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Updated
January 2006
TOGO, 2001
I studied abroad in
Ghana
in 2001. My friends and I decided to take a weekend bus trip to
Togo
one Friday. Unfortunately, I'd just come down with a case of stomach
ailment. By the time we
arrived at the bus station, I was in a dire state. I asked the bus ticket
master, market women, tourists, anyone who was around where the toilets
were. The only thing within walking distance was the urinal at the bus
station. Urinals in
Ghana
are for peeing only. 'Toilets' are what you use to do anything else.
I could no longer contain myself, so I handed the urinal
attendant 5 cedis for use of his facilities, walked into the cement
structure (essentially a topless cement box with a raised area for
standing. You pee into a lowered area that looks like a miniature man-made
river), and found a secluded corner.
I tried to do my business as quietly as possible.
Unfortunately, my stomach ailment was rather more vocal than I would have
liked. A Ghanaian market woman walked into the urinal, heard me, and
immediately screamed at the top of her lungs "Obruni ko poo-poo in da
urinal!" (White woman is pooping in the urinal).
Three men, including the urinal attendant, the man in
rubber boots who was in charge of hosing the urinal down, and the bus
station attendant poked their heads around the corner to watch along with
the market woman.
I was out of control of myself at this point. I had to wait an
excruciating 40 seconds before I was able to pull my pants back up. My
captive audience started berating me for what I had done. Embarrassed
beyond belief, all I could think to do was give them all the coins in my
bag, apologize profusely, and run out with my head slung low. Of all the
time I spent in
Ghana
, that wicked incident is one of the clearest in my mind.
Train from
New Delhi
to
Bombay
Betsy Devine's Law of International Number One and Two: You
don't know a country until you have 1) used its public restrooms and 2)
ridden mass transit. One train
trip from
New Delhi
to
Bombay
brought me such enlightenment for
India
. Each sleeping car had a toilet at either end--one Western-style toilet,
the other Indian-style for those who prefer to squat. I used the
Western-style and enjoyed its warning sign, in both English and Hindi:
"This is our Western-style toilet--don't stand on the seat.”
All over
As a dedicated world traveler while a
former exchange student to the University of Nairobi, Kenya, a Peace Corps
volunteer in Mali, West Africa, and a naval officer with several years
traveling in the Asia Pacific region I have had the opportunity to
"compare" toilets, and customs, and the lack thereof in many
sophisticated and remote locations around the world during the last 30
plus years. Third World issues are of topical note especially with scenic
photos from
Afghanistan
and
Iraq
in daily headlines.
My mud hut on the Bandiagara Plateau in
Sahelian Mali was my home for 2 plus years with no running, electricity,
nor indoor plumbing. The rocky
area is not conducive for pit latrines, so my Dogon friends built a mudded
mound looking somewhat like a 2 foot high bee hive with a hole in the top
at the side of my hut surrounded by the communal rock wall of the family
compound. I had a small flat
rock where I took bucket baths and rested my small compact mirror for
shaving in a grooved rock.
Third world squatting techniques were
mastered by necessity, my legs would be challenged by the stretching
techniques required, but the interesting part was with the two foot
height, I actually could see over the 5 foot stone wall, and yes, people,
if interested, could see me in my full vertical form while dropping trou
to assume the position.
The Muslim tradition of cleansing with
water from a plastic teapot and soap with the left hand was mastered in
Wajir
,
Kenya
in student years and although right handed, I still am accustomed to using
my left hand even with European technology. Desert issues "sans
brousse" was another learned technique as there are no bushes to go
behind. When traveling with
mixed gender groups, women would walk a discreet distant to one side of
the caravan and men to the other side and while maintaining your back to
the non-watching audience squat and do what comes natural. Always
interesting in conservative Islamic countries where modesty is of some
concern, even though some tribal dress is all but modest!
In Wolei, a remote island in present day
Federated States of Micronesia, formerly the Trust Territory of Pacific
Islands was perhaps the most beautiful "benjo", vernacular
Japanese for toilet was a cabin like structure on a rickety homemade pier
extending into a Pacific lagoon where any eliminated waste became fish
food while one enjoyed a tranquil Pacific breeze while squatting on a
precarious board-like arrangement and contemplating Pacific pleasantries,
weather permitting. Japanese and Korean bathhouses were always wonderful
as well and one does not get too emotionally embarrassed when practicing
so human an activity. What
memories, and what an interesting website.
Enjoy!
China,
2005
Just came back from
China
. Thought I would be accustomed to the bathroom conditions there as I was
born and raised there over 20 years. Well, I was wrong, especially, when I
brought my kids with me there.
We took train from
Zhengzhou
to Xian. The bathroom on the train was awfully smelly and dirty. And, of
course, as vast majority of the bathrooms in
China
, there was no toilet paper. The kids just couldn't remember bringing
bathroom tissue with them; I was left to be the "bathroom servant."
One day after a nice banquet, my older son
asked me to teach him how to squad down using the toilet. I did. After few
minutes, he came out and told me, “I don’t feel like going any
more.”
One day walking on the street, suddenly had
the urge to go. Luckily, there was a bathroom near by. I paid the fee they
asked and got in. Fortunately, I checked around and found no tissue in the
bathroom before my “business.”
I went out and asked the people to give me some toilet
tissue, immediately, she asked for money, four times the admission fee. As
I don’t have the change for tissue and really can’t hold any longer, I
told her impatiently, “I will pay you after!”
You really have to prepare yourself with
diarrhea medicine when traveling there. Diarrhea is something links you to
the bathroom quite often as well.
I also visited the
Female Street
in
Beijing
, one of the famous streets that the media are publicizing. I went there
with my classmate. Not only you have to squad down, but also, your space
is open and everyone could see you doing any kind of ‘business.’.
My classmate was ‘kind’ enough to wait right in front of me after
she’d done. I struggled for a brief moment on whether to stand up or ask
her to go out first.
However, one piece of good news, at
Beijing
International
Airport
, the bathroom is very nice and clean. I liked it a lot! Finally!
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