Adventures with Japanese Toilets.
Jul. 30th, 2009 07:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sechan19So, I was up at the Shaka Hall of Enryakuji's Saito (Western Pagoda Area), when my body let me know that I needed to use the restroom. I headed for the nearest one I could find, and discovered it to be equipped with Japanese style facilities only. (By this I mean: glorified holes in the ground.) No problem, really. I've always been able to handle Japanese style toilets (we called them Turkish toilets in Paris, for some reason that I have forgotten). As I was entering, a Buddhist nun from the Hall - whom I had previously been talking to - came in as well.
I went into the stall and began the tedious process of using a Japanese toilet. I always find it most convenient to slip out of one leg of my pants. I won't bother explaining why. At any rate, as I was slipping out of my pants leg, my cellphone slipped out of my pocket and KERPLONK straight into the toilet drain, which was uncovered and abyssal.
I was, frankly, flabbergasted at this turn of events. Involuntarily, I uttered a rather loud (and rather Japanese) exclamation of surprise and dismay that brought the Buddhist nun to my door quite quickly.
I explained the situation, and we attempted to retrieve the phone with a long pincher-like tool that was kept in a supply closet by the sink. We were not successful. The Buddhist nun was quite adamant that the situation was hopeless. I suggested that I try to reach into the drain and pull the phone out (as I had noticed that the drain curved at the bottom, making the tool somewhat useless), however she vetoed this most vehemently on the grounds that it was dirty.
I understand completely why she did this. The Japanese are perhaps the cleanest people in the world, and certainly the most conscientious about purity, and for centuries Buddhist priests and nuns have been employed (in part) to protect ordinary people from a variety of defilements. It was against her nature and her training to let me reach into a toilet in search of a mere material thing.
And yet, I really had to have that cellphone back (for the sim card, if nothing else - as I had heard a decisive splash of water when the phone fell and had calculated that it was probably done for already).
Nevertheless, I let her lead me back to the Shaka Hall, where she called a maintenance man and explained the situation to him. She then asked if there were any way of retrieving the phone. He - predictably - said there was not. In an amusing twist, she asked him to explain that to me personally. (I suspect she felt that she wasn't qualified to give me such final news.)
I thanked them both profusely for their kindness, and truly they were both very kind about the whole thing. It certainly was not either of their faults that I dropped my cellphone in the toilet. The Buddhist nun, in particular, really went above and beyond to do for me what she could. I hope that she didn't feel badly over it.
Particularly since I went straight from the Hall back to the toilet, where I preceded to do something no Japanese person ever could or would do:
I stuck my arm down the drain and got my cellphone back.
And believe me, it was far from the most pleasant experience of my life. But I had to have that phone, and I do not believe in defilements that cannot be cleaned up one way or another.
And...
...no one says impossible to me. Not even cute, kind, well-intentioned Buddhist nuns.
I have long, slender limbs and a will of iron.
The cellphone was done for - as I'd suspected - but I retrieved the sim card, which both enabled me to keep my phone number (and the fifty some-odd dollars I'd recently added) and facilitated my buying a newer, better model later that evening. I took myself a respectable distance away from the Shaka Hall before I dissolved into helpless laughter.
Because you have to laugh. It was the most improbable and hysterical situation - a definite highlight of the trip, I can assure you.
Toilets in Japan really are things of mystery and menace. Even the newer, Western ones are disconcerting. At my hostel here in Kyoto, the super-advanced bathrooms turn the lights on, lift the toilet seat, and begin a cleaning cycle the minute I open the door. They seem to be almost preternaturally aware. It's quite creepy, really.
I guess that sometimes you just can't win for losing. ;>
I went into the stall and began the tedious process of using a Japanese toilet. I always find it most convenient to slip out of one leg of my pants. I won't bother explaining why. At any rate, as I was slipping out of my pants leg, my cellphone slipped out of my pocket and KERPLONK straight into the toilet drain, which was uncovered and abyssal.
I was, frankly, flabbergasted at this turn of events. Involuntarily, I uttered a rather loud (and rather Japanese) exclamation of surprise and dismay that brought the Buddhist nun to my door quite quickly.
I explained the situation, and we attempted to retrieve the phone with a long pincher-like tool that was kept in a supply closet by the sink. We were not successful. The Buddhist nun was quite adamant that the situation was hopeless. I suggested that I try to reach into the drain and pull the phone out (as I had noticed that the drain curved at the bottom, making the tool somewhat useless), however she vetoed this most vehemently on the grounds that it was dirty.
I understand completely why she did this. The Japanese are perhaps the cleanest people in the world, and certainly the most conscientious about purity, and for centuries Buddhist priests and nuns have been employed (in part) to protect ordinary people from a variety of defilements. It was against her nature and her training to let me reach into a toilet in search of a mere material thing.
And yet, I really had to have that cellphone back (for the sim card, if nothing else - as I had heard a decisive splash of water when the phone fell and had calculated that it was probably done for already).
Nevertheless, I let her lead me back to the Shaka Hall, where she called a maintenance man and explained the situation to him. She then asked if there were any way of retrieving the phone. He - predictably - said there was not. In an amusing twist, she asked him to explain that to me personally. (I suspect she felt that she wasn't qualified to give me such final news.)
I thanked them both profusely for their kindness, and truly they were both very kind about the whole thing. It certainly was not either of their faults that I dropped my cellphone in the toilet. The Buddhist nun, in particular, really went above and beyond to do for me what she could. I hope that she didn't feel badly over it.
Particularly since I went straight from the Hall back to the toilet, where I preceded to do something no Japanese person ever could or would do:
I stuck my arm down the drain and got my cellphone back.
And believe me, it was far from the most pleasant experience of my life. But I had to have that phone, and I do not believe in defilements that cannot be cleaned up one way or another.
And...
...no one says impossible to me. Not even cute, kind, well-intentioned Buddhist nuns.
I have long, slender limbs and a will of iron.
The cellphone was done for - as I'd suspected - but I retrieved the sim card, which both enabled me to keep my phone number (and the fifty some-odd dollars I'd recently added) and facilitated my buying a newer, better model later that evening. I took myself a respectable distance away from the Shaka Hall before I dissolved into helpless laughter.
Because you have to laugh. It was the most improbable and hysterical situation - a definite highlight of the trip, I can assure you.
Toilets in Japan really are things of mystery and menace. Even the newer, Western ones are disconcerting. At my hostel here in Kyoto, the super-advanced bathrooms turn the lights on, lift the toilet seat, and begin a cleaning cycle the minute I open the door. They seem to be almost preternaturally aware. It's quite creepy, really.
I guess that sometimes you just can't win for losing. ;>
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no subject
Date: 2009-07-30 04:04 pm (UTC)Lengthy sento or shower adventures followed, I would assume (hope)?
no subject
Date: 2009-07-30 10:51 pm (UTC)And I washed all the way up my arms in the toilet there, too, before I left. And used my disinfectant gel (which I always carry with me).
Trust me, I did not undertake the endeavor lightly. ;>
But the drain itself was mostly dry. Only my hands and wrists got wet - right down at the bottom - and I managed to keep pretty clear of everything else. It could have been way worse.