One day, I realized that we had had three experiences that would go together nicely in the blog. Potty issues are one topic that just can't be skipped in China. Sorry but I just can't resist. So here it goes:
Chapter 1. Plunger Skills.
In China, the most commonly encountered toilet type is the Chinese style toilet. It is a porcelain or stone or other material formed basin in the floor that has textured areas on which to place your feet at each side. There are no hand rails in the stall. One squats over the structure to use it. There is a drain at the base of the shallow long basin. There may or may not be water running through. On the train, there is a large bucket of water in the corner for use if the rinsing pipe is out of order. The drain on the train pours directly onto the tracks. There may or may not be a flushing mechanism. There may or may not be toilet paper available but everyone carries some for personal use. However, you are usually expected to place paper products, including your toilet paper, into the provided wastebasket.
Western style toilets are also sometimes available. Again, you are to put your paper in the basket because the sewer system can't handle the toilets.
One day, while we were in Guilin, we mentioned to the front desk person that the Western style toilet in our 3rd floor room was clogged and that this would need to be managed while we were out on our Li River Cruise. Daisy, our sweet front desk person 12 hours into her 24 hour shift said she would take care of it. I don't want to name names but let's just say that a certain lady brought along her thick American quad-ply cushy toilet paper and someone from that room forgot about the requisite tiny wastebasket deposit for paper.
We returned from our wonderful cultural experience and tours to find that the toilet was still clogged. I asked Daisy about it and she didn't understand the problem. She asked, "May I see it?". "I don't think you really want to, " I replied. "It's terrible. But, Okay.". She marched up the stairs with me, opened the lid and tried to flush it before I could stop her. Let's just say that terrible became hideous. She ran straight down the stairs and said she would get someone to help.
I went back to my room on the second floor. As I was getting things organized, I heard the sound of a young man retching intensely while running down the stairs and onto my landing. I thought, "please don't tell me that was the person who came to help.". Hopefully, it's a joke.
As it turns out, it was quite a circus. Mom said that two young men ("teenagers"- was the direct quote) came up to "see" the problem. Not only had they no idea where to get a plunger, but when they came back with an old brittle one, they proceeded to make a mess of the previously pristine bathroom. Then one of them started to lose his lunch and ran down the stairs while Mom worked diligently to teach the finer arts of successful and sanitary toilet plunging. The American-style paper was retired from use. Back to the single ply...
2. The Importance of the Second Half of Directions
I have been having a great time learning to use whatever bits of Mandarin I can pick up. I learned early on in my travels as a child that it is best just to be brave and to try. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.
We were at the beautiful Seven Star Park in Guilin and our driver Mr. Li, who doesn't speak English, was taking us to see the pandas while our friend Lulu took a nap in the car. She was touring us around after completing her 24 hour shift in the hotel and hadn't slept because a person needed his laundry done before his flight out. Normally, she is able to nap a bit at night.
We had a lovely tour of the park and saw the waterfall, Camel Hill, a beautiful bridge and then took a huge circuit to what was supposed to be the Giant Panda Mansion. As we went around, Mom and the boys started to tire out and were really only going along to get to the panda siting. However, at the end of our circuit, Mr. Li was shocked to find that we had made it the whole way without finding any Pandas. While he worked to discuss this dilemma with park employees, the boys had tasty ice cream treats and mom had a rest.
Finally, after two long discussions, it was determined that the zoo itself was actually a separate entity and we had passed its entranced before we entered the park. By that time, Mom was wiped out and Mr. Li took her back to the van to rest. Thom and the boys and I ventured into the zoo. It required a separate entranced fee and there was not a touring soul to be found unlike the Park which was full of people enjoying the day.
Dec had already expressed the need for a bathroom. An urgent need and hope for a place to sit and do his business. Usually, the parks are very well labelled and this zoo was no different. There were many signs pointing the way to all the sites but not a one listed the bathroom. Not one. We went on and on looking for a bathroom. The search for the Pandas was replaced for the search for a place to have a poo. Finally, we came upon a work crew placing sod. I asked politely for the bathroom. He explained and used lots of arm waving to point way across some sort of diagonal, that went through all kinds to spaces and structures. Oh goodness. When I learned to ask for the bathroom, I neglected to learn the possible responses. At east I got the gist of the pointing and waving. "That way," I told my poor desperate child as we continued to walk faster and deeper into the zoo.
We did find the bathroom finally. It was in the farthest away corner of the zoo. Where were the signs? 10 feet from the bathroom. Maybe 20 feet if your want to be really generous. By the time we got there, Dec decided he didn't even need it and Quin was now in dire need to go number two. The only Western style toilet was in a special room open to the air in which the cleaning lady had a faucet for her hose to use to spray down the stalls. Dec and I hung out outside while Thom stood in the room with Quin. The washer woman in her full face mask and plastic wrapped legs stepped into the room, looked at Quin on the pot, and then went about her business turning on the hose, and left without comment. Oh, and did I mention that Nana was the one with the TP in her purse? Poor kid got to use hand sanitizer wipes because we had no other supplies with us.
Oh, yes, and the pandas were cute. Sad though as there are so few in the wild. But definitely special.
3. Yak Poo.
After our Li River Cruise, we took an add-on tour. I wrote about it previously. When we went to the Ulong (not Wulong) Village and took the bamboo raft down the tiny clear river, we were allowed to get out and feed some water buffalo. The farmers had them there with stacks of long grass of some sort for the kids to feed to the adult animals. At first, we had a problem with an unruly little boy (not our child) spraying a water buffalo full-on in the face with a big water sprayer. With that family, we were treated to a prime demonstration of how some Chinese parents fail to correct or reprimand poor behavior choices when they only have one child. That was the explanation our guide gave for why the kids in that group were so miserable to be around and why their antics went unchecked. I do have to say, though, that they were in the minority and that most children have been absolutely lovely to us and the kids.
Anyway, I digress. We did get to feed the buffalo. But then there was one of those moments when you see your child just far enough away from you at you know that you are not going to get there in time and that an event that you would like to prevent is about to happen. Dec was just on the other side of a small riverside pond filled with thick red-brown goo and I could see the sloping edge and how close he was to it. I just knew he was about to go in. As he slipped, I grabbed. Only his entire shoe and lower leg landed in the muck. Then he stepped out and onto my previously white Nikes. I say previously because they are now sort of giraffe patterned.
I then had the pleasure of sitting at the edge of the bamboo raft and scrubbing shoes, socks, and the hem of pants just like all the women we had passed on the river doing a bit of laundry. The river was cool, clear, and refreshing and just the right antidote to a big dose of yak poo. I had to be grateful that I wasn't scrubbing down the whole boy. Gotta love the small miracles.
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