Korean Bathhouses and Jjimjilbang: A Healing Culture That Melts Body and Mind

Translated from the Korean original.

In Korea a jjimjilbang is not just a bathing facility but a cultural experience in itself. I still cannot forget the day I first went to a Korean jjimjilbang. I paid the KRW 12,000 entrance fee, and once inside I was handed jjimjilbang clothes and a towel; the place had heated rooms at various temperatures, a sleeping room, a restaurant, and even a karaoke room. I remember being amazed and thinking, ‘All of this for this price?’ The jjimjilbang is a unique leisure culture rooted deep in the daily life of Koreans.

A neighborhood bathhouse is a humbler, more everyday space than a jjimjilbang. For an entrance fee of KRW 6,000-8,000 you can use the hot pools, the sauna, and the cold pool, and a body-scrub service costs an extra KRW 20,000-30,000 or so. The first time you experience a Korean ‘ttaemiri’ (body scrub), you are startled by the feeling of a layer of skin being peeled away, but when it is over you are startled again by how smooth your body has become, like a baby’s skin. This is a thrill you only understand by trying it.

There are things you simply have to try at a jjimjilbang. First, you have to make a yangmeori towel. You roll a towel up into the shape of a sheep’s horns and wear it on your head, and it is something like the symbol of the jjimjilbang. And sikhye (sweet rice punch) and boiled eggs are the essential jjimjilbang snacks. After sweating buckets in the elvan stone room, drinking a cold glass of sikhye and eating an egg with a light sprinkle of salt makes you think: so this is paradise.

A Korean jjimjilbang has many different kinds of sauna rooms, so you can experience a different benefit in each. The bulgama (kiln room) reaches a high 80-90 degrees Celsius and is effective for sweating it out, while the salt room is said to be good for the skin. The ice room’s job is to cool your body temperature quickly after you come out of a hot room. With charcoal rooms, jade rooms, and even loess clay rooms, the variety is so wide that simply making the rounds of each room lets several hours slip by.

The jjimjilbang is also a uniquely Korean social space. It gets used for all kinds of purposes: a place to chat with friends all night, a date spot, a family outing, even somewhere to nurse a hangover the day after drinking. In particular, sleeping at a jjimjilbang after playing late and missing the last train is something of a rite of passage for Koreans in their twenties. Falling asleep in the sleeping room to a grand chorus of snoring is a memory in its own way too.

Recently, premium jjimjilbang and spas have been gaining popularity. Large spa complexes such as Spa Valley in Yongin, Termeden in Icheon, and Spa Land in Busan charge around KRW 30,000-50,000 for admission, but they have the scale and the facilities to keep you entertained all day. Some even have open-air hot springs, infinity pools, and upscale restaurants, which makes them popular as workcation spots as well. There may be no better way to refresh than spending a weekend day at a hot spring spa near you.

Korea’s bathing culture goes beyond the act of washing your body; it is time that heals the mind as well. For that moment when you sink into warm water, sweat it out, and drink cold sikhye, you can set down every worry. To anyone worn out by a busy routine, I sincerely recommend a visit to a neighborhood bathhouse or a jjimjilbang. This small luxury, which you can enjoy for KRW 10,000, will give you the strength to get through the week.