Question

Can somebody please explain to me how to use a bidet? I don’t want to actually use one, but I would like to know how. And hey, maybe if I knew how to use it, I would. It is so disconcerting to me to not have any idea what to do with this object in a room that has so often been a sanctuary for me. I like walking into a place and knowing consciously and unconsciously how things work – that is so intrinsically linked with my sense of comfort. And I find that the European bathroom, or actually the non-North American bathroom is oddly unfamiliar. I don’t know what to do. To think, that the line of my cultural divide is drawn thusly.

I don’t mind not knowing the protocol at a restaurant – do I find my own table? Do I wait to be seated? At the grocery store – you want me to rent my shopping cart for a euro? Label my own produce? Pack my own bags? Buy the big ones? No problem. This is part of what I love about traveling – seeing how things that we all need to do – like eat, buy wine, make keys, etc., work in different countries and cultures.

But the bathroom is a different story. To me, bathroom (my personal bathroom) represents safety, it’s a retreat, a precious place. This is my space, my time, my privacy. This is the place where I create, alter, and take care of the person I share with the world – physically AND emotionally. Here, my defenses are down. I am vulnerable. I want comfort. I want familiarity.

But of course that creates its own problems considering that a huge part of how I figure out how to do things outside of what I know comes from observation and watching people. Since I have yet to meet anyone here that I would like to watch in the bathroom, much less on a bidet, I’m on my own. I mean, do you use soap? Do you walk over there with your pants around your ankles? Did that washcloth that I’m looking at really do that there? And what’s up with no shower curtains? It’s ok to leave huge puddles on the bathroom floor? Really?