Reflection: Nudity and Sexuality in Japan

Title: Nudity and Sexuality in Japan (June, 2019)

A short reflection piece written in my 7 weeks stay in Japan!

Typically, a quick impression of Japanese people that comes to my mind is their humble, modest and conservative nature. Never boisterous, never proud. Always conscious of how they present themselves in the public setting. However, this image I had was slightly distorted in my first ever experience to the Onsen.

The journey to being stark naked in the Onsen was a long one. On our field trip to Nikko, we were informed that the hotel was known for its onsen bathhouses for its guests. Many, although slightly weary, were generally excited to try it. I was however mortified at the very prospect of parading around in my birthday suit. I made up my mind long ago that if I ever were to go to an onsen, I absolutely needed to be alone. Not even being around family would waver my stance.

It was not the hours of convincing and mild coercive threats received from my peers that changed my mind. Instead, what finally made me give in was the onsen appetizer I experienced at this Ashiya (public foot baths) near the Kinugawaonsen station. Our casual venture beyond the hotel premises led us to this foot bath not too far off. Shocked to find that it was free and open to the public, we immediately helped ourselves to a seat and dipped out feet into the lukewarm water. A loud sigh of relief accompanies it, as if all the troubles in the world melted away. I knew in that moment that I wanted – no, needed – the full-body experience. I made eye-contact with a friend who was previously equally resistant on trying the onsen. We shared a wistful look that conveyed the same thought; “Guess we have no other choice”.

After much procrastination of doing every other possible thing we could do in the hotel, it was finally time to face my fear. I had heard that we could bring a towel into the hot bath. However, I was told that it was so small it essentially covered nothing. Perhaps because it was never meant to be a tool for modesty, but to wrap around your head to keep your hair dry.

That didn’t stop us gaijins from trying though. In the changing room preluding to the actual onsen, we took the bigger towel not meant to be brought into the onsen. However, we were stopped by one of the staff who redirected us to the smaller towel. Abashedly, we obliged and were forced to reveal naked bodies to one another, with the small towel being of no help whatsoever.

The dash from the changing room to the onsen was humiliating. The more we tried to hide, the more pathetic it felt, especially when many other unfazed locals around us were leisurely strolling past us, stark naked and unashamedly showcasing their assets. Eventually, I got tired of keeping up the covering act and forced myself to maintain normal conversations with my friends. By the end of our baths, we too found ourselves casually strolling back to the changing room – as did the locals – not in any desperation to reunite with our clothes. Something about being stripped to absolutely nothing made for very intimate conversations. Moreover, the onsen environment really helped to facilitate deeper conversations, despite only having recently befriended the girls with me.

On hindsight, I am glad that the towel warden had stopped us from covering ourselves up with the big towels. If we had insisted on our own gaijin ways, we would never have had the true Japanese Onsen experience – in which expression of nudity was part of the package. 

By putting ourselves outside of our comfort zones, we maximized our experience here in Japan. The towel warden in that moment became the cultural enforcer, that taught us the value of “when in Rome, do as Romans do”. Participating in the process – entirely as it was meant to be – rather than bringing in our own cultural assumptions, beliefs of right and wrongs, is the first step to understanding any kind of society and group. Perhaps this is the very value of ethnography.

Another aspect I have heavily encountered in Japanese society is the excessive exposure to sexuality. Walking past a middle-aged man browsing a wide-opened A4-sized hentai manga big enough for the blind to see in the middle of the bustling Shibuya train platform was something I didn't see every day. Or, ever. Also, my hunt for generic otaku merchandise at Akihabara led me similar buildings with floors 5-7 reserved exclusively for mature audiences. Of course, in the name of science, I had to explore every nook and cranny on every floor. It was fascinating how overt pornographic materials were displayed. I even witnessed a museum-like room, where drawn naked girls were very professionally framed up.

This made me very curious as to the way sexuality and nudity operate in Japan. Most of the world had experienced western colonization for a sustained period of time - and with it, had received western-influenced religious values – enough for them to take some root in the fabric of moral society. Western religions often discourage sexuality. However, these western values never had enough traction to make a significant impact on moral society in Japan, that was and still is largely organized by Shinto and Buddhist principles. Shinto religion, on the other hand, is more open-minded to concepts of sexuality that focuses more on the importance of the divine power of deities (kami) rather than the moral actions of the individual. Even as Buddhism and Shintoism blend into Japanese beliefs, they often do not condemn most forms of sexuality.

The Japanese, therefore, abide by a different set of moral codes; where sexuality and nudity are not seen as inherently shameful. Of course, that does not mean that all Japanese people fully embrace it. Instead, I conceive that nudity and sexuality are viewed in the pragmatic lens as socially disruptive, less so viewed in the moral lens as inherently wrong.