お風呂、シャワーどうちらがいいですか? (Which is better, do you want to take a bath or shower?) My guesthouse host asked as she flung the ゆ noren curtains over and directed me towards the bathroom after we came back from dinner. ゆ also refers to 湯, the kanji for 'hot water'. These curtains symbolise the existence and entry to a bathhouse. I was puzzled because this was the first time someone asked me a question like this about bathing arrangements. It took me a second to process and then answered, “何でもいいです。” (Anything is ok.) Then, she paused as though wanting another round of confirmation, I decided on the shower option. “シャワーです。” (I will take a shower.) I have a bathtub at home in Japan, but it’s never used because taking showers are more convenient, faster and it saves a lot of water. Back home in Singapore, I don’t have the habit of taking baths because we don’t have a bathtub at home. Taking showers seemed to be the only option then. So when it came to having a choice, my mind struggled to make a decision. It’s a weird feeling to have. Then, soon after that bathroom episode, I thought about it again and was reminded of the brief conversation I had with a student in English class about the usage of baths and bathtubs in Japan. The fact that I don’t have a bathtub at home was surprising to her. I know how the Japanese enjoy taking their baths, either in the public sentos (bathhouses), or in the onsens (hot springs). I have gone to a few of these public facilities myself, and all the initial anxiety stemming from embarrassment and unfamiliarity has gradually vanished. Well, I figured that all it takes is this... The initial dash of courage as you slowly make your way into the bath area, using a towel as your secret weapon (actually everyone else’s). After exchanging pleasantries, enjoy the moment of being soaked with everyone’s chatter and steam rising from the water. I still recall my first onsen experience in Japan at Mikurigaike onsen in Murodo. As I dipped my feet into the water and gradually wormed my way in, the heat got to me instantly. I couldn’t help but exclaim “暑いです!” (hot!) as I joined an obasan in the bath, and then smiled sheepishly at her after that outburst. That actually became a conversation-starter. We were the only two people there at that time, in the evening just before the call to come down for dinner at 6pm rang through the PA system. I joined the other lodgers at the dining table and then started tucking into the array of dishes laid before us, complete with pickled vegetables (tsukemono 漬け物), simmered food (nimono 煮物), hotpot (nabemono 鍋物) and fried food (agemono 揚げ物). Being in a communal and cozy setting in the company of other lodgers was surprisingly refreshing and comfortable. I admit that it was awkward at the beginning. But like all awkward beginnings, you gradually grow used to them and take comfort in the knowledge that growth and embracing unfamiliarity is what makes us all feel alive.
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