When I came to Japan for the first time 10 years ago, I couldn’t speak or read Japanese. Japan, which is located almost 10.000 km from my home country, was an exotic and completely unknown country. I was an ignorant tourist who didn’t know what was installed for me. Looking around, smell, sounds, light, and people, everything was different. Though knowing it was far away, as one of the biggest metropolises in the world, I didn’t think that at least Tokyo would be all that different or difficult to get around. My laidback and “happy go lucky” attitude caused me some surprise though, when I realized that not too many people spoke English, and that most signs were written with Chinese characters that were incomprehensible to me at that time. This “lost in translation” situation brought me a lot of unforgettable experiences that were really interesting, and mostly harmless and just hilarious.

As my stay in Japan preceded I gradually picked up some simple phrases in Japanese that helped me at least a bit in the jungle of Chinese characters and complex systems. However, these two elements in combination caused me for instance a toilet incident that I will never forget. Japan, which is famous for its advanced technology and inclination towards cleanliness, with hot springs and public baths all over the country, has also probably the most elevated toilet technology in the world. In Japan many toilets, especially in department stores and better restaurants are veritable “human washing machines”. The lid goes up and down automatically, the toilet seat is heated during colder seasons, and on the side there is a keyboard worthy of an advanced computer, full of buttons with different functions. It is really amazing and impressive for those who are just used to one flush button, but as it is only explained with those tricky Chinese characters, it can be quite frustrating for Chinese character illiterates, who will be pretty lost. Cause which buttons are you supposed to push and when, and what functions do they all trigger off?

I got to learn about this the hard way, “trials and tribulations”. During my first visit I went to a small island called Miyajima, just outside the coast of Hiroshima. This idyllic place was just like going back in time, full of old temples and buildings, people walking around in kimono, and lots of dear on the loose. I was staying at a “ryokan”, a traditional Japanese hotel that was just like the stereotypical image of Japan, simple and natural. I had just installed myself into the room and wanted to go to the toilet after a long travel. The bathroom was refined, with the beauty of simplicity and a sweet odor of pine. The toilet itself however was more like an item taken from a SF-movie, a hyper modern machine with a keyboard with almost countless amount of buttons. I sat down without thinking, and just looked at the keyboard with astonishment and wonder.

However, when it was time to push that “magic button” I suddenly got a slightly desperate and uneasy feeling. I looked at the keyboard again, this time with more seriousness, but the more I looked the more confused I got. After sitting there doing research for almost 30 minutes and still being clueless, I just decided to push one of the biggest buttons which seemed likely to be the right one to push. To my great surprise and shock pushing this button triggered off a spurt of water in the upward direction. Apparently, in my nervousness I had pushed the button so hard that it had even gotten stuck and thus kept on catapulting water, and was basically attacking me. I desperately tried to push all of the other buttons, but without any result. I tried to stand up, but the jet of water was so hard that it spurted water all the way to the ceiling. What worse was, for some reason the toilet did not have a lid, giving me no choice but to sit down again and keep the spurt under control with my bare hands.

When I had almost given up on finding a solution to my problem and was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, I saw a button on the wall with red letters saying “emergency button”, and pushed it surely more than a dozen times. Only a few minutes later an older woman in kimono came rushing into the toilet. She was quite startled by what she saw, even though I could see that she was trying not to appear surprised or shocked. Me on the other hand had never been so humiliated in my entire life, and just closed my eyes hoping it would all be over soon. The woman in kimono just turned of the spurt function by one-button push, bowed, and left before I could realize it. The same afternoon a young man employed at the hotel and who spoke a little bit English, explained to me the different functions on the keyboard on the toilet. One button is simply for flushing, then there is a button for softer flushing, the one I pushed which triggers off water so people can wash off, and also a button that sets off a dryer function. There were more buttons, but with functions that were difficult to understand, and so I just focused on getting the flushing button right. Now, I personally have come to enjoy the luxury that the Japanese wash toilet offers, and only look back on “the incident” as a humorous memory of my naive first-encounter with this amazing and fascinating country. However, even though I can laugh at the happening now, I still hope for the sake of others that this gadget will come with a multi-lingual explanation in the near future, so that more people will be able to enjoy this great invention and not just end up having an “unforgettable” experience.

Japanese culture has so many unwritten rules and unique etiquette for most things, including “the toilet”. One time when I visited the home of a friend, I for instance forgot that there are special slippers only for use inside the toilet. I correctly changed slippers arriving at the toilet, but afterwards I walked straight into the living room with the neon-yellow toilet-slippers that had WC written with big letters and impossible not to notice by the Japanese family members sitting around the dinner table. Again I had that lost feeling and turned undoubtedly red from head to toe when my friend pointed out my mistake in front of her entire family, who were trying hard not to laugh. Yet another “lost in translation” moment, experiences that fortunately have gradually decreased with time, but which still happen occasionally. However, it must be said that Japanese people are very considerate and make it easier for people when they make a fool of themselves. They really go to the length not to make too much out of people’s embarrassing incidents and help you out the best they can.

Japanese people are not only very hygienic, but they are also very polite and often try in all ways not to disturb others. In Japan there are for instance flush-sound boxes, which often are found on the wall next to public toilets, at least in women’s toilets. This sound-box was invented as a result of that companies operating public toilets realized that many women were flushing several times during their visit to the toilet, so that others wouldn’t hear any embarrassing sounds. Japanese people’s tendency towards cleanliness is so pronounced that there are even portable wash-toilets, to keep a high hygienic level even on travels and visits to countries where wash-toilets don’t exist. The carry-on toilet is driven on batteries and is only about 7 cm in length and 5 cm in width, weighs just 250 grams, and has a standard and a soft spurt function.

There are many advanced devices to make the use of the toilet more practical. As Japanese homes often are quite small, there are small and compact toilets and sinks, and combinational equipment to save space. Many toilets are even a combination of toilet and sink with a sink on top of the toilet, which spurts out water automatically after pushing the flush button. The original Japanese toilet is very different from the toilet that is the standard today, which is an importation from the west.

“Washiki” which the traditional toilet is called in Japanese, is basically a cavity in the floor, a very simple and hygienic arrangement, but maybe not as comfortable as the modern toilet where you get to sit down. There are broadly two types of toilets in the world, “the seat type” and the “non-seat type”. The border of the regions where the two types are used is Turkey. West of Turkey the “seat type” is the standard, and east of Turkey the “non-seat type” is the most common. Thus, in Europe the “non-seat type” is often called Turkish-toilet. The traditional Japanese toilet has been in use in Japan since the Heian-period (794-1192 A.D) and is still in use today though some, especially older people have had their “washiki” toilet transformed into a more comfortable equipment by installing a seat implement on top of it.

The Japanese toilet industry is amazingly advanced, with high-tech merchandises and a constant search for the optimal comfortable condition. The toilet’s “status quo” in Japan reflects the Japanese culture in a way, and could in other words be seen as “Japanese culture in a nutshell”. The correlation between the culture and the design of toilets has a long history and is for instance described by the famous writer Junichiro Tanizaki (1886-1965) in his book “In.ei Raisan”, “In Praise of Shadows” from 1933. In this book he describes the Japanese toilet as a place where one can ease one’s mind. That it is a place built in true harmony with nature, where the shadows of the surrounding vegetation and the dusky light from the paper doors produce a beautiful ambience, which is exquisitely unique. Further he states that it is a place to meditate and suitable for scenting the fragrance of the seasons, which are essential aspects of “the Japanese sensation”. Tanizaki even concludes that the toilet is the most tasteful and adequate of all Japanese architecture and that it probably has inspired many haiku poets in their writing. The modern Japanese toilet may not be as much in harmony with nature as described above, but it is surly a place where one can rest one’s mind and contemplate away from the hustle and bustle outside. I have many times found myself daydreaming or absorbed in thoughts, losing track of time while being in the toilet.

Looking back on my Japanese “toilet experience” I have to admit that it has entertained both myself as well as others, and that the many “lost” moments I’ve had in Japan actually have taught me a lot. The experience of being in a place where even the most ordinary things are arranged differently, challenges you, and forces you to think anew to find solutions to unaccustomed situations. The best thing I learned from my mistakes in the encounter with Japanese culture though, was not to take myself too seriously, and to be able to laugh at my own mistakes. Self-irony is such a relieving thing and a valuable acquirement, which actually makes my so-called “incidents” worthwhile. It also must be said that there’s really nothing like sitting down on a heated toilet seat on a chilly day, and that the modern Japanese toilet in a way functions as an anti-stress station in the busy and stressful everyday life in Japan.