The Korean Bathhouse -- Part 2: Experiential Learning

One Saturday, after two rather riotous nights (Friday had been a holiday), all parties agreed an afternoon of regeneration was in order. The method was the only dispute. Typically, we’d probably each simply stay home, play video games, read and eat comfort food without leaving our pajamas. But we could have done those things anywhere and at any time. Korea was calling.

According to at least one guidebook on the Land of the Morning Calm, one hasn’t truly experienced South Korea until he/she has ventured into the public bathhouse. I spent my previous post describing some of the culture and background surrounding the spa/bathhouse phenomenon, so I won’t do that here. This post is the story of my first visit to the nude, aquatic-relaxation center.

Danny, Brandon and I had been discussing bathhouses since our arrival in Busan. They’re integral to Korean life and are literally everywhere. But there was the obvious hesitation, largely if not solely, because it’d require dropping trou. The fear stemmed not so much from nudity in the presence of strangers, but in front of one another. I believe there’s modesty among male friends unique among my generation.

Personal note:
Not to minimize my friends’ reticence in matters of the flesh, but I found myself far less apprehensive in this regard than either Danny or Brandon. Perhaps it was my rather socially liberal upbringing (at least rhetorically so) that numbed my sense of shame. Anyone who knows Danny, Brandon and me would probably agree they are much closer to the social-modesty norm of boys our age than I.

Back to the story:
After a morning of instant messages, the stink and dehydration of a long weekend overcame the fear of male nudity and Danny and I settled on venturing to Taejondae Spa on Yeongdo Island, probably a mile from his apartment. Brandon did not join us this time, but would when we returned later in the week.

Just up until we walked through the massive entrance, it was difficult to determine that the Taejondae spa was in fact, the Taejondae spa. The massive building looked more like a small convention center than a spa and in front was arguably the largest parking lot I’ve seen in Korea.

The entrance was bustling with adults and kids coming and going, looking weary or refreshed accordingly. In exchange for a mere 7,000 won (approximately $5USD) she gave us each set of cotton pajamas and a numbered locker key and pointed us stage left – women were sent to her right.

Just outside the locker room was a small man on a stool, polishing some men’s dress shoes. Since Danny and I were both wearing sandals, there was little he could do for us, other than bark when we forgot to remove said sandals when walking onto the hardwood floors.
The first thing inside was a small convenience store stand selling everything from hard-boiled eggs and juice to fresh undershirts and socks. Danny and I moved across the room to our joint lockers. We opened them, perhaps half expecting to find some English language Blue’s Clue as to our next step. Everyone else in the room seemed to know what they were doing and where they were going. Beyond getting to our lockers, we were lost.

Not particularly anxious to disrobe, we tried exploring. But before we could walk through even a single set of doors, a man stopped us, pointed us back to our lockers motioning that we needed to remove our garments. Resigned, we turned back and upon reaching our lockers and began the process, giving each other one last look before removing our final coverings, just to make certain the other was still in on the pact.

Eventually we found our way out of the locker room and into the main bathing area. The room was a sight to behold with half a dozen pools, just as many sauna rooms and an enormous skylight. Again, I won’t go into too many details of the components of the bathhouse as I did in my previous post on the topic.

Danny and I entered the first pool in the room that we agreed was probably a warm-up pool. Just around 40° Celsius, the pool was comfy, warm but not hot or scalding. After soaking that in for a while we moved to the ‘health pool’ where a variety of different stations provide jets of water that blast your body’s aches and pains from all different directions.

We tried each of the pools, except for the ice cold one. We did go back and brave that one when we returned later in the week with Brandon. While each pool was relaxing and wonderful, the general atmosphere was less so this particular Sunday. Children ran through across the deck and cannonballed into the pools, splashing and generally roughhousing their friends. Our return visit in the middle of the week was far quieter. One interesting note, there were young children and adults from about age 20 to 90 in the bathhouse, but not one apparent teen.

Eventually we showered and retired back to the locker rooms to put on our comfy cotton robes. Venturing upstairs, we entered the massive co-ed hall where couples and families reunited. There were more saunas in the form of stone igloos. There was a Korean mini-restaurant selling gimbap and more hardboiled eggs. There was a sleeping room, an empty cove with dim lights and white noise where folks sprawled out and napped. Danny and I enjoyed that for at least thirty minutes.

For one last hurrah before we left, we sought out the masseuses. For 30,000W apiece, Danny and I each received extensive back massages that freed all types of muscles. These ladies knew how to pull on one arm or hand to get under and around knots are really break them up. There wasn’t any funny business, just a really fantastic massage.

And then it was over. Danny and I walked back up the island’s main drag to his apartment, ready for another night on the town.