Not everyone wants to
know about toilets – but they should |
|
by
Lei
As in America, public toilets in India are few and far between.
When you do find one in India it is a gross, vile, cesspit where,
at best, your bottom cheeks remain clenched and retreat is
advised. The Indian male is however accommodated with tiled
splashback urinals that just appear on appointed walls placed
throughout the towns and cities with little logic as to their
location. Sometimes it is a quiet alleyway, other times, such as
in Jaipur, it is within metres of the palace gates. The urinals
are nothing but a wall with a catch drain that disappears into a
stinking hole in the ground. The shape and form of a pissing man
is quite obvious from both the side and rear so with this in mind
I attempt to apply a degree of modesty and correctness when using
them and try not to urinate where ladies might see my pissing
form. The Indian men however show no restraint. We are curious as
to how the Indian women fare in regards to public toilets, as none
seem to be provided. With this in mind I am still hoping that
India doesn’t embrace McDonalds and their McAllo Tikka Burgers
though this will unfortunately deny Indian women the widespread
convenience of the Golden Arches known to their American sisters.
We had determined that whilst in Nepal and India we would do as
the locals do which is to become bottom washers using water and
fingers as a cleaning aid rather than paper. Paper doesn't work in
the squat toilets as it seems to clog the system. Without paper
blockages the toilets seem to keep in a reasonable state but once
clogged they become a horrid pile of excreta that continues to
build until someone can clear it. All blocked, may I add, by a
paper-using tourist in every case. It is interesting to watch the
effect of tourism on India through the trail of toilet paper left
behind. The main train lines are filled with paper as the tourist
plop their way from Delhi to Calcutta or south to Mumbai. In the
cities where western toilets are provided toilet paper is
prevalent, adding to the congestion in the river as it makes its
way to the sea further clogging an already over polluted mess as
it goes.
The squat toilets throughout India and Nepal provide water either
by tap or by bucket. A small jug allows you to decant water into
your hand to squeak yourself clean. Left hand only please. After
your first bum wash the trepidation of getting your fingers dirty
leaves you. You stand, pleased with yourself, slightly damp but
far cleaner than having inadequately smeared the excreta about the
cheeks of your bottom with paper. An old Indian saying rings
true…"Do you not wash a buffalo with water to remove the
dirt rather than smear it over with news paper?"
After spending some time wiping your bum with your fingers you
come to realise the variations in the tactility of poo. You are
able to recall the barley meal breakfast from the day before, the
corn soup that you should have chewed, hard little guava seeds and
funnily the incredibly hot curry that made your lips burn and is
now burning once again as it says goodbye to your body.
The toilets on an Indian train are not for the faint hearted. The
cubicle is the same size as a western one but on entering it you
find there is no pedestal. On the floor, to one side, is a moulded
stainless steel squat pit with two moulded raised pads on which to
place your feet. Between these is a shute ready to accept your
deposit or anything that may fall from your pockets. The design of
the footpads seems to ensure you gain maximum bum cheek separation
by splaying your hips well apart. Indians do not use toilet paper.
Around the room are three taps operated by individual push valves,
each activated by the press of the heel of the hand. The one
across from you as you squat is used to fill your own small bucket
of water with which you wipe your bum. You keep topping up your
small bucket, balancing precariously as the train shakes and
rattles, pouring the water from your right hand into the palm of
your cupped left hand allowing the water to trickle down the
middle fingers, rubbing away the excrement as you go. It takes
practice and balance. From time to time it is possible to splash
water on to your clothing and in the case of severe diarrhoea it
is also quite easy to shit on yourself, most commonly your shoes
but in some cases your clothing. On the wall behind you is another
tap. This one is used to "flush" the poo from the
stainless steel surface where you just deposited. All this is fine
if the water in the toilet cubicle is working. When not available
the only option the Indians have is to wipe the poo onto a dry
surface, namely the walls. We chose to carry emergency paper for
these cases rather than join in with the finger painting contest.
|
|