Seeing Myself in the Naked Korean Eye

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They warned me the Korean bath houses were an intimate and intimidating experience. They were on the right track...

We have been wandering the Metropolitan streets of South Korea for a few weeks now- "killing time" until our warm welcome on a Philippines beach. Classes begin in three weeks, and the susurrous Siberian wind has already lost its romance as it comes at you, biting through the trees.

But I have no intention of "killing time" for a moment on this trip. This is the time to live all the life I have to give, and I'm give'n er...That means finding a way to feel alive in a place full of cold expressions (I know, the people aren't cold, only their expressions...) and freezing air.

We have toured the palaces, tasted the cusine, pantomimed our way into countless nuseums and restaurants. We have mabaged to stay fed, stay refreshed, and stay focused despite our dismal hangul vocabulary.

And although we are knee deep in the "Korean expreience", inside I am aching for authenticity. Maybe the anxiety I am feeling is quilt for anticipating our upcoming trip elsewhere. Maybe it is coming from the recogntition of too many days in Itaewon, the Western end of Seoul. We had planned to visit the DMZ by now, and spend a few nights in a Buddhist Temple, living as a the monks do. Maybe I have already decided that until these tasks are completed I can not be content with my participation in the Korean context.

The hot springs were an afterthought today. More appropriately, they were an activity we could take or leave..and we almost left it, after getting lost on the buses and being standed on a cold road on the outskirts of Daejeon. We spent a few hours already wandering the vacant street of the "93 Expo Park. Cold, abandoned by all humanity, the baths seemed nothing less than unneccessary.

but, serendipitously, the bus dirver sought us out, dropped us off on a road with a vague wave in the direction we were suppsed to walk, and the first hotel we stopped at for directions happened to be the desk of the hot springs (how that is random...THE hot springs being inside a totally arbitrary hotel on a street and we happen to walk right up to it). 4000 won, through the doors on our left.

As I suspected, the baths were a communal room of naked bodies, all of which were thin little Korean women. But, when in Rome.....besides, eventually you have to accept the skin you are in, albiet not usually through such intense circumstances.

The room is circular, with aisles of taps to the left, mirrors with lights above reminiscent of a dressing room for superstars (I know I am a superstar, but it was a little much), hand held showers above each mirror, stools, soap, rags, scattered small tubs. Girls were running around, woman scrubbing the crap out of themselves, one another- pink raw flesh shining in every direction. Thinking only of any possible way to grasp for a comfort zone I race to the empty and moderately warmed pool due north and slid deep into the water, out of the gaze of intrigued Asian women. While I am hiding and trying to observe without observing I notice a sign posted on the wall for the tiny occassion a foreigner ventures into this insane environment...it was instructions as to how to procede with an authentic korean bath...shower to clean the skin, hot bath to open pores, sauna, shower again, hot, cold, jacuzzi, cold, hot, shower, freedom....

It is now sauna time. I peek inside. 3 women sit in a powwow in the center of the room on towels. Towel!!!- I run back to the lcoker room. Now, with the proper gear, towel in hand, naked body....time to penetrate to fortress of women.

I peek in again. Do or die Shawna....I stroll in, stepping over bodies, and perch myself in the corner, facing the women, not able to get more than centimeters from their skin, ready for anything.

They look over, and went back to their conversation. I felt slightly dissapointed, and slightly relieved. then I caught the eye of the woman on the floor facing me. She smiles (that's a first). Then she speaks some words to me that I do not understand. I motion my incomprehension. She looks at her friends, tries again. "You look...." stumbles, pauses for the word...looks at her friends. They shrug.

" You American?"- "Canadian" I say awkwardly...humbly..."Je-soos?".......I pause, utterly lost. "Je-soos? Belief?" Ohhh....I search her face for the answer she's looking for, the one that won't end this awkward encounter in dead silence. "Yes" I say. She smiles.

"You look befival..." I smile and shake my head, look awkwardly into my hands.

....Pause, then "Pretty!" she shouts, "you very pretty!" She is pleased with herself.

Suddenly I feel overwhelmed. "Kamsa hamnida" I say and smile. This is what I have been waiting for. A communal moment. The three women start talking again, the one to my right putting her hand on my knee and smiling in acknowledgement, welcoming into their little pink naked club. For awhile I sit there, smiling with them while they speak together of things I cannot understand. but it doesn't matter anymore. They have let me in. Occassionally the older woman with her hand on my knee will turn and point to my freckles, look up and smile, and continue gabbing about things that have nothing to do with the skin pigment.

After awhile the woman on the floor in fron tof me stands up to leave. She looks at me, "I am pleased to have meet you" she bows slowly. I bow my hed in return. "Pleased to meet you". She bows again, "bye!", and bounces out of the room. The other women smile, close their eyes, lean back against the wall. I take a deep breath, smile, and do the same.

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Comments

[Krystal]

hey chick
Don't forget us wikkid Calgarians buddy.....like myself I mean. Have fun hun and keep up with the info. it's wikkid!!!