We had crossed into northern Italy. Even though we were barely an hour out of Geneva I was relieved when Bob pulled into the first roadside facility we found. Inside, at first glance, it looked like any other public toilet: stalls lined the wall, separating the women’s side from the men’s. But that’s all that separated the two sides. I had an unobstructed view of the urinals. I snorted to suppress a laugh. But there were more surprises. The bathroom stalls had no toilet bowls. Instead there were hand rails on the walls and a hole in the floor lined in porcelain. It didn’t take long for me to figure out what I was supposed to do. These were what the guys had called squatters. Bob warned me this was what I should expect once we hit Asia. I didn’t expect it in Italy. “Get your leg muscles in shape,” he’d advised. “You don’t want to be losing your balance.”
There were hand rails, how hard can it be?Then I realized, I had a choice to make. I could use the hand rails and steady my squat, or I could forgo the rails and hold up my skirt to keep it off the floor (I now questioned the practicality of the long flowy skirt). I couldn’t do both. I ended up lifting my skirt hem and tucking it into my waistband as best I could and held tightly to the hand rails.
“Did you know there were no toilet bowls in there?” I asked Bob, when I got back to the van.
“Already? I didn’t think we’d see a squatter before we reached Greece.”
“There was no wall between the two sides either.” It was like sneaking a peek into the boy’s bathroom as a little girl. “Did you know that’s how the bathrooms were?”
“Did you look?” he said, laughing and wagging his eyebrows.
“Of course not. Well, maybe a little. The urinalwasin full view,” I grabbed his arm, my eyes wide, and my voice raised an octave or two, “didn’t you notice?”
“Here come the guys let’s see what they have to say. None of us have been to Italy before. It’s all new to us too.”
Aaron and Carlos were as mystified as I was by the early appearance of the squatters. In fact, as soon as they were in the van Aaron started grumbling and digging through his bag until he pulled out a pair of clean jeans. “A little warning about that would have been helpful, buddy,” We all tried to stifle a laugh. “Not funny! Look away Gail, unless you’re ready to see a real man.” I guess Aaron needed to work on his leg muscles too.
“I didn’t know,” Bob said, now roaring with laughter and pleading total ignorance. “But let this be a warning, the toilets will only get worse from here. Somewhere in Turkey the hand rails disappear.” I gave him a worried look. “You’ll be fine. Just practice those squats or suffer Aaron’s fate.” It was a cautionary warning we all took to heart. I rolled my eyes, grabbed my map, and resolved to get more exercise.
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