Everybody Poops

The WC AKA, the Water Closet

When Ya Gotta Go...

In French, toilette is feminine but the lingua franca word WC, or water closet is masculine in French.  In Spanish, bathrooms of all types seem to be masculine.  In Dutch, I believe WCs have gender (as opposed to not having gender) period.

Why am i subjecting your Puritan ears to talk of porcelain?  Everybody poops.  Actually, there is more to the subject that that.  ‘WC’ is a term devised so anyone from anywhere can recognize where to go.  Oddly, toilette always seems to work as well.  Perhaps Napoleon, like introducing the metric system, introduced the term ‘toilette’, and since the Brits are leaving the EU, adios to the term ‘WC’.

Why am I harping on bodily functions?  I’m told this is quite rude to do in French culture.  If you recall, I described the pissoir, an outdoor urinal, earlier.  Oddly, the Dutch still have a problem with wild pissing; whipping it out anywhere--including our old mail slot.  I thought about it in Venice but there are no quiet alleys.  You can be noticed from any angle. How to do you scream PERVERT in Italian.  I’m sure they have a word for it.

If you need a bathroom book (ironic) and are travelling to Holland, you should buy yourself a copy of The Undutchables.  It describes all the bizarre, frustrating, and downright lovable things about the Dutch.  I believe there is an entire chapter devoted to using a toilet.  Common ways to use the device include, pulling a cord up high or low, lifting a knob on the tank, pushing a small or large button on top of the toilette.  Pushing a panel on the wall.  And if you are lucky, the (traditional) American-thingy-on the side.  Our great friends, Tim and Peter, have a fabulous house with a fashionable bathroom.  You go to home depot and the choices of toilet seats are long or short, expensive or cheap, and perhaps a color.  Toilets I recall in the States can be white, white, white, off white, goldenrod, avocado, black, and our favorites, red and mushroom.  We had a mushroom colored toilet when we moved into our house.  Lord that color was hideous.  Fortunately, we broke the toilet (don’t ask) and the landlord replaced it with a white toilet from Big Lots and a seat from The Dollar Tree.  Anyways, our friends in Amsterdam opted for a square toilet.  It is chic and tres modern.  Pretty cool place to hold court, huh?  At some point, the cat broke the seat.  Square seats are not exactly ‘off the rack’.  I think it might cost more than a few kilos of cheese, pairs of wooden shoes, or tulips to find and replace one.

Why would I bring up such a personal subject? We are currently in Belgium.  Our host has a fashionable round toilet.  Same problem. Where do you exactly find a round seat for a Phillipe Starck designer toilet?  Mon Dieu.  I can only imagine how much lace, chocolate, and mussels he will forgo to replace the seat.

In Ravenna, we had a bidet and a room made for Leave It to Beaver or I love Lucy.  The room had two single beds to prevent any premarital hanky panky or cool off married lovers for a night.  At our stop in Ancona, we decided to eat at a sandwich shop before it was time to board The Love Boat. The bathroom had a standard toilet but no toilet paper.  Now I’m a seasoned traveler but the community spray-your-ass hose was a bit off putting if not downright disturbing.  Prissy Americans.  In one bathroom in Croatia, I found a squatting Turkish toilet that flushed.  How civilized. Turkish toilets are generally characterized by plates to denote where to  place your feet and good aim.

Unlike America, it is common to pay for a bathroom in Europe.  Carry change.  Prices and participation may vary.  Prices in Iceland and Finland may be higher.  At the Brussels North Station (le dump de train stations), there was an old lady collecting money but certainly not cleaning anything.  It brought back fond memories of the pissoir in Amsterdam for the cost of 50 Euro cents.  The smell was positively intoxicating.

In large American cities, you pretend to be interested in spending time in a cafe, use the bathroom, and then bolt.  The bathroom costs 2 cups of coffee and a danish.  In Amsterdam it makes sense to use the words, “I’ll pay ya!”, or do the danish thing.  Maneuvering the most common of daily rituals can be a thing in Europe.  On an bad day it can even be a little too exciting.  Isn’t going part of the adventure?