Toire
Breakfast: Now routine pastry and coffee in Dotour (a pastry and coffee chain) while reading the Japan Times. Dotour breaks up my 4 minute commute nicely.
Lunch: a tray of various nice things.
Dinner: hotel buffet.
Those with a background in French might read today’s heading as “twar”. But it’s not, it’s “toy-reh”, as in “toire wa, doko desu ka?”, or “where is the toilet?”.
It seems the English-speaking media is greatly amused by recent stories of a manufacturer recall by electric toilet seat maker Toto, because of them catching fire. Japan’s electric toilet seats are often discussed in “aren’t those Japs wacky” type columns.
The truth is, it’s not that strange, and not that funny — unless you just find all things lavatorial hilarious, which is fine. Go ahead.
There are two core features to an electric toilet seat. Firstly, they contain a low power heating element. Decadent, maybe, but remember that Japanese home are not traditionally centrally heated (hence those dinner tables with the heater underneath and the built in blanket).
Secondly, they squirt your bottom. There’s a “spray” button for everyone’s bottoms, and there’s a “bidet” button for the front bottom I’m told ladies have. When the Europeans do it, nobody snickers. Well, maybe a little. It’s more compact than having a separate bidet. A little robotic arm extends from inside the seat, and squirts hot water. You can adjust the pressure. The temperature is just right. It’s not unpleasant, and it leaves your bottom pleasantly clean.
Some seats have more elaborate features: air freshener dispensers, recordings of flushing to mask your farts, etc., but these are the exception. Mostly, you get heat and squirting and that’s your lot.
There are also “traditional Japanese” toilets, where you have to squat. These are common in public toilets in parks etc., or in cheaper food places. I’ve not had to squat yet.
Toto is by far the most common logo on bathroom porcelaine. I wonder whether the performers of “Africa” realised this, or whether they ever toured Asia and realised. It’s as if a Japanese band were to name themselves “Royal Doulton”.
Thus far: no urinal filters with “winners don’t do drugs” written on them (most of the USA), no in urinal goal scoring challenges (Swiss rafting centre), no weeing against a picture of an open road (Santa Fe restaurant, Birmingham), no urinals with a picture of a fly to aim at (many British loos, until the mid-80s).