How To Use A Japanese Space Toilet
Only in Japan would the most disgusting thing a human being does be taken to futuristic and enjoyable tiers. You never forget your first experience either—the few seconds spent standing there pre-business, staring at the robotic panel with any number of options, sounds, temperature levels and even intensity—and for any involved who didn’t grow up with them, a Japanese Toilet can be confusing, disorientating and even intimidating.
But it goes beyond just the design. Japanese Toilet Culture is a very big thing. A very real thing. In fact, director Win Wenders’ (Wings of Desire, Paris, Texas, Buena Vista Social Club) new film—of which a friend of mine is working on right now, but that’s all I’m allowed to say—is on this very topic, along with the architectural movement therein. It’s called “Perfect Day” and it already generating buzz for its appearance at Cannes 2024.
But the toilet subculture is everywhere.
The 9 minute 52 second song “God of Toilet” has 27 million views. See-through toilets see to be all the rage.
And one toilet cleaner has achieved near rock-star status.
Add to that, three very well-known toilet ghosts you’ll need to become acquainted with—especially if one of them asks you if you happen to know where her legs are (a wrong answer usually results in her cutting off your own.) Along with she is also Kappa, a toilet monster that can be repelled only by, well… Google.
File all under: Japan.
And, as mentioned, it can be dizzying.
Fortunately, your humble narrator has been living in a tent and sleeping in parks, so plenty of public toilet research went into this piece.
To start, all bathrooms are huge. The Japanese respect of negative space is famous, and it is rare that you won’t have a large room to relax in. Walk in, lock the door, take off your jacket and hang both that and your bag on the door (there will usually be numerous hooks).
Should you be in Japan anywhere during the autumn or winter season, the seat will be heated—nearly always, if not always. I was in the most remote spots of the country, in the most remote public toilets. No one around for miles. And yet, the bathroom was always spotless, and the seat always heated. (Side note: Knowing that all toilets needed electricity for this function, I would usually sneak in around 10pm, plug my power bank in, return around 4am to retrieve it. Apologies to anyone who used the bathroom during that time period and got a cold booty in return).
I’ll leave what goes on next to you. However, it is during this time that the genius and forward-thinking of the Japanese comes into play. Glance down to your right side to either a panel on the wall, or an arm full of buttons. There will be a photo of a speaker or volume, usually saying "Privacy". And thus begins the genius and respect of nature that inhabits the Japanese mindset. This is the sound of a courtesy flush. The sound. Not actually wasting water, simply the sound of water being flushed. Brilliant.
Now. You’ve finished. Great job. But this is when it can get a wee (hey!) bit complicated.
For the ladies, there will be a bidet or wash option. My Mum reads this 'zine, so I’ll just leave it at that. Again, Google.
Finally, you have the shower or, simply, rear option. And, once more, the innovation of the country appears… literally. A wand will slide out from its hiding place, a sensor judges where it needs to be, and then the cleaning begins (some newer designs have an oscillating feature, which is a nice treat if it's your birthday or something). What’s important here is that you adjust the temperature and intensity to your comfort level beforehand, less your bum ends up looking like the flag.
(Also, it should be said that the new feature on many toilets—not yet the majority, but getting there—have a deodorant option on them as well. This will usually be towards the back of the panel/arm. An even newer feature automatically lifts and puts down the lid.)
When you’re all done, you simply push the stop button and that’s it.
Congratulations.
And welcome to the vortex.
Good Day Bidet
In Salman Rushdie’s The Satanic Verses—a book I quote from often but have never fully read—there’s a bit where the British Colonials are instructing the Indian "natives" on the correct way of cleaning oneself post-poo. The toilet paper was unrolled, folded and then scraped down one’s bum, vs. the local tradition of using hand + water to gently clean. And while that’s all I remember of the paragraph, I remember either Rushdie or my own painting of the confused look of the locals going “This is supposed to be the advanced culture?”
In short: The western way of wiping is barbaric, and there’s no argument for it. You are simply smearing what was there, creating a dirtier ground zero and angering your valve in the process. It’s horrific to even think that that’s how we were brought up.
I haven’t wiped my bottom in more than 3 years, ever since making the final leap of conversation to carrying around my own. Just a wash, one of these and I’m on my way. In fact, I made it super uncomfortable last Christmas when I gifted one to every member of my family. No, really. It’s still a running joke, but I’m honestly trying to convert every one I come into contact with.
So let me give you a quick review of the ones I’ve tried:
Started with this one. Was good to me, but on a whim, bought the one below and never returned to this one, for reasons we’ll get into
This is my favorite (photo), due to its angle. I'll probably end up buying a backup, tbh.
I also picked up two of these to carry with me at all times—meaning even if I’m away from the #2 (hey hey!) I can still use any number of water bottles to attach.
It’s a strange conversation to have, sure, but I’m telling you—this is the way.
Here for any questions, although I’d do them in person, less your targeted ads become interesting.
European How-To
Having been asked this question before, I thought this the best platform to go ahead and explain the other bidet conundrum that affects many.
The European Experience.
This is always a shock for anyone, and, considering the Japanese design above, nearly as barbaric as those British in India.
For whatever reason, yes—you’ll have to scooch/waddle from the toilet to the bidet to get this done.
Once there, it’s up to you as to which direction you face.
Towards the faucet means ease of knobs, but that your hand will be doing more work.
Away from the faucet means easier clean, but crabbing to adjust temperature and flow.
Insult to injury, there will be toilet paper (or a towel, which I shouldn’t have to tell you not to use), that would need to be thrown away in either the original toilet, or a waste basket—both nowhere near the bidet.
Terrible design and obviously done by someone who didn’t mind decades of remnant drip on the wood paneling between the two devices.
And yet another reminder to simply carry your own.
(End.)
