On Chopsticks

I have come to measure a country on the sophistication (and to an extent, the cleanliness) of their public toilets. What I've discovered is that if you can't squat, and I mean heals flat on the floor, you had better hold it.

I can't squat.

My mom says I swallowed a broom stick as a child. I'm not flexible. I also find great comfort in my time on the throne. I usually bring something to read.

No fuckin' way over here.

I'm doing my best not to topple over into my own (and anyone else that may have missed) waste. By the way, don't forget to bring your TP because there is none provided. I actually get pissed if I have to use one of these holes in the floor. Furious even. I curse all of China when I have to use one. I rarely get mad at things beyond my control, but this is one of them.

The thing is it doesn't end with the toilets, and believe it or not it does get worse. No, the toilets/WC's I've had the misfortune of using were more modern examples of the Chinese version of an out-house.

At the foundry I'm working at there is a new building being built. Brand new. This facility is to operate year round and it gets cold up here in Pulandian. So you can imagine my shock when I discovered what constitutes a "rest room" for the workers at this new place. I only had to have a piss but I didn't want to be a barbarian and just find any old spot to make my water. So I asked.

What a shock.

I was directed to the rear of the property. There I found a small bunker like building with no doors and only little plus sign shapes in the wall (courtesy of strategically missing bricks) as windows. I climb the rise to enter what is now obviously an out house and am greeted by one of the rings of hell.

The room is about 12 x 12 (feet). On the left is a trench I suspect has a drain to the cesspool on my right. I know its a cesspool because I can see it through four convenient slots cut in the floor with ramps that lead down to the water's edge. There is all manner of garbage run down these ramps to the water along with a healthy dose of slithering shit. I'll be damned if they won't wipe their ass with anything, magazines, newspapers, napkins, up to and including plastic bags. And clearly some of these poor bastards HAD to wipe. There's shit spattered on the wall from some emergency that wasn't addressed soon enough.

I took pictures.

There are many common threads between the two versions of "hole in the ground" but the one I'd like to point out is the lack of anyplace to clean yourself up. No sink at the outhouse, no soap at the sink indoors. Which leads me to the title of this post.

Chopsticks.

I think chopsticks are the equivalent of eating with your hands just several inches of wood to separate your dirty ass hands from your food. No one touches their food with their hands over here.

I can see why.