This high temperature is a matter of pride for Edokko—people born and raised in Edo or, today, in the shitamachi part of Tokyo. Edokko often enjoy baths much hotter than is common in the rest of the country and occasionally point out their “ethnicity” by referring to their fondness for extremely hot baths. In shitamachi, people the color of boiled lobsters can still be seen. A few minutes in water of this temperature is unbearable for most Japanese let alone foreigners These modern Edokko however sit stoically in the hot water for four or five minutes and comment upon how good the water feels. Sometimes they will exit the bath to cool down for a few minutes, and repeat the process several times.
The water in the bathhouse tubs is always overflowing. New water is continually heated and added. Whenever a person gets into the tub they displace a corresponding amount of water, thus helping to keep the water flowing.
Regional Variations of Asian Hot Tubs
Onsen, the natural mineral hot springs with which Japan is so richly endowed, represent bathing at its simplest and its most glorious The varieties of onsen are virtually infinite, ranging from isolated spring-fed pools in wooded thickets deep in the mountains—no people, no hotels, no entertainment no sign of human hand save a worn path trod by hunters, woodcutters, campers, and other bathers, to crowded cities given over entirely to the pleasures of hot-spring bathing hordes of boisterous vacationers with hundreds of hotels with huge bathing chambers, neon-lit casinos, and dark alleys offering entertainment of every sort and price.
As for the sento bathhouses, there are some regional differences. Chimneys in areas other than Kanto, for example, are as apt to be steel as reinforced concrete. Moreover, the concrete chimney may take a different form, closer to ones used in the manufacturing facilities of the region. In newer bathhouses with brick exteriors, the chimney may be faced with matching brick. Generally the Buddhist temple style of construction is not common outside of Tokyo. In eastern Japan, sento hot tubs are usually placed along the rear wall of the bathing area. The tub placement changes the further west you go. In Nagoya, for example, most of the bathhouses had cherubs along the center wall separating the men from the women. Farther west still, the tubs tend to be located in the center of the bathing area. Related to tub placement are the position and number of faucets. In the east there are rows of faucets from which most people get water for their washing, scrubbing, and rinsing; farther west, there are relatively fewer faucets and people dip water from the bathtub itself to rinse and wash. While customers in the east may chat with those sitting next to them, the low, mirrored wall that separates the rows makes it difficult to converse with larger groups of people until one enters the bathtub itself. The centrally located tubs of the western region, by contrast, facilitate conversation as people sit around the tub to wash and converse with people in the tub and all around it.
Stools are rare in western Japanese sento hot tubs where people tend to sit on the tiled floor to wash. Beforehand they pour water on the floor to clean it just as people elsewhere rinse the stools prior to use. It is customary to slosh the floor or stool with water scooped from the tub even if the person uses the faucets to get water for washing the body.
In eastern Japan, the bathing area has a high raised ceiling with windows - continuing the tradition started by Tsurukawa Monzaemon during early Meiji tames. Although this form is encountered throughout Japan, in the western part a lower ceiling, often arched, is more prevalent. This ceiling has cutlets for steam and hot air, too, but is distinctly different from those in the east. In many places in western Japan, the bandai-san’s (head bathhouse attendant) chair is not raised—in Tokyo, however, the bandai-san’s gaze often looks down on the entering customer. This difference affects the relationship between customer and attendant. In the west the bandai-san occupies a slightly more subservient position relative to the customer, and his speech and kinesic patterns (such as bowing) reflect this difference in status. In Tokyo and other eastern sento, the bandai-san is in a more authoritative position and can more easily give directions to customers.
There are other primary differences in western sento as well: one enters through the front doors before removing the shoes; the shoe box and raised floor are at the edge of the dressing area not at the entrance and many of the western bathhouses have a floor covered with straw like mats rather than a wood floor in the dressing area. Occasionally the mats are of natural materials such as reeds that would have been common in the past; more often they are made from plastics that imitate the natural materials. These mats are in keeping with regional preferences. Mats placed on bamboo floors keep the house cooler than the solid-wood flooring found in homes in colder areas of Japan. In fact, many of the architectural differences of bathhouses are probably correlated to regional building variations.
In the Osaka region, noted for its technological and industrial innovations, each facility has a number of different types of bath. One of the most prevalent is the denkiburo or “electric bath”, which has small electric currents pulsing through it. The electric shocks are thought to relieve stress somewhat like a massage. Sauna baths are offered in many of the establishments and are on the increase in Tokyo and other large cities. Other spas containing various additives are also common.
In Japan, as in Europe and America and everywhere else that Hydrotherapy is practiced, the reliability and the precise effect of certain waters on specific illnesses are matters of unending controversy. That bathing in natural mineral springs offers marvelously invigorating sensations is beyond argument. How it works, however, is not. Quacks charlatans, and incredible claims abound. But no matter, since Japanese hot-spring enthusiasts - like their Occidental counterparts at White Sulphur Springs in West Virginia, Bath in England, Baden-Baden in Germany, or Carlsbad in Czechoslovakia - are drawn to these resorts for recreational reasons as well. The treatments associated with certain springs in Japan have often evolved from folk tradition (“Saint so-and-so bathed here centuries ago and imparted his miraculous healing powers to the water”). The traditional practice among poor farmers, unable to afford luxurious inns, is to recover from their strenuous labors in simple hostels known as tojiba or “bath-cure places”, where for little money they can rent a room at a hot spring and are permitted to prepare their own food and tend to their own needs. The hot water flowing through these unpretentious bathing establishments is the same water which fills the great pools, hot house “jungle baths” or lavish pleasure domes in resort towns down the road or on the other side of the mountain.
Few places in volcanic Japan do not have a hot spring within easy reach. However a quick glance at a map of Japan reveals that some areas of the country are more richly endowed with hot springs than others. Hokkaido, Japan’s northernmost island, shows such a cluster around Shikaribetsu in its central region, another around Niseko on its western coast, and another at Noboribetsu on the populous southern coast. The most northern hot spring in the entire country is located at Wakkanai, separated by only a few miles of cold ocean water from Russian Sakhalin and the northern islands whose ownership Japan disputes with Russia. The central mountains of northern Honshu are dense with thermal springs. Some parts of Aomori, Twate, Akita, Miyagi, Yamagata, and Fukushima prefectures are overflowing with hot springs and spas. The same is true of the central regions of Honshu: Nagano Prefecture, roughly the size of Connecticut, has 140 hot-spring resorts; Niigata Prefecture, slightly smaller, has 93; and Gumma Prefecture, barely larger than the state of Delaware, has 63.
In premodern days before leisure had become the privilege of all classes and before international travel had come into the reach of most citizens, hot springs were the only universal luxury enjoyed by Japanese of all walks of life. The hot water from natural springs cost nothing and could be found almost everywhere. Even the poorest peasant could lay down his hoe at the end of a hard day’s work, strip off his ragged clothing, and bask like a king in the fresh hot water bubbling forth in a nearby riverbed or even in the middle of his field. Lowly foot soldiers could set aside their weapons after combat and soothe their aching muscles in a hot spring near the battlefield, and itinerant beggars, mendicant monks, and weary travelers on foot could do the same. Aristocrats, powerful warlords, and wealthy merchants might travel in comfort to distant hot-spring resorts, lured by attractions unavailable to them at home, but neither wealth nor leisure was a requirement for enjoying the salutary blessings of a long soak in refreshing hot water.