Whenever I travel in developing countries, I come face to face with my western attachment to personal hygiene. My childhood days of once or twice a week baths are long behind me, and I have been quite happy to shower every evening for the last twenty years. Here in China, if I am lucky I can bathe daily, but the cleansing conditions are quite varient, something I am always loathe to accept.
For the most part, there are no bathtubs or shower stalls. Instead, a lone nozzle hovers, semi-attached to the gritty tile, mere feet away from the toilet. A single drain, usually miles away from the nozzle, attempts to collect the portion of the water that runs towards it, leaving the rest of the liquid to create a cesspool-like space in the opposite corner.
Showering is like walking a tightrope. One must never place one’s feet near the polluted corner, yet the standing space available beyond that is often limited to a few square inches. Often on tiptoe, somehow believing that I can somehow remain cleaner if my heels are spared, I dance in a square foot of safety.
The results of this experience is that you never really feel clean when you’re staying in hostels. You get used to being dirty and come to some sort of terms with it, accepting less and often surprising yourself with your pleasure at simple hygiene opportunities.
You mean you have actual hand soap in the restaurant bathroom? Score. A squat toilet with walls and a door? Today is a lucky day.
It’s all a matter of perspective, isn’t it?
Taking what I can get, the little things mean more. Only having left Taiwan a week ago, it already feels like months and my “old life” feels unrecognizable. You say that there was a time where I could eat fresh vegetables after a quick tap water rinse? A time back in the States where I could drink water straight out of the tap? Surely these experiences are legend, something I imbibed from a past life.
When you travel, it Is best to expect nothing to work out. When something does, you are pleasantly surprised, and it is difficult for anything to really stress you out. When you buy a bus ticket, like I did here in Dali, expect that the van won’t actually come to pick you up and you will have to figure out a way to get to the bus station. When you get to the bus station, expect the bus to be very late, incredibly crowded, and filled with smoking, spitting Chinese men. When it shows up only 15 minutes late, has a semblance of air conditioning, and the men are only hacking instead of spitting, you are quite pleased.
I am reminded of the comedian, Louis CK’s sketch called something like, “Everything’s awesome and nobody’s happy.” He relates a story about his recent flight cross-country. The airplane he was on provided wireless and the man sitting next to him pulled out his laptop. About 10 minutes later, an announcement came: the crew greatly apologized, but the wireless was temporarily defunct. The man next to Louis yelled out something like, “Dammit! They say they have wireless and this freakin’ doesn’t work.” Louis was thinking, Jesus, man. What do we have to be unhappy about? We’re on an airplane in the sky! We should all be sitting here amazed thinking, oh my God, I’m in a chair in the sky! I am part of the miracle of flight!
a great view in Tiger Leaping Gorge
When something doesn’t go right in my travels, I always have to remind myself of just how amazing it all is that I’m able to procure the money to do this, to be living at a time when transportation can get me to these places, and to have the good health to be able to get out and see these astounding places.
This gratefulness often takes quite a bit of work in daily life – it is easier to be grateful for the small stuff when you travel. Grateful for a shower that drains, thankful for food that doesn’t make you sick, appreciative of good digestion and strong legs. So, after something doesn’t go according to my travel plan, after I often get angry or frustrated, I eventually come back to, cheesy as it may sound, being grateful to be alive and exactly where I am.
Grateful even when I’m squatting over a cement river of urine and waste, sans walls, out there for anyone, none of whom cares, to see.
an open squat toilet in Dali, Yunnan province
2 Comments
July 23, 2009 at 8:37 pm
Nellie, this cracked me up and inspired me all at once. You are such a good writer.
July 23, 2009 at 8:38 pm
Also: maybe shower before we hang out? I will try to do the same. No promises.