“The Toilet Paper Episode”, or, “Why wasn’t I told about this? This seems like more then a trivial detail...” or, “Ways in Which Office Depot Never Anticipated Their Paper Being Used”

Dear Reader

I really miss American toilets. The fresh smells, the cleanliness, the soap, the cold OR hot water, the sanitary supplies in the stalls, the places to hang your coat, locks that work... TOILET PAPER.

Being in a foreign country is like walking through a minefield. Except, nobody bothers to tell you you’re walking through a mind field until AFTER you’ve stepped on a mine. “You did what? Offended our entire cultural identity, history and everything we cherish and hold dear?”

“Yes, thank you, very helpful now that I already know...”

This particular part of the “Cultural Minefield”, I’ll call it, has to do with bathrooms, toilets, the John, the Head, the Pot, whatever you want to call it.

So remember how I mentioned that I was having a lot of fun with Kazakh food but that Kazakh food was having even more fun with me? Well, one day, while at work, my guts started singing and complaining to me and I was struck with the thought that I might just shit my pants right then and there. And you know it’s really bad when you don’t even care if that happens!

Normally, if this urge struck me in my home country, I’d find a toilet, do my business and be done, no one being the wiser. In this case, I found the mens toilet to be locked. Apparently the cleaning lady doesn’t like work as much as me and refuses to open the mens room unless I see her and beg her to, and of course, she was nowhere to be found in this particular instance. She says it’s “Shameful how dirty it is,” And if I spoke Russian I’d say, "Единственное, что является позорным является то, что вы позволили получить, что ванная комната грязная, в первую очередь!" Sometimes it’s better that I don’t speak Russian. (And sometimes my greatest accomplishment of the day is simply keeping my mouth shut in the first place! Hah!)

Nonetheless, here I was, ready to blow-ass from whatever greasy, oily dish I’d unwittingly consumed before and as I barged into the women’s bathroom, finding a dirty little squat toilet (okay, no problem, done this before), also found that there was no toilet paper. I’d stepped on a cultural mine with my pants down, so to speak.

I ran back to the office of the English school I’ve been volunteering at and asked my male coworker, “Aidos-where is toilet paper around here? Do you have any?” Of course expecting the answer to be “No.”

“No, I don’t have any,” he said. “But there’s a shop in that direction where they might have some,” He added, gesturing wildly in 360-degrees of direction-giving. "Usually no toilet in Kazakhstan has toilet paper or anything in it. Not really like America..." He said wistfully, as if remembering a time from an innocent childhood while frolicking by the riverside...

“Okay, great thanks.” I added as I tried to think quickly of a Plan B; obviously there was no time to go find a hypothetical store that may or may not have had what I needed.

Although there was something that did have what I needed; a pad of office paper I’d brought with me from the US. Some kind of legal lined, Office Depot general use paper. “Well,” I thought, “This is about as general as it gets!” And tore off five or six sheets (better to have too much then too little in a situation like this!)

Listen up, North Americans/Europeans/people akin to my upbringing everywhere; toilet paper is AWESOME. Never leave home without it, especially if you go somewhere that’s not your home.

I don’t care what anyone says about squatting and shitting–it’s uncomfortable as hell! I feel like my quads get the ultimate work out and balancing takes as much effort as walking up a flight of stairs. Forget rectal alignment, I’d rather just relax for 20 or 30 minutes on a sit toilet, maybe just take a nap for a while if the stall is small enough.

Anyway, now you know as much about my gastrointestinal-Jihads as my coworkers do, and they know basically everything about it by now.

Enjoy your toilet paper. Speak soon.

-e