Wednesday, February 09, 2011

Bath House

There's a bath house (yù chí) nearby J's parents' place that I go to time to time for a hot shower. When you walk in, there's an attendant behind a desk, whom you pay beforehand, and then he gives you a pad lock and key. The men's bath is to the left, and the women's is to the right, with a very small sitting area where there is a sofa and two chairs in between.
I find a locker in the men's changing area, disrobe, put on a pair of flip-flops, and take my shampoo and body soap into the shower room. Before the showers, there is a room with two large baths. I've only ever seen one or two people in there, although the baths are big enough to fit a half-dozen people each. Past the baths is the shower room where there are about 8 shower heads on the far wall.
To the right is an area for what is called "cuō huī", where patrons lie on a padded table/massage bed and an attendant rubs them down with a rough cloth to remove dead skin. Although J says the Chinese characters for cuo hui are almost never written, the characters (搓灰) literally mean "to roll dust". I've never heard of the practice in America, but I know it's also popular in Japan (aka suri), and I've heard in Korea too. In fact, I had this done at a spa in Japan once and found it thoroughly uncomfortable. J doesn't like having the attendant do it either, but she says lying on that table where everyone else does is even more unpleasant, so she brings her own rough-material "cuo hui glove" to the bath house and does it herself.  
I don't linger in the shower too long, and after about 10 minutes I'm usually back in the changing area. In the middle of the changing area is a large, square, padded platform where people sit to, say, put on their socks. I have no idea how often the platform is cleaned and it's usually wet in places where people have either sat or put down their basket of shampoo, etc. So I struggle to dry off and put on my clean clothes while standing, usually putting on my socks first so I can stand on my shoes. It's a bit of an awkward dance, but I have managed to do this with more and more efficiency each time. Before long, I'm dressed, coat and all, and squeaky clean.