“Time for a smile.” If you think that is an encouragement similar to “put on a happy face,” think again. That was the phrase used by an Irish tour guide leading our group through the Alps several years ago. As we bused from place to place, these words were his euphemistic way of informing us that the next stop had restroom facilities. No doubt, after a couple of hours of riding, those stops did make a few of us smile.
Over time I’ve observed that most guides search for a way to mention the unmentionable without actually mentioning it. “Time for a coffee” was the phrase of choice by the group leader in Scandinavia. “Coffee in, coffee out” was another. I have no idea why that practice seems necessary – which by the way, was another reference. “OK, ladies and gentlemen. At this next stop you’ll find the necessary rooms inside the building, in the back corner along the righthand side.” Another fearless leader preferred to call it “the pause that refreshes,” which frankly was a little confusing the first time or two, as I was expecting to be served Coca Cola.
Like “lather, rinse, repeat” or “pull tab and pour,” you would think peeing only required simple instructions, if any. Judging from the signage in certain toilet stalls, you’d be wrong. Squatters need directions on how to properly sit on a Western toilet. Apparently it isn’t obvious that feet go on the floor, not on the seat itself. And for whatever reason, there seems to be a tendency to face the back of the stall rather than the front. To be fair, some westerners need guidance on how to stand over the squat toilet used in some parts of the world. I must confess my first impulse was to stand opposite the way the sign illustrated. Most complicated may be the seats we first experienced in Japan. Toilet seats there talked to us, which was a first for me. Since it was in a language I didn’t understand, for all I knew it could have been providing my weight or announcing “Time’s up, bub!” The attached control panel could set off any number of activities, most of which catch you by surprise the first time or two. From heated seats to water to music to warm air, it was pretty much the equivalent of sending your vehicle through an automated car wash.
Over the years, I have relieved myself in a lot of places. Some were elegant, with tile, heated seats, and attendants who seemed to think patrons weren’t capable of turning on the water or securing their own hand towels. Others were dirty, dingy, and smelly, which at least encourages the line to move along. Some were, well, in the great outdoors. Like in a little village in India where a flat tire to the bus created a prolonged stay. There were no public facilities, but there was an overgrown field by the side of the road. So, men and women alike found growth tall enough to satisfy their privacy standards and preserve their modesty. By the time the tire was replaced, we had all enjoyed a Coca Cola moment.
The biggest adjustment in these great toilet adventures isn’t style. It is that some places charge money to use them. I can appreciate the decision. After all, water and supplies are not free. Custodial personnel need to earn a living. Still, people, myself included, are routinely put off at having to pay to pee. Or even worse, to have three or four squares of paper rationed out for use as you enter (as though that is ever enough!). In fact, in one country the signage read “Dear Guests, Please use the toilet paper to the last minute. It helps us conserve resources.” It would have been helpful if they described how exactly to determine when the last minute was up.
I have observed a near universal resistance to paying a charge for the right to smile. For one, we don’t do it that way in the U.S., at least in most places. Oh, I can remember a few coin operated stalls, as a child, and even trying to crawl under them rather than cough up a dime. Fortunately that trend didn’t last, at least around these parts. Fast food chains, gas stations, convenience stores, even rest stops on major highways constructed solely for that purpose, accommodate patrons and travelers as part of the cost of doing business. We expect the price to be included. Two, I seldom carry loose change in my pocket, especially not foreign coins. So, I need to find change – which is never fun when you have to go. Once when I didn’t even have a penny, no attendant was present. So, I entered the restroom and smiled free of charge. As I departed down the sidewalk toward our bus, I had a flashback to the 1985 John Cusack movie “Better Off Dead” scene where the paperboy chases a delinquent customer, shouting “$2! $2! Give me my $2.” That may have been the only English this attendant spoke, but the point was made. Fortunately, she had change.
More than once, I have traveled with individuals who scoff at the notion and choose to remain in discomfort rather than pay the asking price. “I’ll wait,” they announce upon learning there is an admission charge. Mind you, they have no idea when the next time for a smile will occur or if it will be free of charge; but there are a few things some people won’t pay for on sheer principle.
With my fellow travelers, it is clearly not a matter of being unable to afford the cost. It is more a refusal to cross the line, as though some great shame will be brought to the family name if they pay the asking price. Or they can’t bear to spend 50 cents more out of their children’s inheritance. If this is a test of wills, beware – just like the house in a Vegas casino, eventually the bladder always wins.
In the end, I guess it boils down to principles. Principles do us the great service of identifying what is important and helping to construct practices that manifest and preserve the things that matter. But when held uncompromisingly at all costs, they can surely cause moments of discomfort, some of which are unnecessary and even unreasonable. I think disagreements based on impulse are easier to back down from than those based on principle. With the former, once the first wave of resistance passes, we can rationalize our way out of the predicament, saving face in the process. With the latter, we carry the weight of a time-tested wisdom of our tribe that nearly forbids us to violate those deeply held convictions, even if we don’t know why they are held in the first place and can’t explain why they matter. We just know, we are not giving in.
A bit of discomfort from time to time can be useful. In our squirming to cope with the moment, we learn something new or have our view of the world broadened. But here is the thing. Some things are necessary. They’ve always been necessary even if dealt with differently. Or perhaps there are things necessary now that weren’t part of the equation when the principle was first formulated. So now what? Sometimes, it is best to keep a little change in your pocket, cough up the asking price, and take time for a smile.
I could tell you more, but I have an increasing sense that it is time to go . . .
