Dwar il-kamra l-baxxa

Health and safety hazard:

Dear reader, if you fall in one or more of these categories: are easily disgusted by mention and/or description of bodily waste; have eaten recently/intend to eat shortly; are not interested whatsoever in matters related to my excretion practices; then I suggest you close this window and proceed with some other fruitful Internet browsing. Otherwise, read on, but you have been warned....

I excuse myself with the non-Maltese readers for putting a Maltese title for this post, but I simply could not think of an English equivalent: "il-kamra l-baxxa" is the polite way for us Maltese to refer to the wo/men's toilet room...I know, there is lavatory, restroom but I do not think they actually have the same effect (and, by the way, the prefix "dwar" in the title is simply a word meaning "concerning". Thus, this post is, quite frankly, concerned with the toilet). The literal translation of "il-kamra l-baxxa" would be "the low room", a label whose origin I am not totally sure of: it is either related to the fact that, in the past, the toilet was apparently placed in a low-roofed room (which does not make sense since you would want a higher floor-to-ceiling height to ease with fume diffusion, if you know what I mean, but maybe that is too much of an architect's view, or else it is a title given to the room which deserves to be at the lowest in the hierarchy of importance within a dwelling, which I totally believe is not the case, since this room is actually quite vital, as this post will illustrate...

In my first science lessons back in the first year of secondary school, my science teacher taught me that, for an organism to be classified as "alive", it must exhibit 7 vital functions, one of which is precisely that of excretion. Thus, I very strongly believe that there is nothing wrong and/or disgusting with me talking about this subject since the lack of it would imply that I am not alive! However, for the vast majority of my life, I have been very reluctant in exhibiting this vital sign when I am out of home. Let me rephrase: I have been very uncomfortable relieving my digestive tract from solid waste when I am out of home (fluids are quite easy in the case of men, even when the necessary toilet-ware is not present - a tree, corner or wherever will do, provided public decency is respected!) But then the notion of having to sit down for any period ranging from a few seconds to a couple of minutes on a public toilet has always troubled me. Until I stepped into the real world...

Once I started working in the industry, for 8 hour long days, it would have been a masochistic practice to refrain from getting rid of body waste whenever this was necessary during working hours. Thus, I had to let go - well, quite literally - and get used to the idea of using a toilet which is not within my home. There was one catch: in all offices I worked, there was always a single men's toilet, which meant that I would be in a sanctuary of solitude where all my affairs are done in full privacy with no interference from third parties. So far, so good. This was actually good practice for my time in London when, again, at 2000km away from home, I had no choice but to get used to using "stranger" toilets. Once more, I had an ensuite bathroom and shared a room with a very considerate room mate; we had out-of-phase WC-using habits and this proved to be very convenient. Bliss. Until a few months ago, I moved back to London, where I had to get used to the fantastic notion of shared WCs and 8 hour long days at Imperial where, unlike the small scale offices I was used to, had many WCs in a single room to cater for several dozen men!

Scenario: early on during the day, the abdominal urge for freedom increases exponentially with time and I have to go...well, I do, only to find that, in an adjacent cubicle, there is someone else. I go in, lock myself and sit. I twist and turn, awaiting the moment when my neighbour decides to get it over and done with, leaves the room and leaves me in the peace and quiet I need to do my job. Across the partition, I hear the hustle of a newspaper. "God! Why won't he hurry up and read it on the Tube instead!" I feel completely uncomfortable with the very thought of doing it when I know there is someone else next to me less than a metre away, reading a newspaper! But other people seem not to be bothered. The noise of paper is suddenly accompanied by a sharp release of body-induced gas, as if my presence is completely non-existent. I would not even dream of doing that! But apparently others simply cannot be bothered! At long last the moment arrives when he has read enough and flushes. The noise of flushing water is enough to disguise my own initial relief which, by now, has reached an intolerable limit and is past the point of no return.

A similar incident happened then in my hall of residence, only that this time the roles were reversed. I was in my cubicle first, peacefully having my daily dose of The Evening Standard Sudoku, when someone walked into the room. The dude politely sat down in his cubicle and sat there quietly waiting for me to make my move. Only that I was still not completely satisfied yet and, besides, this particular puzzle was quite challenging and wanted to finish it then! The delay was lengthy enough for that guy to pull up his trousers, leave the room and seek an alternative restroom! So at least this one had the decency not to do it when he knew someone else was in the room!

These are some of the incidents which on an almost daily basis I have to face. To date, I still cannot fathom the idea of how I can use the WC in #2 mode when I am not alone in the room. Perhaps that will be the next step...fully letting go and do-what-you-have-to-do, irrespective of whether I am alone or not! But I find that utterly disgusting! However, thinking about it, perhaps it is not that uncivilised after all. The Romans, who were the most cultured and civilised people of their time, had communal toilets, where men sat (stark naked) in a circle, sitting down next to each other, with no dividing partitions, and did their thing quite openly. I know this is how they did it since I actually have been to a number of Roman ruins and sat on some of these public toilet things...fully clothed and just to take a picture and not have a go, of course (see above). Mmmm, perhaps it is not that bad after all!