Today on the Shinkansen train from Tokyo to Kyoto, I experienced the seminal travel moment of every major journey overseas: my first squat toilet of the trip. When the door opens and there it is, facing you like some giant sinkhole in the floor of the bathroom, there’s a moment of anxiety not unlike your annual colonoscopy – “Oh no. Not this again.”
I quickly faced my fear and assumed the position. This was not my first rodeo. In fact, “rodeo” isn’t a bad metaphor, because you’re straddled over a beast that may kill you unless you can hold on long enough. I’ll skip the graphic details, obviously, but here are some observations I made during my tenure at the Mouth of the Devil:
First, this is a delicate procedure, made only more delicate by this one being on a moving train. A moving high-speed Japanese “bullet train,” that is. That position is unkind enough while stationary, it’s another when there’s a constant sway and shifting speeds.
Second, I suggest you take your wallet out of your back pocket before doing this. Don’t get me wrong, there were no mishaps, but a constant fear stuck with me during the entire event, made worse by the fact that my hands were preoccupied holding onto stabilizing rails, and any release of my grip could spell disaster. But next time, I’ll take precautions.
Third, I’ve always thought I had strong leg muscles. Untrue. My quads and calves were barking about 30 seconds in, made only worse by the discomfort of my jeans clinging tightly to my knees and thighs. This is one of those positions they make you assume in Gitmo, and I was trying to assume this position while taking care of important matters.
Lastly, there is no room for error. Unlike the typical western toilet, where you’ve got a straight shot, in this case you’re hovering a good six inches to a foot over the target. What your looking for here is a surgical strike, because carpet bombing will be as messy here as it was in Dresden during “the big one.”
But there are some advantages:
1. Excellent core strength work-out, both legs and abs.
2. There’s no lingering. There will be no reading of Entertainment Weekly or the ingredients of the Lysol can under the sink, or checking your Facebook updates.
3. You really get to know yourself, because you’re very focused on your body and its multiple interdependent functions.
4. You’ll truly value your suede Adidas sneakers, now more than ever.
5. There’s a somewhat cool, breezy lightness to the whole affair that you don’t get often, like skinny-dipping, or going commando.
These are the observations I made during my brief, two-minute interaction with fate. As I write this and think back on the whole thing, I almost miss it. Almost…
werefinemom.com 
Maybe a publishing deal with you get back…
This is, quite possibly, the funniest bit of travel reporting I’ve ever read. Having grown up in Hong Kong in the 1970s – which meant learning how to straddle at a very early age – I appreciate your take on the experience.
Ok you win! Manuevering the “aim and shoot” process on a bullet train in Japan absolutely tops the concrete hole in the middle of the night in Uganda!
Eric’s previously suggested shoe mirrors could have enhanced the experience.