If you didn’t grow up making poo jokes at the dinner table or discussing how many number twos you took that day, like I did, then this newsletter may be a little crass for you. But defecating is a natural part of being alive, something intrinsically primitive and human; so, if we can’t talk openly about this topic or take a peek before flushing1 to look our floating poo in the eye, then that signals a greater discomfort with being human than I think some of us want to acknowledge.
So, with that disclaimer of sorts laid out, let’s embark on some bathroom and taboo turd talk, shall we?
We all have our bathroom rituals. Whether it entails a cup of coffee, a cigarette, a glass of water with lemon, an open or closed door, clothes bunched up at the ankles or stripped off, we all have a preference. Some have very strong opinions when it comes to which way the roll of toilet paper should go on the toilet paper dispenser. After the toilet paper shortage in the early days of the pandemic, I think a lot of us were reminded of just how many types of toilet paper are on the market and how luxurious it is to have some—even if it is the kind that scratches your butt hole or crumbles on impact. Others, though, were inspired to seek out alternatives to toilet paper to use less of it.
The toilet-attachable bidet, the Tushy! as it’s so cutely called, started catching on in the States (it’s advertised by a number of podcasts, so that’s probably why). Europeans, of course, have the bidet. Asian counties have the bum gun.
Frankly, as much as I love the idea of using less toilet paper, the bum gun just doesn’t work with the female anatomy. Spraying front to back is a skill that I just can’t seem to master, and the risk of getting it wrong is just too great.
Even when sitting on the Rolls-Royce of toilets, the Japanese toilet—touting a butt blow-dry feature, multi-heated seat functions, various spray speeds and angles—I can’t push myself to break my bathroom habits and dabble with anything outside what I’m use to (aside from the warming toilet seat; that’s magical).
Out of fear of being caught sitting down to relieve myself (with a case of #ThaiTummy, God forbid!) in a place that would leave me toilet-paperless, I’ve gotten into the habit of squirreling away toilet paper in my purse.
I feel an appropriate note on toilet paper must be included at this point in your reading: TP is not to be disposed of in the toilet here. That’s a big no-no, you silly farang.2
Like seriously, no.
The septic systems are far too fragile here, and foreigners often seem to ignore the sometimes five-plus signs in a barely 4’x4’ bathroom that reminds visitors of this fact. Into the trash can the TP must go! That is, if you’re even given toilet paper.
I’ve really come to appreciate the luxury public restrooms—mostly found in the more “polished” or touristy frequented areas, like the mall—that provide toilet paper. When I see a roll in the stall, I shed a happy tear. Not only is toilet paper a rarity in public restrooms here but so is soap. Hot water? Forget about it. You’ll only encounter that in the shower.
Speaking of showers, sometimes they’re over the toilets in the form of a hand-held nozzle (a larger bum gun, if you will). Shower doors, curtains, and a different shower floor segregating the washing area from the rest of the bathroom are a rarity. The walls and floors are almost always tile, with one or two drains situated in various corners of the bathroom. There’s often a spigot on the wall, too, to fill up a bucket of water for manual flushing (because that’s a thing sometimes, too). Any fear you hold of having explosive diarrhea or not making it to the toilet in time if you have to puke is squashed the minute you realize the wall-to-floor tiling and various spray guns in every bathroom here would make cleaning up such a mess pretty easy. As much as the Thais love Western decor, they wouldn’t dream of having fuzzy toilet seat covers with the matching bathroom mat, toilet carpet, and hand towels that my grandparents had. Thank goodness! That said, it gets slippery in a Thai bathroom, so be careful.
Up to this point, the toilet you’ve been picturing in your mind is likely the seated toilet. That’s not the only porcelain throne to be found out here. Aside from the standard sitting toilet, there is also the squatting toilet. And sometimes, the squatting potty is your only option. Although, a lot of airports offer a different toilet selection to choose from that’ll suit all travelers’ toilet preferences, most public restrooms—the ones found at walking markets, in restaurants, and other establishments frequented mostly by the locals—leave you with either just the squatting toilet or a regular toilet—both options, I should add, require manual flushing (i.e. scooping water from a bucket into the toilet) and leave you with no toilet paper, unless you buy it for 5 THB (Thai Baht, the local currency3) on top of the other 3 or 5 THB you sometimes have to pay to use a public restroom (most often at a temple). Safe to say, I try to use the public restrooms in these places only if I have to pee, i.e., if I can get away with a lil’ drip dry. (I’ve never been more jealous of you penis-owners in my life!)
A porcelain or metal squatting/sunken toilet (basically just a hole with a more savory cover over it) is more popular than my first days in Southeast Asia let on. After opening numerous bathroom stalls at this point, I’ve come to anticipate and embrace the surprise of what kind of toilet I’ll encounter. The unpredictability continues to be a fun variable in my day. The public restroom signs that kindly remind people not to squat on top of a seated toilets also elicit a smile from me, even on the days I’m feeling a lil’ glum.
It was quite jarring to encounter the squatting toilet for the first time. I knew they existed, but seeing and using one is a whole other experience—as jarring as someone who’s never seen a standard sitting toilet would likely feel, I imagine. I will say, as confusing and scary as these squatting toilets may be when you first encounter them, after you squat once, you’ll likely squat again. The positioning aligns your colon to release with such ease. This toilet definitely inspired the Squatty Potty (a pooping stool I love and you should check out, too, if your only toilet option is the standard sitting one). With memories of my Squatty Potty in mind, I put aside my fear and used the squatting toilet on the train from Bangkok to Chiang Mai…because I had to. I was stuck on that train for 13 hours with a rumbly tummy. Gotta say: One of the best poos of my life. They’re on to something over here in Asia. I just wish the flushing directions were a bit clearer…
I’d be remise to talk about the bathrooms without mentioning the smell: something like clogged toilet meets clogged shower drain meets muddy humid air meets dead crabs left to bake in the sun at low tide. Something like a raw fish dunked in shrimp sauce left out in the hot sun to marinate. You’d just have to be here to smell it to know exactly what I’m talking about. It makes your nose recoil every time. (If you’ve visited any part of Asia, I’m sure your nose just wrinkled at the thought of it.) Even outside of the bathroom, when dining outside at a cafe on a soi4 or riding on the motorbike, you’ll catch a whiff of it wafting up from the street drains from time to time. You get used to it, though. The humidity in Bali really played up this scent in a way that doesn’t compare to Thailand. Thanks to the Thai’s affinity for AC, the smell is kept at bay a bit.
Air fresheners, scented soaps and detergents, etc. are also plentiful to make up for and cover up this scent. You’ll often find them hanging from the sinks, doors, or towel racks in the bathrooms. But let’s be real: the cover up just makes it more apparent. The wrestling of the odors in my nostrils is less savory than the putrid smell alone.
Aside from adjusting to the new bathroom environment, there is also the adjustment to, well, the poos themselves. New introductions of microorganisms and foods that come with traveling make this an inevitable reality. A change in meal frequency and size. Too much or too little fiber than you’re used to. Too much spice. Traveler’s diarrhea, aka Bali Belly, Thai Tummy, Montezuma’s Revenge (Mexico). Call it whatever you want, but when you get a little bug that leads to a domino effect of gastric rumblings that need to come out one end (or, so help me, the other), this adds an interesting wrinkle to your day. Dealing with questionable poos is unpleasant, especially if you pride yourself on being pretty regular like I do. Sometimes, even probiotics can’t save you.
Soon, pooing is no longer something that remains undiscussed. It’s not something you can hide. I was never one to pretend I didn’t poop or fart with my romantic partners, but even if I was, a trip to Southeast Asia would’ve quickly shattered that illusion that “girls don’t poop”.
Soon, pooing becomes something you need to garner community support to do. You need to know you’re not in it alone, that someone else is struggling or has come out the other side after powering through some type of inter-intestinal battle.
When you’re in doubt of what will come out the other end and what that’ll mean for your next 24, 48, or 72 hours, it’s nice to be reassured.
After pooing too much or not pooing for days, it’s also nice to be congratulated on a job on the John well done.
So, yeah, the bathrooms and (my) poos here are a bit different. I had to lower my expectations. I had to get comfortable with the uncomfortable: I have to sit down and relieve myself without thinking twice about what will (or will not) come out the other end. My GI system is forced to adjust day to day, meal to meal. But this whole experience of traveling to Southeast Asia has, for me, elicited—and continues to incite—a lot of laughs, memories, and personal triumphs. So, here’s to eating new things, sitting down in (sometimes questionable) bathrooms, and pooing in new places!
Thanks for reading. I hope this newsletter has encouraged you to normalize the conversation around poo. Wishing you a great BM today and always.
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Real talk: The state of your bowel movements (the consistency, size, texture, etc. coupled with how many times we poo a day) can tell you a lot about our overall health and the state of our GI system. If you’re unfamiliar with the Bristol Scale, get familiar with it (one Google search will set you straight).
Farang is slang for “foreigner” in Thai. It’s used a lot to refer to white/European foreigners, specifically, in Southeast Asian countries, but it traditionally comes from the Persian language, in reference to the Franks (a Germanic tribe).
To put this in perspective for you, 5 THB (Thai Baht) is equal to 14 U.S. cents (!!!).
Soi is Thai for “street”, referring specifically to a side-street that branches off a main road.
Hi Marge, this article was obviously hilarious. The text screenshots had me cackling. What I love so much about this blog is that we are getting to see the whole of you. Your intellect, wit, and curiosity come through, but so does your hilarity and endearingly relatable lack of glamour. This is evidence to me of the best thing you can ask for in an artistic practice: the showing! up! You’re doing it and you’re doing it well. A big congrats is in order.