Japan is a land of contradictions. On the one hand, its people are some of the most easily-embarrassed folks on the planet. At least once a day, you’ll notice a Japanese person putting a hand over their mouth and exclaiming, “Hazukashii!” (“I’m so embarrassed!”). I find it rather charming, actually – especially if it’s a young couple on their first date, giggling and turning red in the cheeks, like school kids.
Something entirely different happens, however, when Japanese go to a hot spring (onsen). Suddenly embarrassment and self-consciousness are thrown out the window. Walking calmly and confidently from pool to pool, naked as the day is long, everyone seems to be perfectly relaxed and comfortable. Being unclothed in front of strangers is the most natural thing in the world!
I wish I could say the same for myself.
Nude public bathing just isn’t something we do here in California, unless it’s a private hot tub. When you jump into a public pool, you’re wearing a swim suit, full stop. To do otherwise would be highly hazukashii — and quite possibly illegal.
And yet here I am at Ikenoyu Hot Spring in eastern Hokkaido, a beautiful, outdoor onsen on Lake Kussharu. Apart from two Japanese men submerged in the pool who may or may not be naked, I’m completely alone. Just me and the two dudes. Nearby a sign reads, “Bathing is mixed-gender, and swimwear is optional.”
And here lies my dilemma. I’ve brought my bathing suit. There’s a small changing room. I can certainly put my swim trunks on and play it conservative. When in Japan, though, shouldn’t I do as the Japanese do and get naked? Heck, I’m an adult – I’m okay with my body. Why not make like a local and jump on in!
“But what if women and children show up?” What then?
The Japanese word for pervert is “sukebe.” Visions of jail cells flash through my head. I do NOT want to be sukebe in Japan, no siree Bob.
In the end, I don my swimsuit.
Ikenoyu Onsen (and its nearby sister pool, Kotan Onsen) are part of the Mashu Kussharo Trail. Free to enter, the two hot pools abut the lake, affording stunning views of both water and nearby mountains. Slightly alkaline, the mineral-rich water feels silky and smooth to the touch—easing a myriad of aches and pains.
This outdoor onsen has a practical application as well. Back in the day, the indigenous people of this area – the Ainu – would use the warm water for soaking Manchurian elm bark. The extracted fibers from the inner bark were then used for making the thread they used to weave their kimono-like outer tunics.
Could I have gone commando at lake Kussharu? Yeah, probably. Behavior in Japan is highly fluid. What’s inappropriate in one setting is completely okay in other settings. “Call it situational morality.”
I’m glad I played it safe, though. I’m much rather be “hazukashii” then “sukebe.”
(Whether or not you “go native” on a trip is very much a personal decision. I’ve eaten whale and raw horse on trips to Japan – actions I never would have taken back at home. I’ve consumed the infamous blowfish sashimi (fugu), a fish so poisonous that, if prepared incorrectly, it can kill you in minutes. By and large, my motto has always been – if the locals are doing it, it’s probably okay. Having grown more conservative over the years, however, I’m not sure if I would do half the crazy stuff I did in my youth. I will say this: we should always try to look at foreign customs with non-judgmental eyes. Things are rarely black or white, right or wrong —they’re just different. As much as possible, we should try to respect the local traditions and when appropriate, take part. But as adults, as humans, we’re also allowed to express our boundaries and decline participation. Whatever you decide, do it with grace and respect. And try not to be “hazukashii.”)