A relaxation ritual, the Japanese bath

If you have ever been to Japan, you’ve most likely encountered the three ways of enjoying a long, relaxing bath: onsen, public bath, or bathtub. I certainly have. Onsen means ‘hot spring’ in Japanese; it’s a bath where the water, heated by the earth due to the volcanic landscape, contains various minerals, temperatures, and smells believed to be healing and healthy for your body and mind. Visiting the onsen is an ancient practice, deeply rooted in Japanese culture. In a public bath, also called sento, the baths are filled with heated tap water and resemble a public spa outside of Japan. In both onsen and sento, men and women are usually separated, bathing suits are not allowed, and tattoos are often forbidden.

          A bathroom in one of my accommodations in Japan

In a private setting, most Japanese homes and facilities have small, deep bathtubs that allow you to be fully immersed in hot water while sitting down. These bathtubs have features that keep the water warm, supported by a flexible but tight lid (similar to a mat) rolled over the bathtub to maintain the heat. This is because a Japanese family will all share the same bathwater throughout the day, so it needs to stay warm. For hygienic reasons, everyone showers to clean their body before entering the bathtub. Another interesting feature is that the bathtub has its own room in Japanese homes, making it an actual bathroom containing the bathtub as well as a little station with a shower head, a mirror, a shelf for products, and a tiny stool where you can sit and clean yourself up, just like in onsens. Outside that room is a large sink, often extending from the bathroom to accommodate other toiletries. The toilet is in its own separate room.

The Daily Ritual
At my first business meeting in Tokyo, I was shown an ‘exhibition’ of an apartment in a nursing home. I was particularly surprised to see a bathtub there, as I hadn’t yet been introduced to the deep cultural significance of this ritual. My Japanese colleague explained that she herself takes a bath every night after work for an hour. “An hour?” I responded, surprised, wondering how she finds time for that, given that our work meeting had lasted until 7 p.m. that evening. She said, “It’s a lifestyle. It’s to relax my body after working the whole day.” That stayed with me for a long time - a wonderful ritual after a long day, though I can't imagine finding time for it in my own life back home. 

A small and deep bathtub in a Japanese bathroom

I have now been fortunate enough to live with my Japanese friends in their homes, experiencing this daily ritual firsthand. After dinner, they might say, “The bath is ready for you,” or “Do you want to use the bath first, or can I go now?” - assuming, of course, that we will all take a bath before bedtime (which I’ve also learned is typically later in Japan compared to Denmark; I haven’t figured out why yet). And by ‘bath,’ I mean a long session in the bathtub.

This daily ritual differs from taking a shower, which, in comparison, is a practical, hygienic practice that often doesn’t take that long. In Scandinavia, I believe, the shower is widely seen as a morning ritual to clean up after a night's sleep, wake you up, and prepare you for the day. For many, it’s accompanied by a cup of coffee. In contrast, in several Asian countries, the shower is seen as an evening ritual to clean yourself up after the day before heading to bed - in Japan, often accompanied by a long session in the bathtub.

Healthy Practices

When asked about their weekend, many Japanese friends mention visiting the onsen with their family, making it a frequent ritual. I have now, to some extent, immersed myself in this cultural practice, and I can understand why it’s considered a healthy ritual. As you dip your body into the warm water in calm and often beautiful settings - sometimes in an outdoor pool - you feel incredibly relaxed and refreshed afterward. Among other places, I’ve been fortunate to visit Hyotan Onsen in Beppu, Oita Prefecture, a 100-year-old onsen with several different pools, both indoor and outdoor. As a woman, you have the pleasure of visiting the original bath made of natural rock from the onsen’s foundation. Or Shirahone Onsen Open-air Bath in Nagano Prefecture, a small place with one outdoor pool, but with a stunning view of a waterfall that provides a peaceful sound for your relaxation in the warm water.

Entrance to a onsen, blue for men and red for women.

I believe this onsen practice is similar to the cultural ritual of ice baths followed by sauna sessions in a rotation, which is deeply rooted primarily in Finland and is becoming more popular in the rest of Scandinavia, including with myself. The term ‘winter swimming’ (vinterbadning in Danish) refers to jumping into a lake or the ocean year-round to experience the chill (sometimes freezing) thrill, which is said to boost the immune system and release a lot of neurotransmitters in the brain, making it a healthy activity that also relaxes the body and mind. Some people might even have an ice bath at home.

Writing this post also brings back memories of Istanbul, Turkey, where I went on a trip with my mother and experienced a Hammam, also known as a Turkish bath - a traditional ritual dedicated to the care of the body and mind. Hammam is a hot steam bath with a humidity of up to 100% and a relatively low temperature. I remember being in a gorgeous Middle Eastern building, where we were scrubbed by local women before enjoying the humidity and heat while sitting on sand-colored stones in a stunning dome.

What all these rituals seem to have in common is the use of water and temperature to release energy and engage in a healthy practice that creates a sense of purity and possibly even healing. Additionally, there is a social element to it. In a Scandinavian setting, you often go in small groups with friends or join a winter swimming community, whereas in Japan, it often seems to be a family affair. I’ve observed how generations of women meet in onsens, supporting each other and engaging in deep conversations. Both cultures make it a social experience where purity and a free body seem to be the key points. And as a final note, all of them involve nakedness, which perhaps brings us back to nature.

Through the Lens of Welfare

Since then, I have visited other facilities for elderly people as part of field trips focused on the use of care technologies in Japan. Staying on the topic of bath rituals, their bathrooms (which, as it turns out, are actual bath rooms) consist of two large, specialized bathtubs, offering residents a long bath twice a week. I must admit I haven’t seen enough Japanese nursing homes to know if this is the norm, but I do realize that it seems to be a prioritized ritual in care facilities too, highlighting it as a lifestyle.

In contrast, Danish care facilities often provide a regular shower, sometimes with a bath chair so the resident can sit down if needed, or a shower on a stretcher designed for showering. While the care staff in Denmark do their best to offer a comfortable experience, the primary goal is cleanliness rather than a long, relaxing ritual. I remember how, as a care worker for people with disabilities in Danish care homes, I would try to block the drain on a shower stretcher to keep the warm water pooled around the resident. It was my attempt to give them a sense of well-being during the shower, allowing them to experience a small moment of relaxation while lying in the warm water.

I’m still trying to understand how Japanese care facilities manage to find time for these long baths for their residents, especially since it’s widely debated in Denmark that many staff members and residents don’t even have enough time for a regular shower. This is something I intend to explore further during my time in Japan, as I’m curious about how they prioritize their time differently from us and whether there are other areas where they might be lacking time for care compared to Danish facilities.