Privacy matters

Toilets here, like everything else in Turkey are a study in diversity and contrasts.  Modern toilets are available in most hotels, restaraunts and malls, but traditional Turkish toilets still populate many public restrooms.  The modern restrooms are impeccable.  Each stall is normally outfitted with an automatic plastic seat cover that can be refreshed each time someone needs to use the loo.  A toilet brush sitting in a canister of disinfectant is discreetly placed in the corner of each stall, and all units are outfitted with a water jet for cleaning your posterior if you so choose.  There are automatic aroma machines to deodorize, individual trash receptacles, and occasionally TV screens in each stall!  The rooms are always attended, and I have yet to encounter anything gross or unkempt in my public use of these facilities.  However, as I have said before standardization is not high on the list of Turkish priorities.  Seldom have I have encountered a toilet that uses the same flushing mechanism.  Some flush by pushing a button, some require a pull chain.  Some are electric or heat sensitive, but most are manual.  The buttons, levers or pull chains can be located in a variety of clever hiding places.  I am often found standing awkwardly in a toilet stall trying to solve the mystery of how to flush the toilet, an embarrassing exercise that sometimes takes so long to complete that I fear Nabil will send in the cavalry to see what has happened to me.  The challenge is often compounded by trying to figure out how to operate the water faucets on the sinks, which also come in an endless variety of operating styles!

Bathroom anxiety is heightened when we travel off the beaten path, knowing that there is a high probability of encountering the more tradition Turkish squat toilet; a two foot square ceramic platform at ground level that borders a hole in the ground.  The expectation is that you will place your feet on the ridged sides of the platform, assume a standing squat position and somehow let go, hopefully with enough accuracy in aim that your effluents are steered directly into the central abyss of this unique invention.  Assuming that you have not dribbled on your panties or shoes ( a slim chance, as the challenge of balancing in a squat while holding your clothes askew in not a practiced art for those of us who have crossed the menopause threshold), tissues are provided for posterior clean-up.  These tissues are discarded in a plastic trash can., rather than down the rabbit hole.  There is usually a small bucket placed under a water faucet (again, have fun figuring out how to turn it off and on), which you fill and then pour over the ceramic platform and down the hole to clean up your droppings. The water from these buckets seldom stream directly into the hole, but instead flood the surrounding floor and usually spatter your shoes.  So even if you were lucky enough to avoid peeing on yourself, you will appear to have done so, because of this unique flushing mechanism!  A toilet brush is often available should the situation require more of a scrub than a swish, and as you might imagine, these stalls do not meet the sanitary standards of the aforementioned western bathrooms.  The possibility of having to use one of theses formidable personal care contraptions is enough to dissuade me from venturing too far afield, especially when my digestive system is on high alert!