a little coffee

Today I saw a grown woman, at least my grandmother’s age, drop trow and (try to) pee into a drain in the floor of a crowded, public lady’s toilet at the local Dennis. She had absolutely zero shame- as do so many kids I see pooping and peeing on the sidewalks, hardly hidden behind the trash bin. For a second, a turmoil raged inside me- my bladder about ready to explode and thorough disgust that a few droplets of someone else’s urine could have splattered my shoes.

I fled. 

Then doused my hands with hand sanitizer because I just felt dirty.

Within two minutes, I had promptly forgotten about this incident, getting caught up in the shopping fervor of downtown Anyang. The fact that I didn’t dwell on this might just mean I’m adapting to life here quite well when this, among other previously incomprehensible, unbelievable things phase me for only a second and then poof! It’s no more extraordinary than using a squat toilet or seeing Mongolian ponies pulling carts in the street.  

This is all good for my sanity.  Then I read about Japan and their fancy pants toilets and I remembered that we are all, actually, very different, I’m not adapting in the slightest and I want to give China the finger and run off to Japan where not only I can sit down to pee, but the lid will keep my tushy nice and toasty.  

Sigh…