Toilets Solve Melancholy! Read all About it!

As my departure date from India looms near I'm pondering my life here and the thought of leaving it with a very melancholy outlook.

No more will I be able to buy my exquisitely sweet but tiny bananas for Rs 1 ($0.02) apiece. No more will I be able watch an Indian villiagewoman walk sedately down the side of the road in her bright multi-coloured sari with a pitcher of water balanced on her head. And I can just say good-bye to my beloved sambar and iddly in the mornings.

(I just have to note here, that you may have noticed that I’ve spent way more time complimenting Indian food than I ever had French food. This is because I frankly think that Indian food is underappreciated worldwide. Not that I don’t think French food is good (which it is) it’s just I love Indian food way way more and I really don’t understand why more people don’t know about it)

As I was becoming overcome with the despair of being deprived of my favourite foods of all time, I decided to pull myself out of my funk by thinking of all of the things that I don’t like about India and that wouldn't happen Singapore (which is my next stop by the way) once I got there.

Here’s what I thought of:

Toilet Paper.

Aaaaaaaaah. Now this is a great example of one of those little things in life you take for granted, but when it’s not there, you notice it a lot. Like when somebody knowingly uses the last bit of toilet paper off the roll and leaves it to the next person to replace it cause they’re too lazy. That somebody’s usually me, but let’s forget about that right now. I’ve been sufficiently punished, you might say.

In India nobody ever does this.

That’s rather considerate and industrious of them you might say.

WRONG!

They don’t ever forget to replace the toilet paper roll because they don’t use toilet paper!

None whatsoever.

Nada.

How do they wipe themselves, then? you ask? Water. Next to their “toilets” (which are squatholes, basically. The picture on the right shows a typical one that smells even worse than it looks (like death having one of its moods). And yes, those little silver ovals are designed for you to stand on) they always have either a tap with a bucket underneath, or, if you’re in a relatively fancy place, a funky hose with a nozzle that reminds me of the thing that hooks up to my old kitchen sink that makes it easier to wash dishes.

After they’ve done their business, they. . . splash themselves clean. They’ll also touch themselves (*giggles immaturely*) to get rid of the more stubborn bits. Always with their left hand, because they eat with their right hand (no cutlery here) so as to avoid poisoning themselves.

Then they “flush” the toilet by filling the bucket once more and washing out the entire thing, and continue on their way, letting their privates dry in time. It’s hot enough down here for that to work, but I feel sympathy for those poor blokes up in the Himalayas right now.

I, being the intrepid explorer that I am, decided to try it.

It’s fine when you pee, because you don’t have to do anything other than a few quick splashes. But when it comes time to poo. . . well, I’m sure you don’t wanna know.

And now I carry a roll of toilet paper with me at all times. 'Nough said.

OK, so that took a longer time to explain than I’d thought (whoever thought that toilets could be such a rich topic? Of course, I have an intern architect friend who’s assignment was to design toilets, so you’d be surprised. Maybe we should take some more time to appreciate the toilets who take our crap so stoically every once in awhile.) so I’ll just end with two notes:

Note #1 – I haven’t had a hot shower in almost six months, now. India doesn’t seem to believe in heated water. So cold showers all the way!

Note #2 – I’m really starting to look forward to leaving. ;)

Luff y’all tons and tons,

Bisous,

Namaste,

Lentil,

The Girl Who Just Drew A Mural on Her Wall With Her Roomie