, add effects like sparkles and hearts, and even give yourself princess crowns. You choose the size of the pictures, and it prints them out in sticker form so you can post obnoxious photos of yourself surrounded by dancing mushroom people anywhere you please. It was a total blast! My favorite picture, actually, is one that makes me look really, really awful, like a confused hybrid of a pig and a turtle. But I ran with it, and now there are some really funny comments, and a little mushroom man sitting on Yukari’s head. It’s one of those “you had to be there” things.

I was very pleased that Yukari and I were able to find enough conversation to fill most of the day. That had worried me more that anything, honestly. Still, I was nice to be on my own after the draining day of new experiences. When I got back to Hirakatashi, for supper I had a chicken sandwich from Mos Burger, which was delicious but overpriced. And I came home and wrote this monster entry, which has sapped what little energy I had after the onsen.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and I am a little bit sad. I want to be home with my family eating hamburger dressing and going to see some terrible movie that no one actually wants to watch, just because it’s tradition that we go to the movies. But that’s okay, if missing this one meal is my greatest worry in life, I figure I’m doing pretty good. Anyway, I’ll be celebrating in my own way. I’m going to McDonald’s and buying all the stuff I want and not feeling guilty about it. And I will eat as many chicken nuggets and cheeseburgers and fries as I want, and if the Makudo workers look at me funny, whatever. It’s Thanksgiving, and I’m going to celebrate.

Also tomorrow I go to tutor for the last time. It should be fun, but I’m so tired right now that I’m not looking forward to it.