Turned Japanese - Part 3

On our last night in Japan, we decided to stay at a traditional Japanese hotel (ryokan) near some natural hot springs (onsen). From Tokyo, we took a train that looked like it originated from the 1970s and all the locals turned into paparazzi everywhere it went; locals stood with tripods on the side of the tracks to capture it.

After the unintentional detour, we arrived at the Bunzan Ryokan. Upon our arrival, we were served green tea whipped up into a bright green liquid, and sandy cakes. The woman looking after us was very talkative in spite of the fact that she spoke almost no English and we understood almost no Japanese. This was not a problem during the small talk segment but the instructions on how to use the onsen were more crucial.

Joe and I found the private male and female segregated indoor baths easily enough. Having read the guidebooks extensively, we knew the etiquette: bathe before entering the bath, do not stand while bathing - use the provided stools, etc. (The bath for women is seen on the left. The window to the right overlooked a parking lot so that any driver who looked up could see everything.)

However, we were a little confused on how to get to the outdoor baths for both men and women. However, we were willing to risk embarrassment to find out since the photograph of the onsen seen at the top is what convinced us to go to an onsen ryokan in the first place.

We decided to go exploring first then retrieve whatever equipment we might need later. When we got to the entrance where we had left our shoes behind, we found that our shoes had been replaced with rubber boots in our sizes. These were necessary because the area was covered in snow and because the ice deterrent of choice was a steady spray of water over the pavement. Scary but true.

Joe and I walked merrily over to hot springs, past some caged bears (explanations were in Japanese and therefore unreadable), and found change rooms just outside the springs. After a quick inspection, we marched back to our room and changed into the provided yukatas: three layers provided enough warmth to allow us to walk outside in freezing weather wearing nothing else.

It was not until our return home that realized that we had committed a few social faux pas in spite of our best efforts. The first was at the mixed gender outdoor onsen. Swimsuits were not allowed to prevent contamination of the water. The men covered their crotches with tiny face towels while the few women present covered their torsos in full towels, even in the water. Since I had brought only one towel and did not want to get it wet, I decided to take it off once I got into the water. It seemed like a reasonable idea since it was dusk by the time we got into the water and the steam coming off the water covered almost everything. Turns out that I was supposed to keep the towel on at all times.

So, there I was: the onsen slut, sitting nude in the water while children frolicked close by. To top it off, an obnoxious American started sidling over to me until I prompted Joe to move to the other side of the onsen. Later in the change room, Joe overheard him complaining that there weren't enough nude Japanese women and that he would have to get himself a Russian woman, maybe two.

Our second social faux pas was during the never ending dinner in our room. I made the mistake of sitting in front of the decorated wall while Joe sat facing it. As the man in the relationship, and therefore the assumed head of the household, Joe was supposed to sit in front of the decorated wall. That way, I, the woman and inferior, could admire him in front of the decorated wall. So I sat boorishly in front of the decorated wall, with my legs splayed out under the table. Again, so wrong, in retrospect.

The meal consisted of muliple dishes: flavoured tofu, sashimi, grilled river trout, fresh vegetables, and our favourite, shabu shabu: fondue of kobe beef. Since we did not understand the woman serving us, we reacted with a combination of delight and pain every time she appeared with another course to serve.

Our futons were laid out for us and they were extremely comfortable. We spent the evening watching Japanese television, imagining the various explanations for the relationship between the kickboxer and the nun in one live action remake of a popular manga.

When we woke up the next morning, we were served a huge breakfast consisting of unsweetened yogurt with a berry sauce, poached egg, salad, various pickled items, grilled fish, and my favourite, fermented soy beans (rotting). A bus was scheduled to take us to the train station but we had time to walk around and take photos like the one below.

Our trip to Japan was great and one I would highly recommend to anyone, not only because the culture is so fascinating but also because the locals are so tourist friendly in spite of the language barrier. We'll definitely be back, but with a better grasp of the language and hopefully, the etiquette.