Depending on the size of the sento, the bathing area may be fairly small, only large enough to accommodate 10 or 12 customers at a time, or it could be a sprawling atrium-like space with numerous baths, saunas and steam rooms.

The next big rule of visiting a sento is NO SOAP IN THE BATH. Today, this most basic of Japanese bathing practices is quite well known, but if this is new to you, commit it to memory. Soaping, scrubbing and rinsing is always done outside of the bath and you will find spigots and small plastic stools and buckets for this purpose. Going into a sento bath (or any other Japanese bath or hot spring) with soap on your body is unthinkable and would be a major faux pas. Baths are for soaking and relaxing, so wash and rinse off well outside and then enjoy the baths.

Now that you are clean and ready to soak, step over to the ofuro (bath) but before you immerse yourself in the deep tubs, you may want to test the water with your hand to find out exactly what type of bath you are about to enter. Typically, sento baths will be hot (around 107 F/42C), very hot (around 118 F/48C) and cold (around 64 F/18C).

There may also be several variations of Jacuzzi baths, baths colored and seasoned with healthful natural herbs and some sento also feature what is known in Japanese as denkiburo, literally “electric bath.” This is exactly what it sounds like — a bath with an electric charge running through it. The current is low and not harmful (older patrons often enjoy the sensation of electricity stimulating their bodies), but unless you too enjoy “electric bathing,” touch the water with your hand before plunging in.

Another basic rule to follow when visiting sento (also known as onsen) is keeping all towels out of the baths. You may actually see some Japanese breaking this common rule, but most ofuroya (another name for bath houses) prefer towels are kept out of the baths for the purposes of hygiene. Generally, nothing should go into the bath except you and your smile.

A red Japanese "yu" engraved in a roadside granite pillar literally means "hot water" and indicates the presence of a sento on a side street in a trendy shopping district of Osaka.

Remember, visiting a sento is not only to wash and refresh oneself, but to simply relax and, for regular customers, to socialize. As you enjoy the baths and atmosphere of a sento, you may notice regular customers, often older Japanese who may have been visiting that particular establishment every day for much of their life. And while the actual number of sento in Japan has been declining since around 1970, they still play an important role in the social life of many Japanese.

As a gaijin (foreigner) in a sento, you will naturally stand out, but generally this is not a problem and you will probably be either welcomed with a shy smile or slight bow, or perhaps given no more attention than any other stranger would receive. Still, some foreigners complain about being starred at in sento, which could be a case of curiosity on the part of the Japanese or oversensitivity on the part of the foreigner, or maybe a little of both.

“When in Tokyo, do as the Tokyoites” is a simple guideline and will probably serve you well in an unfamiliar setting such as a sento. On a darker note, there have been well-documented cases of public bath houses in Hokkaido where foreigners were apparently not doing as the locals, and were, in fact, causing quite an uproar to the extent that some bath houses and other businesses took the extraordinary step of refusing entry to foreigners or those who looked foreign.

This has become an ongoing issue which has been taken up by local human rights activists whose efforts to stop the banning of certain people from Japanese bath houses and hot springs can be read about here. By being respectful and mindful of Japanese bathing customs, you will help breakdown unhelpful stereotypes while ensuring a pleasant and memorable experience for you and those who follow.

One thing that many bathing establishments do not allow is the entry of persons with visible tattoos. This is intended to keep out members of the yakuza (Japanese organized crime), but may very well be extended even to persons who have no apparent ties to criminal activity. If you have a mural of inky snakes and dragons slithering down your arms and legs, or even a tiny non-threatening butterfly above your belt line, you could potentially be prohibited from entering a sento.

Having said that, this writer has never heard of any foreigner being refused entry because of a tattoo. In fact, one sento I frequented for almost a decade not only didn’t enforce the ‘no tattoo’ rule, the sento was frequented by obvious yakuza. Such a bath house is the ideal place to admire the incredibly intricate tattoo work that covers the shoulders, biceps, chest, back, buttocks and upper legs of many yakuza.

If you are fortunate enough to bathe with the yakuza, you will be amazed at the beauty and detail of their body art, though discreet viewing is recommended.

Gangsters being the exception, you are more likely to find yourself scrubbing beside a “salaryman” (this is what Japanese call businessmen), a neighborhood merchant or the little old man (or woman) who, over a lifetime of frequenting sento, has polished their bathing rituals to a fine art.

It is here, in the sento, where you, as a visiting foreigner, may come closest to feeling like you are part of Japan. In the sento, all non-essentials are literally stripped away. In a country where form, method and decorum are so indispensable, the sento is the one place where everything is reduced to its most basic element: the soap removes the dirt, the steam cleanses the mind, the water calms the body and the light, pouring in mid-day from an overhead window, illuminates the scene of humans together, washing off the layers of fatigue and filth that cling to us as we walk through the clutter of the city.

If You Go

Japan National Tourist Organization
www.jnto.go.jp