Crouching jen hidden toilet roll - China

Our trip into China began with a 24 hour train journey. If I'd had enough imagination I would have realised long before I needed the loo that squat toilets and moving trains don't combine well. Luckily we managed to take a picture of the facilities fairly early on in the day - so you can see for yourselves. Please excuse the blur, its hard to keep the camera still when the carriage is wobbling.


At that moment in time its all clean but basic. And basically difficult to use. Its a shame that you can't go for 24 hours without.

So, how about China proper? Well the Hostels are great and cater for us foreigners just fine. Sometimes squats, sometimes western toilets, sometimes even toilet roll - although that is a rarity and people do a roaring trade selling small packets of tissues. Facilites are nearly always clean, although they have yet to create drains that cope with toilet paper. Which reminds me - I recently got an email from a fellow traveller, Matt, on this subject. Poo is always a popular topic of conversation amongst travellers. This is what he had to say:
'As an Englishmen I live in daily hope that I am able to coincide my
'timings' with the occasional cleaning and emptying of crap bags, that in
theory takes place. Some hotels empty their bins during your visit- there is
nothing like visiting a water closet with such an overflowing bin.

Science has proved beyond doubt that a buttered piece of toast will always
fall butter side down. Unfortunately this particular law of physics does not
apply in the South American bathroom. Due to the inherent aerodynamic
properties impressed upon a piece of toilet tissue during its cycle of
existence, it will inevitably fall 'face' up.

Thanks for that Matt, and I'm glad you allowed me to share that particular observation with the Crouching Jen readers. The same physics hold true in the Far East by the way. I just wish that they'd discovered bins with LIDS.

But No. Its gets worse.

There are not enough words in the English language to sufficiently describe the horrors of chinese public conveniences. They take the word 'public' to new levels.

Imagine you're a disabled English traveller in Xi'an. You follow the signs to the disabled facilities - into the ladies toilets - and see the toilet before you in all its glory. Before you, and everyone else in the queue that is. With a row of sinks to the right and a row of too small for you to use cubicles to the left - the disabled squat sits with its handrails (or more accurately it squats) unfair and square at the end of the room, devoid of any screening. Horrified you look around. Hopefully you try to fit into a cubicle. Helplessly you realise its the only option. Thats when you catch the eye of the only other foreigner in the room.

We exchanged only a short glance but she positively SCREAMED 'help'. I tried to nod and smile encouragingly and pointedly looked to the side to give the illusion of privacy. Unfortunately the Chinese are known for their capacity to stare, especially at foreigners.

Anyway. Just when I was getting the hang of squat toilets and beginning to wonder what all the fuss was about - I visit China and discover where the modern squat originated from. Gone are the handy hoses with useful spray attachments. Squats come in a variety of types. Each of them with their own unique and disgusting selling points (DSP).

DSP #1: Low walls

Everyone is familiar with the concept of cubicles. They allow a bit of privacy right? Unless of course there's no door on the cubicle. And the walls of the cubicle are only hip height. And the chinese version of queing means that you stand right in in front of the cubicle you want to use, sighing and staring at the person currently using it. Talk about stage fright.

Here is nice clean example of DSP #1 taken at a Monastery we stayed in over-night. Luckily the ladies was empty at the time of this particular visit.


Note the foggy appearance. That'll be the fog coming through the glassless windows.

DSP #2: Communal drain

For this one you do at least have a proper cubicle with doors and walls. In the cubicle is a bin and running along the floor is what appears to be a stainless steel channel. The idea is that you straddle the channel. Do what you came to do. And leave.

Doesn't sound too disgusting yet, but I can see that you're already thinking one step ahead of me. Did I mention that the channel runs the full length of the room and doesn't contain any water?

Now theres a number of scenario's that can happen here. i] you can do your business then wonder how the hell you dispose of the evidence, or ii] You can be mid way through your performance when suddenly a 'river' appears beneath you complete with a strangers turd.

Either way is far from ideal. The single 'flush' button is handily placed, unlabelled, at the far end of the room by the exit door right next to the light switch. Which allows the added adventure of doing it in the dark.

DSP #3: Hole in the ground

This one is similar to DSP#1 without the added benefit of a porcelain footplate, flush or modern drainage. In fact it is a hole straight into the ground from which things are meant to 'seep' away, and you can smell them from about 50 metres. Enough said.


This is an example of DSP#3 taken on Mount Emei.

The Lonely Planet recommends that you practice holding your breath for extended periods of time or take up smoking. Preferably a really strong brand of cigarette that produces a nice personal fog.

On that note I'll leave you. All of you lucky buddhas within reach of a lovely clean, fragrant, private and fully flushing convenience, count your blessings.

I've been crouching Jen and you've been disgusted. Thanks for dropping by.

Jen
xx