WB071: Sentō Encounters | Part 1

A sentō (Japanese: 銭湯, English: public bathhouse) is probably the least ideal place to people-watch, as everyone is naked.

I think it is OK to people-watch. Just be sure not to stare and mind your own business.

One cold, wintery Wednesday night, I went to seek refuge at my neighbourhood sentō. I first took off my shoes and placed them in the sentō locker.

Sentō lockers are old school. A wooden plaque - often with a faded locker number - is used to lock & unlock the door instead of a key. This plaque locks the door once you remove it from its slot.

That Wednesday evening, at around 930PM, about 60% of the lockers were missing their wooden-numbered plaques.

Anticipating a busy evening ahead, I wondered if I will get to enjoy some personal space in the bath. Or will I be squished body-to-body with strangers?

The elderly receptionist

I approached the sentō reception, manned by a drowsy-looking lady with a healthy head of white hair. The last time I saw her, I couldn't quite tell if her eyes were half open or half closed.

"Futari no otona, kudasai (Two adults, please)", I said.

"Sen hyaku en, desu (That will be JPY1,100)", she replied in a hazy, whispery voice.

Probably north of 80-years old, she is wearing a royal blue-coloured fleece jumper and looks ready for bed. Understandably so. How many 80-year olds do you know who are out and about past 6PM?

Seeing this receptionist brings to mind the occasional worry I have for the future of this sentō and any small business run by seniors. Apart from her, I have only ever seen one other staff, a man probably in his late 50's who wears a back brace.

My thoughts jump to the yakitori (Japanese: 焼き鳥) restaurant I frequent that is run by an elderly couple. Come to think of it, it has been a while since I paid them a visit.

The yakuza-like guys

As I enter the bath area, the sight of three tall, heavily-tattooed Japanese men immediately catches my eye. They wear clean, buzz-cut hair and are seated at the edge of the bath engaging in friendly banter.

Their bodies are well-built and covered in irezumi (Japanese: 刺青) - Japanese style tattoos - from shoulders to knees. Even their buttocks are tattooed. That must've been painful.

In Japan, irezumi are associated with the Japanese organised crime syndicated called yakuza (Japanese: ヤクザ). In the past, yakuza and anyone having tattoos were barred from sentō, though this rule has been gradually relaxed.

One guy's back was completely covered with a fierce-looking tiger's head. What does it mean, I wonder?

I didn't really need to resist the urge the ask.

I couldn't make out the irezumi of the other two men. However, I am certain they were not of your typical Western-style tattoos: heart shapes, love messages or the names of ex-lovers.

I proceeded to pick out an empty shower area, and first gave the sentō-provided yellow Kerorin (Japanese: ケロリン) bucket and stool a good rinse with hot water. After all, you never know how they have previously been used.

Kerorin is the name of a Japanese analgesic medication. Today, the company that makes it - Naigai Yakuhin Co., Ltd. (Japanese:内外薬品) - is probably more famous for its yellow sentō pails than its medication.

I filled up my Kerorin bucket once more and splashed my shower area with hot water.

The seat next to mine is vacant, though the space is reserved by someone's "sento set" (towel, shampoo, soap). Always good practise to err on the side of caution and not move anyone's stuff, wherever you are.

As I showered my body with hot water, I shaved my face with a double-edged razor. Public baths are a great place to have a shave. There is hot water at the ready and the steam in the air helps open the pores, minimising the risk of unwanted nicks.

As the razor glided across my skin, another heavily-tattooed man - not part of the first "yakuza" group - sat down in the vacant seat next to me. Mystery solved.

This man was stouter and far fiercer-looking because of his long hair and very tanned skin. He looked like he hadn't smiled in years.

I am not sure why, but I became really nervous. To be clear, I was not in any danger of getting attacked, but my imagination couldn't help but start going wild, fuelled by the stereotypical violent scenes from yakuza movies.

Note to self: maybe bring a safety razor next time. Or an electric one?

Actually, it might just be better to pick another seat.

--Ends