Kyoto Sento Me Happy

I have only minutes left on my pay as you go internet @ the hostel we're in in Kyoto.
My body is heavy and mildly zingy. I got my guts up to go to the local sento. Bathing public ally in Japan is a world unto itself; a wee social micro-nation with extra rules that, like all of Japan, are invisible. Throughout most of my travels in Japan the invisible rules pass me by like a sideswiping car. In the sento, however, a collision is inevitable. This predicted discomfort is why I had to get my guts up to go. I was growled at only once. Fellow washers moved away from me only twice. So all in all, relatively speaking, it was a screaming success.

I LOVE Japanese public bathing, sentos especially. It's a challenge to sit in front of a mirror on a plastic stool looking at yourself while you lather, scrub, rinse, lather, scrub, rinse to infinity.I love that squeeky clean is dirty to the Japanese who, after scrub sequence # 50, share your bath water. Skinless is more the order than squeaky. The sauna is never mediocre, naver. It's HOT, hotter than hot. I love that the cold pool is easy to sit in after the previous sequences of hot, piping hot and boiling volcanic hot baths, all on epidermisless skin. I love that women shave their entire bodies in the sento. I love that brushing teeth for half an hour is not uncommon, I feel glee as a result of the placement of the jets in the bubble pool (either side of the neck, sacrum, mid spine, backs of knees , each place varies but the jets are smartly arranged for theraputic success).

I have one minute left.
So simply. Today after shrine wandering and bike riding and eating magnificent food, sento made my day (year).

xx
d