I hit another milestone in my ongoing struggle with the hot water heater in my apartment today. Have I mentioned? The story goes that sometime, about 8 weeks ago, the hot water heater decided to bang, moan, whine like a dying cow, and flick off and on depending on the severity of its condition on any given day. Some days the water is fine, some days it is ice cold, some days is oscillates. Most days the water will become lukewarm only if you run the cold water in the sink while you run the shower at it's hottest. Two days ago, however, it went ice cold.

Now, after mentioning the problem with the water to the director of my school three times before our Christmas break, and on a weekly basis since Toby left, I have yet to have the problem fixed. I have a fix for it, of course, as that's the Korean way. My director has twice come to my apartment to "repair" the problem. The first time he gave me a complex set of instructions to "reactivate" the heater.

1. Go out into the freezing cold covered rear porch where the beast lives and kills all manner of living creatures from the sounds of it.
2. Turn off the gas that powers the heater.
3. Open the water valve until pressure and a few drops of water are released.
4. Close the valve.
5. Turn on the gas.
6. Come back inside (after retrieving Miss Puddles from her favourite play place).
7. Switch the hot water controls in my room off and on 3 times.
8. Turn on the hot water.

Since I've been provided with this "solution", I've had to reactivate the heater 4 times. Each time, it provides hot water for one shower, lukewarm water for one shower, and ice cold water for everything after. Annoying, but at least it's not boiling water to pour over myself in a rustic attempt at bathing with no bathtub.

Two days ago, however, the situation changed for the worse. Way worse. Now, when I turn on the hot water taps on the bathroom or switch the control to the left in the kitchen, no water at all comes out. Perhaps something decided to freeze in one of the pipes during one of the heater's "off" periods. All I know is that doing the trick gets me no hot water, and no water from two taps. At least it got the room heating turned back on today, as Seoul is going through it's second cold snap of the year.

Yesterday I braved the arctic chill of the unheated bathroom with my electric kettle, two plastic basins, and a cup. Fifteen minutes and 5 boilings later, I emerged with my hair unwashed, but relatively warm and arguably clean. Today, I needed to wash my hair so off to the bath-house I went. There is a sauna near my apartment called Daelim Sauna. I've only been there once before, when Toby and I were unable to get the gas to work in our apartment, but the swimming pool I used to go to had a bath-house with it, so I'm familiar with the routine.I purposefully go when it won't be too crowded. Foreigners are still a rarity in many peoples' daily lives in Korea, and well, a very pale, naked red-head can be cause for some stares. That in combination with the tattoo on my back (tattoos are illegal to get in Korea) tend to turn a relaxing hour at the "spa" into a complete loss of whatever modesty and dignity one retains whilst bathing naked with strangers. Today, there was no option of going at an "off" time, as we are in the midst of the Lunar New Year holiday, and my entire neighborhood seemed to be at the sauna.

For the unitiated, here is the run down of the Korean sauna. You pay at the main counter outside, where you receive a towel. There is a men's side, and a women's side. You'll have to check with Toby about the setup of the guys' side, but on the women's, you walk into an area filled with lockers. A nice lady will indicate that you should put your shoes in one of them, then she'll give you a key. You take the key to a counter where you can buy face washes, shampoos, oils, and exfoliating cloths, and you exchange your shoe key for your locker key. Then, you go to your locker, declothe, and take your washing apparatuses and your towel out into the centre of a room lined with mirrors and naked ladies. Through another set of steamy glass doors, you'll find the bathing room.

Depending on the size and sophistication of the bath house, the main room will contain anywhere from 3 to 12 different pools and hot tubs. I don't know how cold the colds ones are, or how hot the hottest one is, but rest assured there is a wide range of temperatures. Along one wall of this particular bath house, there are several types of saunas, most equipped with TV's to watch while you sweat your sicknesses out. Along the side and back walls are the showers, and the reason I went in today.

To my absolute dismay, the place was packed. Luckily, I didn't see a single student among the 20 or so kids running around. All of the showers were taken, so there was nothing to do but place my washing tools inside a small plastic basin, nudge my bottom onto a stone ledge along the hottest tub, and wait for an opportunity to make a break for a shower. Waiting time is occupied with exfoliation.

The most prevalent activity at the bath house is (for once among Korean ladies not talking!!!!) exfoliating. Every person in the room, from the oldest woman to the smallest girl, has a green or yellow cloth on her hand. These cloths are circulated around every inch of every body in there. That's what a "spa" day is in Korea. Scrubbing, washing, scrubbing, rubbing, exfoliating every part of yourself. Friends will go together, sitting naked in the saunas and tubs talking, and then take turns scrubbing one another's backs. If a lady is there alone, the woman at the shower next to her will offer to scrub her back for her. There are no cares that you are naked in front of either your friends, your mother, or strangers. It has become a ritual of health and relaxation among the people here. Mind you, no one has ever offered to scrub my back...

I managed to weasel my way into a shower after waiting/exfoliating for only about 5 minutes. Normally, I would have gone through a relaxing (if not properly patterned) series of hot tub visits, but my western sensitivities about nudity stood in the way today. I mean, I think most of us occasionally have exhibitionist tendencies, but there were just too many people for me.

Wandering back through the main part of the locker room, I marveled at the beautiful women lounging around on wooden benches in various stages of undress. Many were old, many were young... they sat in quiet reflection. There was one thing that seemed to bring them all together, one thing they all (except for the stark naked ones) had in common. Granny panties. It never ceases to amaze me. Even the teenagers and small girls, the 25 year olds. Yards of fabric, usually some white satiny concotion. Such small ladies, such big underwear. I'll never understand it.