China Trip Continued (from tumblr)

Favorite Story #1

Okay, so Chinese public toilets are pit-style, like so:

Let's not be ugly Americans and criticize the unfamiliar.  After all, they probably think it's gross to have their skin touch the same porcelain on which just rested the sweaty butt flesh of the previous pooper.  Still, gross.  Plus, I'm getting old and my thighs just can't sustain protracted squatting.  Please also note the trash can of used toilet paper.  Why flush it when you can leave it to enjoy for all those who follow?

Anyway, suffice it to say that I avoided using these public restrooms as much as possible.  At the Goose Pagoda in Xian it was, shall we say, unavoidable.  The good news was that the public restroom I went in had this full time janitor keeping it clean.  He looked something like this:

 Bad news #1, the stall was occupied and the guy before me was taking quite some time.  Finally, he emerged, and I witnessed the janitor guy open the door, recoil slightly and glare after me (with a disdainful shake of the head) at the previous guy as he exited.  Like so (recreated in profile, as that was my point of view):

 

Angry janitor guy disappears into the stall to clean up God knows what biohazard (thankfully, I never saw it), emerges, and grumbles as we pass, "Face that way [when pooping]."  It's the human connection that makes travel so rewarding.

Favorite Story #2

For some reason, in the hotels where we stayed (all 5 star, so this must be a classy thing) all had these giant picture windows between the bedrooms and the bathrooms.  I'm assuming it's so people can watch TV while bathing (or anything else), but who knows?  Later, we found venetian blinds that could be lowered for the discreet.
So kids are in an adjoining room, and I walk in to find Maggie with her face buried under the covers of her bed.  "What's wrong?" I say.
"That curtain doesn't block anything!" she wails.
I turn and see Jack happily showering, blithely unaware that in addition to lowering venetian blinds, one must also shut them.  He grudgingly recreated the (clothed) visual for me:

I could not love him more.