Fun Fact Fridays (5)

After 56 days of being a resident of Korea (finally got my ARC- no more druggie), I’ve come to hate only one thing- the bathrooms. 

Although I’m not a connoisseur of toilets and bathrooms, I have standards.  Unfortunately, Korean hwa jang shil run quite short of my public relieving facility criterion. 

As most would believe, I never gave thought to any differences in Korean restrooms prior to departure.  Lord was this a shock when I first got here and noticed the array of changes.  And these differences should not be ignored.  Anyone and everyone traveling to Korea/Asia in general should be prepared for this ultimate culture shock.

I would be lying if I led you to believe that my very first experience with a hwa jang shil was the second I stepped off the plane on August 27.  While visiting in December I had my first encounter with these wretched things, but I seemed to somehow miss the absurdities that have seemed to snowball over the last 2 months.

Problem 1: Squatters.  I have no words to describe these other than a porcelain hole in the ground.  Koreans apparently missed the memo that toilets are referred to as “the porcelain throne”.  Now, typically when I think of a throne, I think of something you sit on.  But, as you can see below, there’s no sitting on these bad boys.  Ladies, you know that feeling when you’re in a (Western) public bathroom and you’re cowering (over a throne) and your quads start to burn?  Now just intensify that by 10.

Lesson in squatters: Strategically place one foot on each side of the… hole.  Pull down your pants as far as possible.  Hover over the… hole.  Pray.  Make sure to pray for 2 things: a) your legs have the strength to hold you up and b) that you don’t pee all over your feet, pants, the floor.

As I already have enough trouble peeing in a squatter, I haven’t even ventured passed number 1.  I literally pee all over the floor.  Sorry Korea, it’s not my fault that you put a hole 3 feet below where I normally go. And, according to my co-teacher, taking a douky is quite possible (yes, I actually asked her if Koreans were able to do number 2).

Problem 2:  Communal toilet paper.  Before entering your personal hole, you have to grab all needed items.  I don’t want others knowing what business I’m doing.  I mean after a few rolls it’s pretty obvious whose taking a dump and whose just urinating.  You might as well wear a sign that announcing what number you’re planning on doing.

Problem 3:  Why’s the toilet clogged???  Gah.  This is by far the most disgusting drawback to Korean bathrooms.  Toilet paper does not get thrown into the toilet.  (Isn't that why they call it toilet paper?)  Oh no, it goes straight into the trashcan sitting right there next to you.  Stinking, right there next to you.  GAH!  Fecal matter and all.

Problem 4:  After you’ve survived the squatter, found the toilet paper, and thrown it into the trashcan, its time to wash your hands, because, let’s be honest, you probably feel filthy by this point.  But wait, why is there a bar of soap, dangling from a metal bar, waving over the sink?  Where’s the automatic, hands-free, foam soap they have back in The States?  Stop looking.  It won’t magically appear.

I find it quite interesting that a culture who wears masks come flu season would let fecal matter putrefy for hours right next to your nose and would have communal bar soap.  Hmm.  Not a fan.

And although I have not experienced this, apparently some of the older style Korean bathrooms are unisex.  Nothing like peeing next to your brother.

But don’t let this deter you from ever visiting Korea.  Honestly, thrones are available in all bigger cities, but scarce in the country; everyone else is rolling off wads of toilet paper in public too, so really its not that embarrassing; from small talk, I’ve noticed that most, if not all Westerners toss their paper in the toilet; and there’s always hand sanitizer to eliminate 99.99% of germs.

I’ve adapted, but I won’t lie and tell you that their public restrooms are posh.