I find it strange that in our language these words with seemingly polar meanings differ in spelling by only one wee letter. Amuse. Abuse. Likewise, the pronunciation of ‘b’ versus ‘m’ is quite similar. We press the front part of our lips together to initially produce both sounds. However, to differentiate, the ‘b’ sound, (much like my word of focus ‘abuse’), is a bit more forceful, requires more action to produce, and necessitates pushing air from your mouth, whereas the ‘m’ sound (as is true for my other word of focus ‘amuse’), creates a softer sound, lips remain closed; one can possibly even transition easily to a smile from the softer ‘m’ sound.
Linguistics aside, these words conceptually dance (shower? swim? sweat?) a paradoxical jig. This paradox, recently smiled, then winked at me, pointed her long thin finger my way then politely asked of me to join in her dance (shower? swim? sweat?).
If not for Korean bathhouses, I may never have returned to this wee peninsular nation (and to be pedantic, I am not actually on the peninsula this year, as I am living on Korea’s answer to Hawaii, the tropical island of Jeju Do). Bathhouses, Saunas, Jim Jil Bongs, call them what you like, to me, they are hot and steamy, egg smelling, salt rubbing, nude bits of heaven. I frequent the bathhouse near my apartment at least four times a week, cancel plans with mates to allow for my alone, naked, self-indulgence, and wake up hours before work just to make time for at least an hour of a sweating/frigid cold-water dipping combo. I even have my own Korean-style plastic basket complete with shampoo, mineral soap, loofa, salt, lotions, baby oil and the like. Women on their way to the sauna are easy to spot in Korea, they walk the streets, basket in hand, sandals on feet, often clad in velvet tracky-daks, spirits noticeably high.
All people are welcome to join in the gender-separated, naked bathhouse experience in Korea. Though most Koreans are of the opinion, and I reckon correctly so, that Wae-Guks (Westerners) are not so comfortable with their nakedness in rooms, baths, saunas, whirl-pools, stem-rooms, icy tubs, and showers full of same-gendered naked people. Beyond calming your ‘exposed’ nerves, the bathhouses encompass a variety of rules, that seem quite second nature to Koreans, but certainly become the learned affair for the Wae-guks.
Mind you, not all Jim Jil Bongs are the same, but essentially, when you arrive and pay your entry fee (anywhere from 3,000 won to 10,000 won), you are handed three very small towels and a key attached to a bit of plastic that can easily wrap around your wrist or ankle. Then enter through some glass doors, where you have to take off your shoes and put them in the very small box that matches your key number. Proceed past the shoe storage area into the locker rooms find the locker to match your key. Completely undress, leave one towel in your locker, that plastic key ensemble locks your locker, key around wrist, grab the remaining two towels and head to the saunas. Just as Wae-guks do for public pools, you must rinse off before entering the stem rooms or whirl-pools. While rinsing off, wet both towels, one towel goes atop your head, one is used to keep your bum from burning when sweating away in the stem rooms. After rinsing, your next step is completely up to you. Stem-rooms? Whirl-Pools? A scrub down by an Adgema (Adgema means Korean for older woman, scrub downs cost extra, but basically entail laying naked on a soft plastic bed where an (often saggy) Adgema dressed in lacey black underwear and bra uses various soaps, yogurts, milk, and lotions to scrub every last bit of dead skin off your entire body)? Room-Temperature Bath sit? Mineral Water soak? Icy Bath sit? The status quo of a sauna adventure materializes along the lines of somewhere really hot, then really cold, hot and stretch, cold and swim, hot, cold, until you’re too light headed to continue. Shower thoroughly, scrubbing away all your dead skin (if the Adgema think your scrub-down efforts poor, you may be lucky enough to receive help from them al la a full body scrub from a complete-stranger, customer!), brush your teeth, wash your hair, shake the water off. Return to your locker, dry off, use one or many of the various lotions/hair products left for customer use, dry your hair (again if an adgema thinks your hair drying ability sub-par you may get a free hair styling!), get dressed, grab your basket, unlock your shoes, head home/to work/to a date, beaming from a serious cleanse!
Needless to say, I quite enjoy my possibly-too-much time spent at these naked wonders. Because of my frequent visits I’ve accumulated some pretty amusing stories that quite frankly, have possibly escalated to something more abusive. And herein lies my point of paradox, exemplified through a naïve American twenty-something naked woman, in a Korean bathhouse.
In the beginning, it was merely hand gestures. Often I am the only Wae-guk customer and it is common for the older woman to tap me on the shoulder, ramble off Korean that is far too fast and full of too much vocabulary unknown to me, then make an hour glass shape with both their hands, and ‘ohhh and awww’ at my not-so-Korean womanly shape. I smile, not knowing what to say, usually I say Kam sah ham nida (Korean for Thank-you), but I don’t really feel entitled to thank these woman for pointing out that through years of procreating my race has developed wider hips than theirs. It is certainly not something I can base any sort of personal pride upon, still a smile, a small bow, and a thank-you.
Then came the touching. Tattooing is an illegal practice in Korea. I am not widely tattooed by any means, still a western person in a bathhouse is unusual enough, but a tattooed Wae-guk…My wee tattoo sits low on the right hand bit of my back. For nearly a decade that tattoo has exposed itself only to those who’ve spent more intimate time with me, and likewise has seen very little action. But since my obsessive bathhouse visits began, my wee eleFant tatt has been touched, rubbed, pinched and slapped more times than she can remember (eleFant memories, keke).
And then with the hair-pulling. Paying a bit extra to hire one of the adgemas to scrub your body down with various soaps and the like opened a whole new world of soft-skinned, womanhood to me. Before I came to Korea, I didn’t even know I could have soft skin, but after thirty minutes with an adgema equipped with loofa and lotion, demanding that I flip this way, arm here, leg this way, cucumber mask here, head scrubbing there, BAM soft skinned Arielle. (I must further comment, that the adgema who gave me my first rub down was LESS than impressed with how much dead skin she scrapped from me. Upon finishing, she collected a hand full of my dead skin and shoved it in my face, telling me to never let it get this bad again!). My last scrub-down ended quite amusingly (abusively?). The adgema hit twice on my belly, bap bap, indicating she was finished, then as I went to sit up, she pushed me back down, her forearm to my chest, onto the pink rubber cushioned bed, grabbed my pubic hair, smiled at me and said, “Ee Puta,” meaning very cute. One of the adgemas working in this particular sauna in Seoul could speak English, and she offered a translation. “Uhh, che meansu you bagina is puh-li-tty.” Right, actually, I understood that, but thanks translator! Again with the ‘What on earth do I say here?’ Thanks? Bow, sorta smile, and Kam sah ham nida.
And then with the ‘bad’ touch. Some of the bathhouses offer these incredibly hot, oven-like blissfully-sweating saunas. These are, undoubtedly, hands down, irrevocably my favorite. They’re so hot, it’s difficult even to breathe. The first time I entered one of these smoldering ovens complete with a rack of cooking eggs, I could manage to sit for a mere 50 seconds, at best. When I stumbled out the little door, gasping for breathe, I met three of the workers awaiting my swift defeat, laughing away at the Wae-guk who just couldn’t take the heat! As obvious as they were with their amusement for my inability to manage my overheating, so too were they congratulatory when I lasted the full five minutes after weeks of preparation. Clapping for me, cold towels in hand, ‘Cha dae so! Ah li ael! Cha dae so!’ (Good job Arielle, Good job!) Thumbs up, these adgema were proud of me! Needless to say, Koreans don’t expect too many Wae-guks in these really hot rooms, and as I’ve begun to frequent this particular sauna in Jeju, my sit-and-sweat-through-overheating ability is often the topic of conversation among the other woman sitting around me. I insist that I can speak no or very little Korean, still they insist on talking to me. And as is often the case for language barriers, when words fail, actions triumph. Recently, one of the Adgema grabbed her boob, and then grabbed mine, motioning as though she wanted to take mine and give me hers as an exchange. I smiled, surely I giggled as well. Then another woman behind her grabbed my belly fat, and kept saying “Anheyo” (No), meaning she thinks I have too much fat on my belly. To which another Adgema combated with “Mee guk” (American) then pointed at me. More Korean shouting, banter across the wee oven of a room, then heaps of laughter. One woman blew her cheeks out, rounded her arms and said, Mee guk again, surely calling Americans fat. She grabbed my belly once again and said ‘Kin chan a yo’ (It’s ok). Essentially, I’m assuming that I may have a fat belly by Korean standards, but most of my countrywomen are fat, so I need not be ashamed! This bathhouse day ended as a few of the Adgema scrubbed me down for free in the oven room with salt and a wooden spoon, complete with fat pulling here, and skin slapping there!
I certainly do not consider these experiences abusive by any means, though if not rationalizing the situations with this cultural difference, or that naivety of worldliness, possibly I’d turn a more critical eye. Nevertheless, the paradox is clear, one naked woman’s amuse(ment) is another naked woman’s abuse.
No comments:
Post a Comment