We
laid down in shallow gravels wearing nothing but the thin cotton robes
called yukata and they smiled as they buried us. With a
medium sized shovels and sweat dripping off their faces two young
Japanese boys, raked their bounty over my chest and smoothed out the hot
sand.
I was in it from the tips of my
toes to the top of my neck. Hot moist Pacific ocean sand.
Cleaned and purified from the Chiba beach less than five minutes away.
For
fifteen minutes, we laid turning our necks to the side to looked at each
other. It took less than six minutes for my skin to itch, and more
than eight before someone began to make jokes of who would last the
longest. I made it all the way.
Enduring....Fifteen minutes of
feeling my heartbeat pulse through my body as the heat of the sane
cooked by back and rear end like the chocolate chip cookies I so loved
to bake.
When the time came to sit up and sand scattered all over my body, caked
my fingernails and sat gritty on my skin, I laughed. Not for the
freedom but for the cool breeze coming through the open door
.
A little while late after disrobing and taking a shower, I ventured into another Japanese tradition: the onsen. Cleanliness is next to godliness and here in Japan they have taken bathing to new level. Here you can step into a place with waterfalls, Jacuzzis, sulfur baths, electric shocks both inside under high ceilings or outside under the clouds.,
With two towels: medium and small, I stepped through a cloth covered door labeled "women." This lead me to a large locker and dressing room where I disrobed. All of my belongs from earrings to underwear went into a locker and all I can left with was a small hand towel, a key on my wrist and a smile. What else can you do walking around naked.
Steeping
through an automatic door, the sounds of water greeted me. To the
left, shower stalls with mirrors and round plastic seats to sit while
showering. The hot water along with sweet scented body soap, and
shampoo encouraged me to close my eyes and wash more than four times.
After I was clean, I rinsed off and grabbed my little towel trying to
cover as much as possible but failing. No matter. Being a
foreigner in a Japanese public bath is a a promise for curious looks,
being an African-American in a public onsen is a guarantee for
open mouthed stares.
Needless to say, I submerged my body one inch at a time into the hot
water. Most of the pools had to be 42 degrees Celsius or
above, But the sound of the trickling water, the curling waves of steam
and the bubbles leads to a relaxation more intense than your everyday
soak in the tub, and the intense heat
water and steam promote relaxation.
I left with my friends after an hour, my skin glowed, my muscles limp,
and eyelids droopy. I went to bed early and dreamed of swimming.
