Soumya tells us about the trails and travails of high-tech Japanese loo. A tongue-in-cheek account, exclusively for Different Truths.

Marco Polo’s famous book had a chapter on India that is often omitted, as researchers discovered later that he had never travelled to India but wrote the story based on stories heard from other travellers. Whatever the authenticity, I am fascinated by that account. Among many interesting things, it talks about the liberated women and warns the traveller not to be confused by their open friendliness, much as Indian travellers to the west are warned nowadays.

The aspect that deals with our story are his amazement by the fact that Indians bathed every day and still did not fall sick, and that they used only the right hand to eat and used the left for a purpose, which he could not mention out of propriety.

It is this left-hand job that we are talking about.  This unique habit of Indians makes life difficult while travelling abroad.

It is this left-hand job that we are talking about.  This unique habit of Indians makes life difficult while travelling abroad.  The paper does not appear hygienic to an Indian and leaving a wet floor is no longer acceptable in civilised society.

The French upper class discovered the wonderful substitute, the bidet. The ingenious Indian mind soon adapted it to the very useful jet which helps an Indian feel clean without creating a mess.  This is now available in every home as well as most upper-class hotels in India and in those foreign shores where the Indian diaspora congregates.

But hygiene and comfort in the loo has been taken to new heights by the Japanese.

But hygiene and comfort in the loo have been taken to new heights by the Japanese. So much so that it can be a nightmare to a tech-challenged Desi like me. This is the story of my travails in this high tech ablution paradise.

I had checked into a very comfortable hotel which catered frequently to Japanese guests. The first hitch was that everything in the room was controlled by a small handheld tablet. After some help from a polite but amused young attendant, I figured things out somewhat.

So, when I approached the loo, the lid sprang open on its own, startling me. As I jumped back in surprise, it closed the lid again and flushed on its own.

But the real problems started in the bathroom. First of all, the toilet seats were

motion sensitive, and the lid opens if you come near, so that you do not have to touch anything by hand. So, when I approached the loo, the lid sprang open on its own, startling me. As I jumped back in surprise, it closed the lid again and flushed on its own. After convincing myself that this was not a haunted loo, and this was more startling technology, I managed to settle down.

Next surprise was that the seat was warm. In boarding schools in winter, juniors often have the duty of sitting on seniors seats to warm them up before these mighty seniors used the loo, and I wondered if the waiters here provide this service for the comfort of the guests. But logic suggested that such feudal service is unlikely, and this was more technology. A panel with touch screens by the side proved that this was the case. But then again, idly trying out the panel proved dangerous, as the seat became unbearably hot and caused me to jump again.

After getting the temperature under control, I was assaulted by a warm jet of water that nearly propelled me out of my seat.

After getting the temperature under control, I was assaulted by a warm jet of water that nearly propelled me out of my seat. Further investigations proved that the panel, at the lightest touch, controlled the force direction and temperature of the jet, of which there were two, and they could even swing and rotate. The jets were followed by puffs of warm air to dry you up, and some perfume to make your stay comfortable. It was the most luxurious bathroom experience I could imagine, but a simple act of ablution took all the skill of flying a plane. Moreover, this was not a situation where you could summon a helpful waiter to give a demo and help you out.

Traumatised by the experience of the high tech luxury evacuation, I asked my colleague who hailed from the rural heartland, how he had coped. He had found a simple solution. Going back to his childhood days when he attended to the call of nature in the lap of nature, he carried the bottle of mineral water from the room fridge with him and thus outmaneuvered technology and luxury from coming in the way of his basic activities.

Photos from the Internet