Being There : Cultural Immersion

I close my eyes and listen to the sounds of water: the splash of pools, the hiss of rising steam and the patter of showers. Rising above the ambient sounds is the chatter of Korean.

Opening my eyes, I find myself in the company of some 25 naked women. For many of the women at the Olympic Healht Club in Koreatown, this is part of a weekly beauty regimen, a refuge for steaming and soaking and pampering. For me and the handful of other non-Koreans, it is that and more.

I am in one of the pools--there are three; hot, warm, cold--watching as a dozen women sit on plastic stools at a pink tiled through filled with running water. They scrub with loofahs and rinse with small pails of water. Mothers, daughters, grandmothers, their bodies reflect varying states of gravity, yet all have beautiful skin.

In a corner of the room, for masseuses are at work. I’m waiting for my turn, but since there are no appointments and I don’t speak Korean, I’m not sure when that will be. No problem: I happily soak under the skylights. Eventually, a masseuse named Lee, wearing matching plum bra and underwear, motions for me to follow her. Lee sloshes a bucket of warm water on me and starts a 30-minute body scrub, removing layers of old skin with her loofah-like mittens and liquid soap. She follows that with a quick message and a shampoo. Next to me, a woman is getting a massage that included a mask of pulpy cucumber.

My attempts at conversation are politely ignored. The masseuses’ English is limited to a few words: turn over, shower, face (accompanied by a bowl of milk to splash on the face).

When Lee is done, I rise and head for the locker room, where women sip hot tea and nibble on apples and oranges. I dress, ready once again for Los Angeles.