Sunday, April 01, 2007

Not An April Fool’s Joke:

Talk to anyone who has traveled to Asia (China and India especially) about their experience and toilets will definitely come up in the conversation. Before traveling it is almost always the biggest concern; “I heard there’s no toilet paper.” “Is it true that you have to poop in a hole in the ground?” Worries like this always come up and for whatever reason, people are usually terrified of such “unconventional” pooping environments.

Its odd that we’d be so preoccupied with going number two; there was even a book published called “How to poop in foreign countries.” In actuality, this activity takes thirty minutes (tops) out of a 24-hour day. It doesn’t involve any kind of consumption. Doing it wrong can’t make you physically ill. No matter how its done, the end result is the same and the process won’t kill you… so What’s the big deal?

I, too, was terrified before arriving in Taiwan. The toilet paper thing was no big deal… any experienced traveler knows that if a country is half-way interesting, you should probably bring your own TP around with you. But I wasn’t excited about pooping in a hole.

The myths are, in-fact, true; the majority of toilets here are ceramic troughs, over which one must squat to shit. At first, the sight of them is really awkward; it is continuously funny that this could still happen in the year 2007. Most visitors from the west will go to great lengths to avoid them. I wouldn’t leave the hotel (where we had a “western” toilet) until I had shit for the day. Friends tolmd me stories about trekking across town, checking out each bathroom or having to cross their school campus daily to use the one western toilet (usually for disabled people). People will purposefully eat at McDonalds or KFC over a Chinese restaurant, because western food usually equals a western toilet.

As for myself, I got up some courage after a few weeks in this country and tried it out There are pros and cons to this style of defecation. This is the natural way, and things do tend to move quicker and more pleasantly. The trough doesn’t have much water, so you get to look at what you produced and study it for a few minutes… while none will admit to this, we are all fascinated by our little creations.

On the other hand, its hard to poop in a hole and assure that nothing will hit your pants or t-shirt or shoes; this fear still plagues me, after nine months. Also, this position tends to give me cramps in my groin and I sometimes have to limp out of the bathroom. The position isn’t particularly relaxing and is not-at-all conducive to reading.

Overall however, just like eating a chicken’s asshole or a pigs intestines and ears, nothing is ever as bad as it sounds and pooping in a hole is not awful.

When western people meet in a squat-shitting country, it is usually one of the first topics to discuss and laugh about. I love to ask what people think about it all. Hippies like to jabber about natural living and better connections with our diets, but for the most part, people feel like I do:

“I prefer to strip down completely naked, just to avoid the possibility of shitting on my clothes. After I remove my clothes and drape them over the door, I don’t mind it much.” -Tal (Johannesburg, South Africa).

“I’ve been here 7 years, I’ve never used a squat toilet; I refuse.” –Michael (Ontario, Canada)

“It really gives new meaning to the expression -can’t tell your ass from a hole in the ground.” – Chris (California, USA)

“Not only are you squatting over a hole, but your sweating fucking bullets [it was a hot summer] with mosquitoes buzzing around your face. On top of it all, you have a tub of stinky toilet paper in your face [used TP goes in a trash bin in Taiwan] and there is nothing to do, but stare at your own duke.” - Phillip (Kentucky, USA)

Obviously, foreigners prefer western toilets. As for the Taiwanese, though squat toilets are the most common, fancy restaurants and malls, as well as homes in always have western toilets. So the obvious question is… “If everyone prefers western toilets, why don’t they replace all the toilets in the country?” Its not Ghana, if they can afford toilets, they can just as well afford good toilets.

There is more to it though. Often, if a public bathroom only has western toilets, you can see footprints on the toilet seat. This is evidence that people are actually squatting on perfectly comfortable, relaxing western toilets. I asked around and the people here think it’s disgusting to sit on a public seat, rubbing asses with hundreds of other people. This is the same culture that won’t wear their shoes in the house, because of outside contamination.

My usual method (like Tal) is to strip down naked and then let it all go. When cross contamination is no longer possible, shitting in a hole isn’t an awful experience and is kind of a fun adventure. The following is a story that I shouldn’t be sharing with anyone…

Today, I ate with some friends at a cool little Japanese place. I got the tempura and some other fancy fish sticks but toward the end of the meal, was struck with the sudden urge to go number two. To my dismay, there was a hole in the ground, but I knew I didn’t have time to get fully naked. Lately I’ve been practicing, and if I’m careful, I can go with my pants around my ankles.

So in a hurry, I got in position, double and triple checked my war path and let everything go. I was so concerned with checking myself, I forgot to check my location.

Long story short, I ended up shitting on the tile floor, behind the toilet. By the time I noticed where it was going, I couldn’t really stop and soon after, I was laughing too hard to do anything about it.

My shit wasn’t like water, but it wasn’t exactly scoop-able either, so in the end, I was left with a gross mess. I used about 2 pounds of toilet paper to push it into the trough, but I couldn’t work any miracles and it was still obvious that some foul play had occurred there.

I really enjoy the food at this place and there are quite a few really cute waitresses, but I don’t think I can eat there anymore.

slightly lame

This one is slightly lame... it was written for my Chinese School's newsletter. The topic was... How Would you Choose to introduce Taiwan to a Friend? So I had to do a lot of fluffing... read on if you like though.

Over the past two and a half years, I’ve crossed Taiwan several times. From the beaches of Kenting to the shiny sidewalks of Xinyi, from Taroko Gorge to Alishan, Taiwan is beautiful; there are wonderful sights, incredible temples and interesting foods. What has always struck me here though, was the people. I’ve been to dozens of countries on five continents but the Taiwanese are some of the most welcoming, kind-hearted people I’ve seen in my life. This is evident in the way the Taiwanese treat foreigners, but also in the way they treat one another. Her are just a couple of the many times when I’ve felt true warmth from the Taiwanese people.

My first such experience came about after I’d been in Taiwan a mere 2 days. I was exploring the streets of Tainan and was still jet-lagged, culture shocked and awestruck by everything I saw. I had left my dorm to trek the smoggy, dusty, maze of streets of one day and within 3 or 4 minutes I was completely and utterly lost. I curiously wandered around all-day and evening, hoping to eventually stumble across my dorm.

At about 11:00 PM, after hours and hours of walking, I started to get worried. The streets got darker as more businesses were closing and I was becoming more and more pessimistic about ever finding my way back. I had (smartly) circled my home on a map of the city, but no matter how long I gazed at this map, I was completely unable to find where I was, where I was going, or how to get there.

On a nameless corner, I stood on the sidewalk, turning my map right side up and upside down, looking like a total bonehead, when a young man approached me on a scooter. In broken English, he asked if I needed help. I showed him the pathetic little circle on my map and then asked how I could get there.

He explained the directions as clearly as he could, marking up the map with a blue ballpoint pen. He then, offered to take me on his scooter. I was a very cautious traveler and was sure that any stranger inviting me on his motorcycle wanted nothing more than to take me to a dark alley, kill me, cut my body into 100 pieces and scatter them into a river.

This invitation lessened my trust for him; I respectfully turned him down, and cautiously headed on my way, constantly looking over my shoulder to see that he wasn’t following me, plotting to kidnap me.

Over two years later, I have to say I am a little embarrassed to tell that story. As I get to know the Taiwanese better and as I see how they treat other people, I am 100 percent confident, that this man would have taken me home and perhaps offered to buy me a beer or a cup of tea on the way. He definitely would have asked me for my msn and invited me to hang out with him and his friends or family on a day in the future.

Another experience came about months later. A couple of my friends were visiting from Tokyo and I was to be their incompetent, boastful tour guide. We stayed in a nice hotel on Linsen North Road, and I spent each day trying to prove to them that I could navigate the city, speak Chinese and introduce them to Taiwanese culture. I was failing miserably at all of these things, but we still managed to have fun.

Walking down a small alley one morning, I peeked into a temple, complete with small wooden benches, several Buddhist statues and a large vase holding incense sticks. Oddly, the security guard was sleeping and there was a TV and a kitchen in the temple, but I suggested that we go in anyway.

“Are you sure he won’t mind? He’s sleeping,” my friends asked.

“Hey,” I commanded, “I live here… I understand this place… it will be fine.”

We walked in, took pictures, tried to seem profound and strolled around for about 3 minutes, when the guy suddenly woke up. He looked confused for a second, but then invited the three of us to sit down and drink oolong tea with him. We graciously accepted and were all thrilled that we could drink REAL Taiwanese tea with a REAL Taiwanese man. He couldn’t speak English, nor could I speak Chinese, but I pretended to understand and said “dui a” a lot.

When he paused, implying that he had asked a question, I would just respond by saying, “Mei guo” or “lao shih.”

After 10 or fifteen minutes, the man excused himself to make a phone call. He came back a few moments later handing me a cell phone. On the other end, was a young woman, speaking English.

She said hello and explained that I was sitting, drinking tea with her father. Then she paused for a minute…“My father says he is happy to drink tea with you, but is wondering what you’re doing in our house.”

At that point I realized, this wasn’t a temple at ALL! We were in the man’s house! I had seen an open door, a Buddhist statue and just assumed it was a public place of worship. In my country, a mistake like this could get someone arrested or even killed! But here, it only got me a cup of tea.

As I said before, I could point to dozens of situations where I was literally amazed by Taiwanese and their friendliness. For this reason, I know exactly how I’d introduce Taiwan to my friends from abroad. I’d tell them it is a small country with some of the biggest hearts in the world. I’d tell them that I trust the people here as a whole and am happy to call them my neighbors.