An important part of Korean culture is the so-called Jjimjilbang. A Jjimjilbang is a public bathhouse consisting of traditional saunas and pools. The latter are not used to cleanse the body; this should be done thoroughly before entering the thermal pool. Therefore, it is unsurprising that some establishments even allow customers to sleep there overnight. When visiting a traditional Korean bathhouse, certain procedures are expected, and strict rules must be followed. Grey clouds, cold wind, pouring rain?
I had already read a few things before my trip, but my very first visit still felt like a test of courage. Standing there like a clueless idiot and not understanding anything is embarrassing. Yet, being a butt-naked, clueless idiot is even more humiliating. As I had left my comfort zone several times during my trip to Korea, I dropped my pants β literally β and went head over heels for yet another adventure.
My initiation visit to a Mogyoktang was in Andong. I entered hesitantly. Sitting behind a dark reception desk was a young man, practically still a teenager. When he saw me, he hectically gesticulated. Oh, I should have taken my shoes off already as I entered the building, got it! However, what an embarrassing start.
Quite a bargain. First, I had to lock my shoes in a small box. In exchange for the shoe locker key, the teenager handed me a key to a locker. The changing room, or better undressing room, that I now entered had absolutely nothing in common with the glitz and glamour.
A grumpy-looking old woman sat on a bench and watched TV. There were long rows of simple lockers. I looked for number 82, took off my clothes, and locked them in. The lady watching TV rolled her eyes dismissively and pointed wordlessly at a large glass door without even looking at me. I hesitantly opened the fogged door and peeked inside. Ah, so there was no separate shower area. Showering and soaking and sweating all took place in one single room. Got it. There were about six shower heads in the wall to the right of the glass door.
