Thing I Find Weird About China, Part 1: Bathroom Etiquette

There are two things I want to address in this post: the bathroom setup itself and pottytraining youngsters in the suburbs.

Right now, as you read this, you are probably sitting on your couch or in a chair at home relaxing. You probably had a long day at work or school and are using some time to unwind. Maybe you are even indulging in a nice glass of wine or a cold beer, because let’s face it, you deserve it after the weeks you’ve been putting in. I know, life is rough. After a few, you will have to excuse yourself to the little ladies or gents room, as expected. You use the upright standing toilet without fear or remorse, as after your many years of life on this planet you are accustomed to such and see no problems with your bathroom routine. You flush, reach over to turn on the sink, wash your hands (thoroughly, I hope) and dry them on the soft, sweetly-scented towels you keep hanging on the towel rack. You then proceed back to your couch to continue your unabashed indulgence of the good life. This pattern is similar at all restaurants where you live, except it includes good food, great company and more alcohol.

I, however, do not enjoy in the luxury of your bathroom routine. I no longer think of utilizing bathroom facilities as a painless and familiar experience. China has forever changed my understanding of “public hygiene”, “toilets”, and the term “simple” being used to describe a natural process that occurs several times a day. Here’s why.

I am more than certain many of you have not seen an Eastern-style toilet stall. These are shaped just like a Western toilet stall in a public bathroom: rectangular door, semi-functional lock, signs asking you to flush. However, the toilet itself is a very unwelcome surprise when you swing the door open, as it is literally a porcelain hole in the floor. You are expected to squat over the hole, with your two feet to the side of it, and try to balance. Holding onto the wall, although an option, is not always smart considering the lack of cleaning most of these public facilities go through. Toilet paper does not exist; I have been laughed at a couple of times when I have been desperate enough to use these places and asked someone for help. Chinese people consider our style of bathroom etiquette to be unsanitary as in their scenario you do not need to have your hands anywhere near the actual process. Sometimes you are lucky to have a door on the stall. Now don’t get me wrong: in many upscale hotels and dining facilities, Western-style toilets do exist and are kept pristine for their Foreigner guests. But really, who comes to China to hibernate in these places? Women: living/travelling in China means you have excellent leg muscles. Men: living/travelling in China means that you, too, have excellent leg muscles.

You can imagine my despair at discovering this washroom for the first time, which occurred at a transfer subway station platform when I thought I might pee my pants if I didn’t shove everyone into the oncoming metro train and dash for the nearest closed door. I was mortified as it was the worst bathroom I had ever seen, reeked something foul AND I HAD to use it or suffer the consequences. I can honestly say I have used an Eastern toilet less than the fingers on both my hands over these past three months out of fear.

Continuing with bathroom talk, the rural Chinese have an incredibly… interesting way of potty training their young children. As discussed previously, I live in a suburb of Beijing called Tongzhou, the Mississauga or Markham of Beijing, if you will. Although being on the major subway line, I am still considered to be out of Beijing by the snooty high class of Beijing society. I don’t really notice the rural life in my day-to-day activities, except for incidents like this.

From the age of three or four months until they are about three years old, Chinese children wear pants with a hole in the bottom. The hole exposes their entire baby butt, so its almost like their parents took a pair of scissors and cut out the entire seat part of the pants. Children do not wear diapers, so walking around Tongzhou means you will see at least one baby bum running around in front of your eyes. Every hour or so, the mother of the child whistles a specific tone that they have trained their child to become accustomed to. When the child hears this tone, they squat in the middle of the street and pee. No joke. If they are too young to stand on their own, the mother leans the child on her chest and holds their legs out in the air, as if they are squatting without the ground underneath them, and they pee that way. I have never seen a child do a #2 (Thank GOD) so I will not comment on this.

How weird is that?!?! This is by far the most shocking thing I have experienced in China so far. I wanted to take a picture of it to post on this blog, but I couldn’t decide what was stranger: a child mid-squat peeing on the street or an odd, foreign white girl taking a picture of a child mid-squat peeing on the street. In retrospect, I think I would be the stranger of the two.

You’ll have to excuse the slowdown of posts over the last month. November is a big month during the school year. This month my agenda, so far, has included writing and marking midterms for 140 students, preparing notes these students for parent-teacher interviews this Friday, two weekly meetings, and getting over a slight stomach virus keeping me tired all the time. I have also been to a number of nice restaurants (but still managed to loose weight!), switched my pills back and forth, gone shopping, seen some new sights and had a night or two of heavy drinking, all of which will be commented on soon. Also, my personal computer has broken: the screen has almost fallen off, the keys are difficult to push and I have to click something two or three times for it to process. I am using my school computer, so access to blogger and facebook is limited.

I miss you all! I’m back at the end of January for a month, don’t forget it!