01.31.08
Skiing and the Art of Chinese Toiletry
Last week I spent five days in Colorado for a good friend of mine’s bachelor party. Part of the bachelor party itinerary included a day of skiing. For those of you who have never enjoyed the sensation of downhill skiing, it is one of the most intense lower body workouts one can experience. First-time skiers often gripe that they use muscles that they never even knew they had, and a single day of skiing often leads to several days of soreness from the quads all the way down to the feet. The more one skies, the more their leg muscles gradually acclimate to the new positions and flexes that the sport demands. If one continues skiing throughout the season, the leg pains diminish to the point where they are hardly noticeable. But as soon as one takes an extended break from skiing, the pains and cramps start right back up again the next time they hit the slopes.
So for me it came as quite the pleasant surprise, when after a 4 year gap in skiing excursions, I completed my first day back on the mountain with my lower body feeling almost exactly as it had when I had woken up in the morning. To be honest, I was actually looking forward to the soreness, the feeling that my body was tired from the muscular workout, but it never happened. Usually the soreness of skiing doesn’t fully set in until the following morning, so I waited…and woke up the next morning…nothing. There was a slight soreness in my calves, but my quads (where the majority aching usually occurs) felt as if I had not even skied at all.
This was odd. Not only had I not skied in 4 years, but thanks to the Chicago winter, I had barely even exercised in the past 2 months. After pondering my lower body muscles’ sudden acclimation to extreme stress, I finally figured out the culprit…my Chinese toilet!
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A typical Chinese toilet…in this instance, the hole is submerged in toilet paper.
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Unlike the toilets common in the Western world where a toilet’s ergonomics are designed to represent those of a chair, a traditional Chinese toilet* is designed to represent a hole in the ground. Typically, the hole is at one end of a porcelain oval. The user squats over the oval, does their business, and then pushes a button that releases a stream of water which whisks the remnants down the hole. The most difficult aspect, however, is balancing oneself over the porcelain oval, which like skiing, requires one to use muscles they never knew they had—not to mention superb balancing skills, unless there is an available guardrail nearby.
When I lived in Fuqing from March 2004 until June 2005, all I had in my apartment was a Chinese toilet. Using it effectively was one of my greatest challenges upon originally moving to China. It wasn’t that I had any cultural or sanitary aversions to popping a squat, but rather that after 3 or 4 minutes of squatting over my new throne, my legs would give out. I was forced into timing my excretions so that I would enter the bathroom just before the impending droppage moment. I also had to relinquish my preconceived idea that my time in the bathroom should be relaxing. Rather than turning the pages of a magazine, my arms had now become balancing aids, and the limitations of my leg muscles no longer afforded me the time in the bathroom to finish reading the latest sports scores.
How did the Chinese do it? Why would any people design a toilet which was so physically demanding to use? The more I thought about it, the more incredulous I became. I knew from traveling and college anthropology classes that the squatty potty had been the default toilet for the majority of the world (not just China) throughout most of human history, and that it was probably a misnomer to refer to it as a “Chinese toilet” since it was Westerners who first began molding their porcelain goddesses in the image of a chair. Therefore, it would probably be more accurate to refer to our toilets as “Western toilets” and to my little porcelain oval as simply a “toilet.”
As I traveled around China, I noticed that Chinese squatting occurred in more arenas than just that of the bathroom. I would see Chinese workers spending their breaks squatting in the streets, reading the newspaper in squatting positions, playing cards in squatting positions, and on several instances even sleeping, leaned against a wall in a squatting position. How was it that they were able to relax in this position, one that I could barely even hold for 3 minutes, merely for the sake of carrying out one of nature’s most basic functions?
As the months wore on, I began to notice my legs were no longer giving out as quickly on me in the bathroom. The pain that I once felt in my quadriceps had diminished, and I found myself able to remain squatted over my porcelain oval for increasingly longer periods of time. My balance improved as well, and one day, during my first summer in Fuqing, I undertook the bold task of attempting to read the sports page of the China Daily while in a squat position over my Chinese toilet. With a little practice, and several near catastrophes, I was finally able to balance myself well enough and long enough to actually start enjoying my time in the bathroom again. As time passed, I was able to remain in the squatting position longer and longer, and not just on my toilet. I would squat when I had to pick something off of the ground, squat when chatting with the migrant workers around my building, and on several occasions even squat while eating street food when no tables were available. After a year and a half of daily squatty potty usage, I was able to remain in the squatting position for nearly an hour before my muscles would begin to cramp up.
Now fast forward back to my ski trip. Even though I have not used a Chinese toilet since August, it seems that the muscle I built up from squatting in China is still present in my lower body. Otherwise, I can think of no other possible medical explanation for my lack of soreness from my first day of intense skiing after a 4 year layover. This wouldn’t be the only benefit of defecating Chinese style, as squat toilets are generally more sanitary as well as easier on the colon than those in which one sits. But if it truly is my Chinese toilet which has led to my apparent increased lower muscular endurance, then maybe the U.S. ski team should adopt a policy of using only Chinese toilets.
*Thesedays most newer Chinese buildings are equipped with the same sit-down toilets found in the West
Stretch Mark Mama
said,
January 31, 2008 at 4:10 pm
Enjoyed that! Toilet stories are simply divine. Maybe that’s why they call it, “the throne.”
chriswaugh_bj
said,
January 31, 2008 at 10:16 pm
Those Vikings were really clever: They invented a way to train people to squat, and then sold it to the rest of the world as a sport!
Anonymous
said,
January 31, 2008 at 10:18 pm
You get too graphic, man:-)
I am not a native English speaker but what if instead of “Chinese toilet” say “squatter” and instead of “Chinese style” say “squating style”?
canrun
said,
February 1, 2008 at 3:51 am
Then if most of the developing world still uses the squat toilet, why is it only in China that one sees so many people squatting, well, everywhere?
Porter B.
said,
February 1, 2008 at 8:51 am
Many western visitors to China return to their home countries to regale their friends with tales of consternation/terror/confusion/humor related to their experience with “Chinese toilets.” The connection with skiing is a novel one.
I have seen western style toilets in China with shoe prints on the seats and I can only imagine the poor soul balancing on top wondering why westerns invented a toilet that was so physically demanding to use.
WiSaGaN
said,
February 2, 2008 at 4:54 am
I am a native Chinese. For me, it seems hard to understand that Western people are having so much trouble in using this. Maybe Chinese are trained from a very young age to use it, so Chinese don’t have problem doing this. And there are some design of this that includes some place for holding to keep balance, but mainly for elderly.
For me, the problem comes when I read book in that position. I sometimes focus too much on the book that I forget I should finish it. Then I end up not feeling my legs….
RedKemp
said,
February 2, 2008 at 4:09 pm
As I have said before, I much prefer the squat toilet in the public restroom setting. I do not like to place my ass where hundreds of other strangers have placed theirs. At home the the nice relaxing Western toilet is perfect, but when I’m on the go, I would rather use a squat toilet. Maybe I will start a letter writing campaign in the states…
michael
said,
February 2, 2008 at 11:09 pm
Like you, I have recently noticed that after 3 years in China I’ve become a squat toilet squatting champion. During my recent month-long gig in Qinghai, the toilet was the only place where I had a little privacy and some time to think. The food there also gave me the shits… so I noticed that I’d be sometimes squatting over the latrine for 15, 20 minutes with no real pain at all.
Now I’ve got to figure out some similar exercise for my lower back, and I’ll be skiing in no time.
Neddy
said,
February 5, 2008 at 2:51 am
“…since it was Westerners who first began molding their porcelain goddesses in the image of a chair.” is the bit I find intriguing! I suspect the “throne” idea of toilet is not exactly the fruit of modern West – I have seen its crude ancestors in some medieval castles around Europe. What we need here is a qualified sh*thouse historian to tell us more!
Jessica
said,
February 6, 2008 at 11:42 am
Hello! i’m actually writing my senior thesis about Fujianese migration, and found your blog to be particularly insightful (although I don’t know if I could cite you………) Anyway, I tried to send you an email at the yahoo address, but it bounced back. I would love very much to be able to talk to you about Fujianese migration (not toilets) — this summer I went to my father’s ancestral village in a village in Fuqing and we learned that all the able-bodied migrants had upped and left for such destinations as Lesotho, South Africa, Nigeria, and Argentina. Instead of working in restaurants, they all became shop owners. So I guess if you go to a less prestigious country, then you can get a more prestigious job. SAVVY!!!! Anyway, I’ll let you know more, if you’re interested —- please email me!
Jess
Anqi Dai
said,
February 7, 2008 at 11:45 pm
Ben,
It is always fun to read your articles.
Maybe you can put together a book about your experience in China someday.
Always looking forward to reading the next one!
Anqi Dai from Kansas City ,Missouri
Paul
said,
February 8, 2008 at 10:44 am
I have noticed that as well. But hey, I can even squat on a banister while reading the papers. How’s that for a balancing act?
Sherry
said,
February 27, 2008 at 9:31 pm
Hey,
Laugh out loud, thanks for keeping me amused & amazed.
I don’t have the vaguest idea of this cultural discrepancy that might possibly occur in the toiletary habits untile having perusing your article, well, what should I say, Bravo!!!
Keep an eye on daily “trivial” stuff, then you would be handsomely rewarded, it is your motto, isn’t it?
Odd yet fancy.
Sherry
Jet So
said,
February 29, 2008 at 7:53 pm
Squat toilets are used throughout the Far East – not just China. I’ve only have two words on “nature’s call” in the Orient: 冲啊！
johnson
said,
March 8, 2008 at 11:26 pm
Sorry to be pedantic… But these squat toilets are definitely not restricted to being used in china only. I’ve always known them as “turkish toilets”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Turkish_toilet)
One more pick (i am on a roll with this) with your title – Chinese Toiletry would imply chinese toothbrushes and shampoos, not toilets.
Okay i am done. I’ve enjoyed your blog tremendously! cheers.
Jay
said,
June 12, 2008 at 1:58 pm
I don’t know if someone said this already (didn’t read all the comments) but I heard something about native Chinese people view sit-down toilets as unsanitary because we all put our rears on the same bowl.
Anyway, I’ll be heading to Wenzhou City this August/September. My first time in another country… I know a little Mandarin, but this will be a VERY interesting chapter in my life. I love your blog though, entertaining and informative. It calms my nerves a bit.
But, I must admit when I read the “Haa-low!” thing, I got a little nervous that I would encounter some restless/racist natives and have a hard time… but the other blogs just gave me a good laugh.