To Pee, Or Not To Pee. That Is The Question.

by Wanda Love (Canada)

I didn't expect to find Russia

Like so many others, I took the opportunity in my late teens to spend several months touring Europe. From a school term in Tours, France to the six weeks afterwards traveling by train through Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Italy and Greece - I have fond memories of almost all of it. What I don’t remember fondly? The public toilets. The half-height doors, the infamous hole in the gruesomely filthy floor, the germ-riddled walls, devoid of either a hook for your purse or toilet tissue. I will admit - I often resorted to rubbing a small bar of soap under my nostrils before entering. But of course for the privilege of using these facilities you had to pay a small charge. When lucky, the fee would include a few sheets of toilet paper. Many times, it simply got you in the door. And I still remember vividly trying desperately to balance while going about my business, clutching my bag between my teeth so I could reach in for tissue at the right moment. That was about 30 years ago. But I recently had a flashback when I encountered one of these horror shows of a public washroom in Moscow. And for those wondering....yes, I’ve traveled quite frequently throughout parts of Europe in the past 30 years, but somehow I’ve managed to avoid this issue. I’ve been strolling the streets the of Moscow for over a month, exploring my new home town. As I meandered past Nike, Zara, Adidas, Starbucks, MaxMara, Gucci, Prada and more - I gave nary a thought to the nightmare of potties past. I blithely imagined with so much change in the “New Russia”, surely that horror show was a thing of the past. Then it all came rushing back to haunt me when I entered the public washroom at Gorky Park. Now, I’ll confess – I’m a bit of a germaphobe at times. I can trace it back to years ago when a friend gave me a copy of the book, The Secret House. I’ve never viewed everyday life the same way since. As a result, I rarely use a public restroom. I’ll do most anything to avoid it; especially on airplanes. While everyone else on the flight is diligently drinking lots of water to keep themselves hydrated, I’m in full-on camel mode. Most times, I can survive a full transatlantic flight without ever having to use the restroom. I know, I know...it’s a special talent developed over years of practice. But that day in Gorky Park? I lost sight of my goal. I foolishly enjoyed the day with friends and actually consumed the ultimate enemy of those of us who loathe public washrooms - a beer. Sitting in the sun at Gorky Park, I drank a beer. Which created the inevitable chain reaction of needing to pee. As I entered the facilities in the park, I became suspicious when I spied the woman sitting behind the table immediately inside the entrance. Though my husband had entered through the door marked for men, we ended up standing side by side in front of her table. Ever the gentleman, he paid my 'pee fee' and we went our separate ways; me on tippy-toe as I looked at the grimy floor. I timidly opened a stall door...cue the theme from Jaws. Yikes! Nothing but a hole in the floor! Incredulous, I pushed open another door, hoping, praying it was my imagination. No such luck. I immediately bolted outside to breathe fresh air while trying to convince my bladder it really wasn’t THAT full. When my husband emerged a few minutes later, he burst out laughing as he knew immediately what my reaction had been. A female friend was with me and was facing the same predicament as she had also refused to use the toilet of terror. But the fact remained.....we had consumed a beer. It was quickly determined our visit to the park was over and we speed-walked home. Home to the comfort of a porcelain potty.