steamin'

So, after our foray into the world of Korean saunas on our crazy vacation to seoraksan and naksan (the one at our hotel at the beach had a sea water sauna), I decided that it would be my mission to find the saunas in Gwangju, and wherever I go in Korea, really, because they are awesome. Much like the experience at Kabuki in SF, there is a standard series of pool and steam/dry saunas. But dare I compare the Korean sauna to the Japanese? No. That would be a bad idea (the two cultures don’t exactly find each other to be the best of friends due to the fact that Japan basically had Korea in a dictatorial stranglehold for the good part of its history). No, the Korean sauna is something unique unto itself. My favorite one, and the first one I visited in Gwangju, has three hot pools, one warm pool meant only for washing yourself off after scrubbing your body down (and, oh, do they scrub themselves down in Korea), a cold pool, and a large warm pool, both with crazy powerful jest coming out of the wall that you can use to massage your back, if you’re strong enough to not drown from their force. There’s a dry sauna and a steam room, both with these fabulous rock and crystal mosaics (rose quartz, amethyst, white stone, etc.) of suns and starry skies and lovely things.

Obviously, I’m an alien life form when I walk into these places. Most foreigners don’t visit them regularly, apparently. I’ve had a few people drop jaws of astonishment that I actually enjoy them. It’s very strange for a foreigner to want to spend a couple of hours soaking naked in warm water with a bunch of naked Korean ladies, I guess. But whatever. They stare at me for my skin, and for the large tattoo in the middle of my back. As many of you may know, tattoos are a big no-no in Korea, still. They signify gang membership. So, you can bet that those ladies just might wonder if I’m part of some crazy gang. Totally. With a few exceptions, everyone has been totally nice and helpful to me at the saunas I have been to. I can’t communicate with anyone, of course, but there are lots of smiles and nods, and anyanghaseyo’s. There are Korean ladies of every age in these places – grandmas, moms, babies, toddlers, teenagers, adolescent girls. Everybody hangs out together. It’s definitely social hour. The ladies chat for hours. They scrub each other’s backs with the little loofa gloves you can buy in every store. They give each other masks of fresh grated carrots and cucumber. They gossip about me, I’m sure. But every time I’ve sat down to scrub myself down and wind down my sauna experience, a nice older lady comes right over and offers to scrub my back down too. Of course, I wince in pain at the intensity of this scrub – while it’s par for the course for Korean ladies, rubbing our bodies raw for beauty isn’t a ritual for us Americans. It’s totally fabulous. Every part of the experience. I’m alone, really, no one to talk to. I can’t understand anything. So all I can do is soak and show these Korean women that I actually know what I’m doing and actually enjoy it.

On Sunday, I spent an hour at my sauna after a long day in the garden and an unhappy argument with Jim. As I sat in the steam room, finally getting down the ritual of sitting on the floor on a towel with it draped between my legs so as to maintain the modest vibe of all the other ladies in the place, getting as close as I can to the large tub of cold water in the middle of the steam room that is constantly replenished by a hose attached to a spigot on the wall. This is the KEY to staying in the sauna and why I see ladies who can hold out on there for an hour just chatting it up. You fill a bowl with water and just splash your body with it the whole time you’re in there. Wonderful idea. That and the ice cold ice coffee that a nice lady from the sauna brings you in you order it from the front area. See, in these saunas, there are usually these little gift shop things where you can buy clothes, soap, shampoo, mud packs, soda, water, etc. And I’d been seeing these plastic glasses full of some sort of cold iced beverage floating around in the hands of almost every lady in the joint. Since I have no way of asking anyone anything, I couldn’t figure out what the concoction was. But on Sunday, as I sat in the sauna with a mom, her daughter and another woman, and the beverage lady came in with a tray containing a bowl of the iced beverage in question and four glasses, a little leap of hope sprang up in my heart that maybe, being the alien that I am, they would be inspired to offer me a drink of the luscious looking ice drink. And so they did! Ah, I drank it in big gulps, finally realizing after two or three that it was iced coffee. Wonderfully sweetened, cold, iced coffee served in a bowl with a ladle to scoop it into your cup. AH. So refreshing. I was so happy I did a little dance in my head.

So, the sauna is the other great thing that has happened to me lately. It’s all mine. I love it.

I’ve been thinking about writing an article for the Gwangju News (our international magazine published by the place where I’m taking Korean classes) that is about how to stay healthy through holistic practices in Korea – yoga, acupuncture and saunas. I fear that I’ll have to give up my solitude in my sauna, but it seems like such a waste to not share these three things with folks here who are, most likely, struggling with some of the same disconnection and confusion as I am. So we’ll see. If I can pull it together, the magazine will give me a translator and I’ll be able to interview my yoga instructor and my acupuncturist. That would be way cool.

Love to you all

catie