Toilet tales
Ziying
The Star
Publication Date : 30-07-2008




The Beijing Olympics are just around the corner and a quick glance at the news websites will reveal that aside from preparations for the Games and for all sorts of contingencies, the city has taken great pains to assure visitors of the quality, availability and hygiene of its public conveniences.
A July 4 report in the China Daily quotes a 1994 Beijing tourism survey which unsurprisingly revealed that 60 per cent of foreign visitors were afraid of using the city’s public rest-rooms. That, of course, was long before Beijing was awarded the 2008 Olympics.
In the run-up to the Games, city authorities have reportedly installed 5,333 toilets, the most of any metropolis in the world, and 1,561 mobile ones, many of them at the Games venues.
China’s toilets have gained a notorious reputation since the country opened to tourism in the 1980s when the door-less communal Cultural Revolution lavatories became the overriding experience of shell-shocked visitors.
Not so long ago, mention travel to China and the first thing on some people’s lips was, “How are the toilets?” Even now, a few have said they hesitate or would never visit the country for fear of the “facilities”.

To be sure there are public conveniences, especially in the less developed areas, that would test one’s tolerance to the limit. But then, I am not one to dwell on a couple minutes of horror, or judge a country by any single factor. Moreover the past few years have seen many changes in the bigger cities and what is important is that things are constantly improving.
It goes without saying that the further away from the metropolitan areas, the more chances of experiencing an exotic toilet.
While travelling in Shanxi a few months ago, our group took a break at a mudbrick village an hour south of Datong city. A kind-hearted farmer allowed us into her earthen farmhouse that was no more than two small bedrooms with a narrow cooking area in between.
The toilet was nowhere to be seen and when asked, our hostess said it was on the other side of a low wall at the far end of the front yard. Expecting some kind of an outhouse, I rounded the fence and nearly fell into an open pit about 3m in diameter. Fortunately, the crater was empty save for some hay.
Last year I encountered an enclosed version of this facility in Gansu’s Hexi Corridor. Driving south from Jiuquan towards Lanzhou, we pulled into a highway rest stop to stretch our legs.
The place looked deserted and was so bitterly cold that the snack vendors just left their small bags of nuts on a rickety table outside with the price marked on a slip of cardboard.
The public convenience at the far end of the parking area was a bare cement box typical of the remote areas. Inside, however, the ceiling was bizarrely covered with angelic scenes of blue skies, white clouds and cupids.
It looked promising, until I almost plunged into a gaping abyss that, shall we say, had been much-used. Mercifully, although there were no doors, the trench was segmented by low walls that provided a measure of privacy.
A “transitional” and more prevalent model of this type of amenity consists of a long stainless steel or ceramic drain, also separated into small sections by low dividers, but with a flushing water tank at one end.
Granted lavatories like these are still common in remote or rural areas. But in most cities, they have come a long way since the 1980s and are no worse than those found in many other places in Asia.
I remember a visit to the Beilin Forest of Steles in Xian a couple of years ago, where the biggest surprise was the air-conditioned public rest-room with piped music and the sweet scent of sandalwood incense. Visitors could relax on the sofas placed at the entrance and the cleanliness of the place was worthy of a star-rated hotel.
Meanwhile, over in Hangzhou, we dined at a restaurant where the doors in the washroom cubicles even had a glass-panelled upper section through which users could comfortably watch television.
I have mentioned in a previous story the “green toilets” of Jiuzhaigou in Sichuan-–flush-free, waterless wonders designed to protect the ecology and maintain the pristine environment.
Completely lined with plastic sheets, they work by suction. Besides the fixed toilets, Jiuzhaigou National Park also has mobile vehicles outfitted with such amenities. Similarly the rest-rooms at Xiamen International Airport have seats enveloped in plastic that, at the touch of a button, rotate to offer the user a sanitised section.
Meanwhile, back in Beijing, with the Olympics due to begin next week it is reported that some 8,000 workers have been trained to maintain the public toilets, and citizens given instructions on their use.
Hopefully these dedicated efforts will continue to yield results long after the Games, and make a lasting positive impact on the sanitary habits of the citizens in other parts of the country.