Is successfully using a squat toilet a sign you’ve “adjusted” to life in China?
I never grew comfortable with squat toilets, and the more public they were, the worse shape they were in. The absolute worst was in a public restroom in a smalltown bus station, where you had rectangle-shaped stone holes, side-by-side. No privacy.
I did everything I could to avoid using squat toilets, including running all the way from a restaurant back to my apartment when my stomach had an argument with one of Wuhan’s streetside offerings, and lost. Always thankful for the western toilet in my apartment; I never went as far as to worship it, but I did kneel before it a few times after some unfortunate nights with baijiu.
Others might come to China with prior squat toilet experience. If you stick to the highly developed areas, you may not have to worry about it. In France, there apparently are squat toilets. I never encountered any. Instead, in my dorm, we had Western toilets lacking seats. Weird, but I guess since you could buy portable toilet seats at the local Carrefour, there was no need to include any.
So China was my first experience with squat toilets, and I want to tell you about that. I don’t often write about my life — there’s a reason — but I feel like getting this off my chest.
Because living in China didn’t feel uneasy enough, a new draft law currently under review will require any foreigners staying longer than 6 months in China to have their fingerprints taken by the Entry & Exit Bureau and kept on file.
