“Kokujin!” It was the first word I heard when I entered the hot spring.
Kokujin!” Black person!
Hours before, I’d told my friend that I didn’t want to go. I was already self-conscious fully dressed so the thought of going to a Japanese onsen to bathe stark naked with complete strangers was frightening. She’d dismissed my trepidation.
“If you want to live here,” She’d said, “you have to get used to the stares. The hot spring is designed to help you relax. You’re going to love it.”
She was wrong. Kokujin’ stopped me in my tracks. I turned to face a woman. Her wispy silver hair and veiny age-spotted skin suggested that she was well over sixty. Though she was petite and a lot smaller than I was, I felt myself shrink under her gaze as she stared at my naked body.
“Kyonyu.” She said this as she reached out and grabbed my right breast.
“Kyonyu.” Big breasts.
I yelped and leapt back, almost tripping over a toddler who was darting headlong into the water. My scream stopped her. She looked up, saw who’d made the sound, and her little face scrunched up in confusion as she tried to make sense of the black body in front of her. Deciding this was way too foreign for her young mind to comprehend, she let out an even louder scream as she backed away and hightailed it back to her mother. Now, all eyes stared in my direction. Instinctively, my right hand went to cover my vagina and I tried to cover my breasts with the left. My eyes darted frantically around the room. The old woman with no concern to what her violation of my body caused had disappeared. She’d blended into the sea of Japanese women and my friend was nowhere to be found. I stood there. My worst fears realized. A fat stomach exposed without Spanx to suck in cellulite, pubic hair; wild and un-coiffed, bra-less chest to hide less than perky breasts. I was left in a room naked with strangers. Strangers who stared at my naked body the way everyone stared at me my first year in Japan. Even covered, my body came with bigger breasts that caused older women to look and frown in disapproval if I showed cleavage, while younger women pulled their boyfriends or husbands out of my way. My backside, which didn’t stand out in Jamaica among buxom, big-bottomed women, was suddenly seen as ‘too much’ and I dared not wear shorts without feeling as though I was committing a sin. I began questioning why my body was scrutinized when young Japanese women wore short skirts, low cut blouses, booty shorts, and high splits that left nothing to the imagination.
“Ignore them,” my girlfriend said. “It’s not your fault they’re flat-chested and have no butt.”
I couldn’t ignore them. I found myself feeling ashamed of my body, and I slowly morphed into a woman who wore tighter bras to corset my breasts and large ill-fitting clothes to hide the rest. Just as I’d shrunk under the gaze of the old woman who stared at me in the onsen, I began shrinking. Shrinking my body. Shrinking my personality. Shrinking my entire essence to fit into a culture of soft-spoken, petite women. Then one day I entered a train and stood among a group of giggling girls wearing midriff blouses, high-rise boots and low-cut jeans. Their loud laughter, in a country of contained emotions, was clear indication that they’d been drinking. I looked around. No one noticed them — no one frowned — they weren’t even given a second glance. I couldn’t help feeling angry. They got to move around uninhibited, while I bandaged my body. Bondaged it and walked around uncomfortable to make them comfortable. As I watched them laugh loud and stand proud and unashamed, I made my decision. I decided to be just as uninhibited. And I was. With earphones in my ear, or a book in my hand, I ignored microaggressions. This was the body in which I lived, and I was going to live in it comfortably. I was here. My black body was here. And like all children of the universe, I belonged.
***
What’s an onsen?
An onsen is a natural hot spring bath. As a volcanically active country, Japan has thousands of onsens scattered throughout all prefectures and is considered one of the hot spring capital of the world.
Japanese hot spring rules
If you’re ever in Japan, here are some quick tips to keep in mind when using an onsen (hot spring):
- Disrobe completely. Clothing (not even a bathing suit) is allowed. So, if the thought of bathing naked with strangers make you uncomfortable, an onsen may not be fun for you.
- Shower before going in the water. Wash with soap and rinse thoroughly.
- Do not jump in. Do not swim. Do not talk in a loud voice.
- No tattoos. Tattoos are taboo in Japan as they’re associated with organized crime. So, even if it is blatantly clear that you are not involved in the doings of the underworld, once you have a tattoo, it’s a no-go.
- Make sure you are sober. Drunks are not allowed.
This is a beautifully written piece! As a Jamaican who lived in Japan for a couple of years, I can fully identify with those awkward moments getting completely naked at an Onsen. As much as I enjoyed the therapeutic and soothing properties of the hot springs I never ever did get used to that bare exposure, and had to psyche myself up every time! As a big bodied black woman, I can also identify with the stares and comments. I endured that too, particularly annoying when coming from my male high school students. I did not attempt to shrink my personality or my body to adapt, but I can fully relate to why you would have felt the need to do so. It is not only the Japanese who don’t want to be ‘the nail that sticks out’. So glad that you eventually made peace with your body and released the shame.
Thanks again for a great blog. I will be subscribing to read more!
Janet C
Awww. Bless you sis. Thank you for reading and thank you for subscribing. I appreciate you.
Bree
Keep posting so others can live vicariously through you!!! Excellent read.
Will do Aliechia.