Restrooms - Reflections of a Traveler

      I realize I've discussed toilets extensively, but it truly warrants its own entry. The only western-style toilets I encountered were in hotels. One in Chengdu was fully electronic; it had self-flushing, warm seats, an integrated bidet, and a control panel on the wall that was too complex to figure out during a short stay. Other hotels had more standard flush toilets. After that, things took a turn for the worse. Every toilet mentioned below shares at least one common aspect: there is no toilet paper available. Another frequent issue is the absence of stall doors. The overpowering scent of ammonia and feces is relentless. I’m not sure if there is a responsible party to clean these facilities, but the conditions reflect not just a single day of neglect, but rather an accumulation over time. At one point during my trip, I concluded that maintaining good hygiene here was simply impossible. No amount of hand sanitizer or wet wipes could counteract what must come from those toilets. It’s a place where the two-second rule does not apply, and I can’t imagine the filth tracked into every home and business.

      In larger cities, public squat toilets can be found. These are porcelain rectangles on the floor, marked with "non-slip" foot placements on either side of the opening. It’s quite a challenge to keep your pants off the ground (given that people have urinated on the surrounding floor) while squatting. There are no handholds for support. The locals must have incredibly strong calf muscles. I only came across one that was clean; many seemed to have suffered from diarrhea, with even the foot pads soiled. Precision is essential and a skill I’m still trying to master. Some of these toilets had a nearby tub with a pan for scooping water to flush. Since they do not accommodate paper, used paper is placed in a waste bin.

      The next tier down was simply a rectangular cut in the floor that emptied into an open pit below. These pits clearly hadn’t been emptied for some time and were mostly exposed to the outside at the back of the building. In the worst-case scenario, wind blowing up the hill would carry the odor from the pit into the rectangle, saturating you in its stench. Upon reaching very remote areas, our guide advised against even entering and suggested finding a spot outside instead. The presence of toilet paper and piles of feces indicated this had become a common practice. Occasionally, when the stops were too far apart, the guide would announce a "natural toilet," instructing men to one side of the van and women to the other. Cars and buses would continue to pass by as this practice was accepted as part of life. My shoes will need thorough disinfection once I return home.

      At one teahouse, there was the "SkyView" toilet: two stalls, one for men and one for women, with walls only waist-high and no roof or door. None of the businesses, including teahouses, have private toilets and direct customers to the public facilities instead. I recalled a visit to Beijing years ago, where I noted that homes typically do not have toilets, relying on a common public toilet for that area. I was quite surprised one day while using a squat toilet to hear someone in the adjacent stall comfortably squatting and watching videos on their phone, much like one might read a magazine on a conventional toilet. However, to "relax" in a squatting position is something my body cannot manage. Additionally, the stench in every toilet triggers a gag reflex. During my brief time here, I have become slightly less repulsed by the situation; I suppose it is simply accepted as a way of life.

      One day, we stopped at a scenic viewpoint, and I noticed throughout the day that an older Malaysian woman in the group hurried to use the toilet at each stop. I suspected she was dealing with loose stools and was trying to manage between stops. At this particular stop, she walked briskly to the restroom, and I followed, as I needed to pee. Upon arrival, she was pacing between stalls, trying to find one that was the least repulsive, but the conditions were appalling. Tears streamed down her face as she held a handkerchief to her nose and exclaimed, "I must go. I have no choice." I felt deep sympathy for her.

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