How to prepare Gaijin

A trip to the public baths, or sento, offered Tom and I insight into the myriad ways gaijin, or foreigners, can be dressed and prepared for a lovely evening meal.

First, the gaijin locate their local sento and arrive confounded and fearful of committing a horrible cultural transgression.

Next, the gaijin select the appropriate bathing area based on gender and mimic the local Japanese as they undress and stow their clothes and valuables in a locker.

Then, the gaijin must wash themselves thoroughly while maintaining a keen eye on the locals to attempt to fit in as closely as possible. This is of course impossible, but a healthy bit of fear never harmed anyone.

Following a thorough cleanse and rinse comes the interesting part, your local sento (in our case Goko-yu in Kyoto) offers several methods for the preparation of the witless foreigner:

For the traditional, the standard boil can be achieved in either of three baths. Each bath will thoroughly cook your gaijin but they offer unique levels of effervescence ranging from none (complete with giant rock in the bottom of the bath which we still don't really know the purpose of) to medium to high (equivalent to 10 kilotons of Alka-Seltzer). The high effervescence bath comes with an old Japanese man that will further unnerve your gaijin, having already been in a state of low paranoia desperately attempting to avoid a disfiguring cultural transgression, by asking if they are Americans and subsequently making a series of excited statements in Japanese interspersed with the unmistakable sounds of anti-aircraft guns and gestures of what could only have been bombers.

For a slightly more interesting preparation, the standard boil can also be achieved in a fourth bath. Your gaijin may wonder why the water in this bath is an oddly familiar brown color, but usher them along as they will find out more soon enough. With one deep breath after entry the question becomes both enlightened and more confusing as the bitter wafts of soy sauce or miso distinguish themselves from the generally soapy sento air. Allow gaijin to soak for 30 minutes in the salty bath to achieve that unique flavor and smell that has put Japanese culinary on the map.

For the truly inspired the bath offers a fifth and truly unique bath. The still waters look inviting, paralleling the standard bubble-free bath sans giant rock, and at least one is sure to take an experimental dip. The naive experimentalist is sure to notice the tingling sensation that percolates his submerged extremities, but most rationalize that those pins and needles are just the result of spending so much time in high temperature waters. After a time, however, he may remember what he saw of a local patron in the same bath. The intermittent seizing in the local's neck muscles and the gaijin's loss of fine motor control will reveal the novel method behind this gastronomic delight: electrocution. Constant pulses of electricity are just enough to cause the muscles to twitch, increasing tenderness, and give your gaijin an interesting and delicious spark.

Whichever preparation you choose, your gaijin is sure to be clean, refreshing, and delightful.