Toilet Humor

Initially appeared on doktorko.com 3/6/2006.

For some cultural reason, Filipinos (i've generalized from my own behavior here; if you believe that i'm misinformed, feel free to voice out your opinion) have such a morbid fear of being discovered defecating that we go out of our way to keep it secret.

Personally, i've "baptized" more toilets than i can count.  In GS/HS, i used (in no particular order): the usual student toilets, the "faculty stalls," the auditorium toilet (always clean, ready for VIPs), and the gym toilets.  It would always be an adventure looking for a bathroom where there would be no one around to witness me do the deed, lest they enter the adjacent stall, climb on the toilet, and peek over the dividing wall to catch me with my pants down.  Quickly, i learned to 1. always keep one hand holding the door closed - the locks were so flimsy that a quick kick would blast the door open to reveal me in all my glory, and 2. produce one big ire that would evacuate my colon in five seconds flat.

Whenever i used the main lavatories, i would have to wait until after recess or lunch (i.e. during class) to minimize the chances of random people walking the halls and using the bathrooms.    However, if there was an exceptionally large density of people precluding privacy, i would actually have to walk over to the prep buildings (fully ten minutes away from the main building - this kept my sphincter healthy), and do my thing over there.  There was always the danger of a little kid discovering me, but even a horde of five-year-olds chanting "TUMAE SI KUYA!" would be preferable to a group of my peers doing the same.

For college i moved to a bigger campus, with (thankfully) more options.  My sweet spot would be one of those toilets right beside the faculty rooms in William Hall.  These would often be clean (i've always suspected that toilets are sanitized using a double-standard - daily for faculty/administration and weekly for students) and usually have tissue paper on hand.  But woe to the one who forgets to bring his own tissue!  I did this once, and ended up wiping my nether regions with a quarter-page of the school paper (crumpled between my hands for five minutes to achieve silky smoothness).

Another option in college would be at the top of the SJ building, near the labs; this was especially gratifying during the trimesters when COMPLAB was on people's plates.  The methane gas released by my innards would overpower the stench of formalin-soaked cat corpses - at least within a five-foot-radius.  The location was also invaluable on those early mornings that my routine McDo coffee stimulated tsunami-like peristaltic waves in my colon.  The faculty bathrooms would be locked during those wee hours, forcing me to fly up four flights of stairs while undoing my belt and sit on the throne in the nick of time to the dulcet tones of B-RR-UU-UU-T.

In Medical School, the main options would be going back to the dorm (almost never feasible, especially not in clerkship), using the call rooms (definitely not the best choice), or finding a deserted bathroom.  The last would always be my choice.  Not having a car, i was too cheap to spend pamasahe just for 5 minutes at home to use the kubeta.  And the call rooms were terrible.  Therefore my personal favorite became the bathrooms on the third floor of the A. King building (near the Bioavailability Unit), which no one except the faculty and research personnel (or maybe a few of my classmates...?) used.  Even if anyone caught me, i was just another student and they wouldn't be able to pick me out of a line.

Make no mistake - school was not the only venue; on the weekends i'd use the mall toilets (Glorietta, SM - walang sinasanto. Except Harrison Plaza - never go to Harrison Plaza!), my friends' houses, my girlfriend's house, etc...  It was actually during these forays that i mastered the one cleansing ire technique.  It's poor form to have your girlfriend's dad catch a whiff of your biological weapon when he already thinks you're a d!ck, so you'd better be in and out of there in a minute or less.

As i grew older, the stigma of emptying my bowels became less... stigmatizing.  While working in the ER of a secondary hospital, i'd sometimes tell my nurse (with a little flourish), "Tatae lang ako," then head off to the bathroom.  But invariably, she (if it was a he, NR lang) would snicker, wink, and make snide comments when i came back.  And, perhaps by conditioning, despite having informed the proper people of my noble intentions, i'd always naturally look for the most obscure bathroom.  If perchance while i was busy somebody walked in and used the adjacent cubicle - i'd sit and wait until they left before exiting my own stall - to "hide" my identity.

Now, 8000 miles away from home, it's different.  People cr@p with impunity.  I'm in the office and one of my colleagues takes his coat off, spends ten minutes in the bathroom, opens the door to release his foul miasma, puts his coat back on, and goes back to work without batting an eyelash.  I'm in the hospital hanging out in the coat room and one of the nurses comes in to use the bathroom.  In two minutes she's done here thing and her foul odor unerringly wafts into my nostrils.  She exits with nary a comment or apology.  I know it's the most natural thing in the world - but to actually act like it's the most natural thing in the world - amazing!

No more sneaking around in the shadows, figuring out timetables, and identifying the viable bathrooms.  No more social embarrassment.  No more nasty looks and toilet humor at my expense.  Freedom!

But somehow - it only reminds me that this place is not my home.