I went on a trip to the Seorak mountains with a group of my coworkers a few weeks ago. The first day there, we did a three hour hike up to Ulsan Bawi rock. The first two-thirds were great but the last leg was an enormous set of steep, metal stairs that zig-zagged up the face of the mountain with frighteningly large gaps between each step. Fast forward five flights up: I'm crouched over the railing, regretting every day I've ever skipped a work-out in my life and swearing off hiking as a stupid activity - I mean really? All of this to see some rock and a view you can enjoy better with a glass of wine and a baggie of pretzels from an airplane window? I did eventually make it to the top...and after my lungs re-expanded I was able to sit and enjoy squinting through the pollution haze out to the Pacific Ocean. Suffice to say, by the time our group made it (painstakingly) back down the mountain, we were all very sore and in need of a little R&R.
Earlier in the day our guide recommended the “hot springs” at the top of the hill near our guest house. The seven of us were sharing a single bedroom with a single bathroom and a single shower so we eagerly went on a hunt for these hot springs once we arrived, hoping to find some showers as well. I don’t know about you, but when I think about “hot springs” I picture bubbly, outdoor stone baths full of people soaking in their bathing suits. It turns out that the promised hot spring was actually your regular, old Korean jimjibang. A quick definition for you: a jimjibang is a uniquely Korean spa where, for a small fee, you can chill out in a bunch of different baths and saunas. Everyone is segregated by gender because, you guessed it, being completely nude is a requirement. Me and my fellow female coworkers were about to get reaaaall close. Nothing like seeing each other’s lady bits to form a lifelong bond. We bid adieu to our male compatriots, and strode into the woman’s locker room to strip down and stash all of our clothing. We grabbed one of the tiny towels they give you and headed into the main spa. None of us were really sure what to do with the towels or where to put them so naturally, we draped them over our crotches all casual-like to give the appearance that we didn’t care that much. The four of us women shuffled into the huge, balmy room, tried not to stare at each other’s tits, and immediately split for the nearest shower. Korean women have a very specific washing ritual before they hop into any of the baths which requires roughly scrubbing off your first layer of skin so none of your personal nasties get to anyone else. Generally, I’m more of a casual scrubber but I did my best to mimic the women around me. The first bath I checked out was a warm, green tea bath. The color was a little green but, other than that, there wasn’t much to indicate that there was actually any tea ingredients in it. Regardless, it was lovely, and after I had nicely submerged (hidden) my body, I started to relax and really enjoy it. Trying not to be creepy about it, I started to look around at the other people. I mean, how often do you get to compare your body to one that doesn’t belong to a celebrity or model? I read an article awhile back about how women in the west have more painful childbirth because they are extremely self-conscious of their vaginas. We tense up from fear and embarrassment which makes labor much more difficult. I couldn’t help but think about this as I looked around at the Korean women who had grown up going to jimjibangs. Maybe to them, the naked female body is not so strange and forbidden? I had a discussion recently with a friend about when we first realized that our “private parts” were something shameful that was meant to be hidden. We couldn’t exactly pinpoint a time but whenever it was, it is something that has stuck with us. This has major repercussions as you grow up and your body matures, especially for girls and young women. From self-image and self worth to how you feel about sex and sexuality, it’s a real challenge to overcome the idea that exposing your body is wrong. I wondered how things would be different if I had grown up going to a jimjibang or an American cultural equivalent. It sounds strange, but there was something so empowering and therapeutic about hanging out with a bunch of naked strangers. For me, whenever I’m in a bathing suit or even just form fitting clothing, i’m constantly sucking my tummy in or pulling at my shirt hem so my little love handles don’t peek out over my waistband. In the jimjibang, in a place free from the male gaze and female-to-female competition, everyone can just let their belly bulge out. Sweating off the mountain grime in that green tea pool, I found that I really liked the feeling of not hiding or feeling ashamed of my body. When it was time to switch to the next bath I rose from the water and didn’t try to hide anything with my towel. Instead, I strolled confidently to the sauna, smiling at my fellow women folk and thinking “Hello sister, your body is beautiful, my body is beautiful, we are all beautiful.” Confidence brimming, I plunged into the next bath without a care in the world. Sadly, it turned out to be an ice cold bath and I emerged from the water screaming loudly and breaking the serene silence. Oh well, just like a naked body, you can’t have beautiful without a little awkward too, right?
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