Bathrooms. Lavatories. Loos. Water Closets. Toilets. Powder Rooms. Out Houses. Johns. Ladies Rooms. Mens Rooms. Cans. So many names and none of them exactly topics for polite company. This morning, however, I find myself thinking of bathrooms. When I was a kid, my brother used to throw a fit to use the bathroom everywhere we went, just so he could see what they looked like. Once morning in a McDonald’s, my mom was sure something had happened to him since he didn’t come out. Several stressful minutes later, she found him at the sink in the men’s room, happily playing in the water.

As an adult, I almost understand his fascination with restrooms (almost…not really…that’s a little weird, right?). Restrooms around the world can be elaborate. On our most recent trip, the restrooms were designed like a space module. The walk to the restrooms was long and dark, but you could look out portholes to see stars and planets. A recording of flight command played in the background, giving the illusion that you were in deep space. In Ireland, at a local pub, I asked a server how to get to the bathroom. He pointed to the wall. Along the wall sat an old wardrobe. I figured it held menus or tablecloths. I sat a while longer and asked the girl who brought us more water. She pointed to the same wall. Unable to wait much longer, I went to the bar and asked the bartender, telling him that the servers had pointed me to the wall. He laughed and explained that I had to open the door to the wardrobe and walk through it…literally. Like going to Narnia. Sure enough, I opened the wardrobe and there was a large anteroom with arrows to the left for the ladies room. Fascinating. Intriguing. Elaborate restrooms can be found right here in Missouri. Golden toilets and elaborate murals, you never know what you might find.

Unfortunately, not all restroom encounters have been magical. For the sake of polite company, I will not describe those here. And I refuse to discuss encounters with pit toilets. But even clean restrooms can be disappointing and stressful. I have always wondered why there are so few stalls for women in sports stadiums or why the ladies room is always down the darkest hallways and the furthest away from the main areas in malls and gas stations. Safety and efficiency are not always the order of the day. Once, I visited a restroom at Mill Stream Gardens Recreation Area and opened the door to the restroom to find several snakes wrapped around the toilet paper holder. Surprising and definitely not pleasant encounters. It pays to stay alert in unfamiliar surroundings.

Sometimes I am surprised by restrooms when traveling as bathroom customs are not the same everywhere. In Italy and France, men and women use the same communal restroom in some establishments. The stalls are floor to ceiling and the sinks are shared. A perfectly functional gender neutral system. To those of us who have been gender segregated since birth, it was still a little disconcerting. In both Ukraine and in Africa, I was a guest in schools whose restrooms were porcelain squat toilets. They took some getting used, but when in Rome…. In many areas of the world, you need to bring your own paper if you use a public restroom. In Morocco, I was often able to purchase paper by the sheet before entry. Sometimes, I needed my own supply. In Iceland, we encountered the toilet turnstile. (No coin. No entry.) New norms. New experiences.

Why am I thinking about toilets? Yesterday, I went out for a hike with a friend. When I got to the parking lot, her car was there and she was not. The door was open and her bag and hiking stick were propped by the car. She was nowhere in sight. I called her name. I looked in her vehicle, being careful not to touch anything. I circled the parking lot and surrounding trees looking for her. As I was circling, I heard my name. Softly and then louder, “Roxanna…help me… I am trapped.” I became hyper alert. Where was she? Was someone restraining her? Should I call 911? “Where are you?”, I called. This went on for a minute or so. All the while, I scanned the trees and couldn’t hear or see anything out of the ordinary. Finally she said, “I’m stuck in the outhouse!” I looked and couldn’t see anything that looked like a Johnny on the Spot. After another minute of back and forth, I saw an old wooden outhouse just down the hill and hidden in the trees. It had a piece of wood nailed to the outside of the door that could be turned to keep the door from blowing open. It seems she had run down to the outhouse. She knew we would be hiking for several miles and I was due to arrive in the next five minutes (we had been texting arrival times). She did not know that when she went in and closed the door, the wooden block would turn and trap her inside. Surprise…shock…for both of us. I thought she was the victim of an elaborate abduction and all the while she was standing on a wooden outhouse seat, yelling through the vent to her friend to walk the 15 yards and get her out. Laughter and memories.

Bathrooms….an ordinary part of the human existence. Seldom talked about. Sometimes surprising and whimsical. Sometimes mundane and unmemorable. Sometimes dirty, dingy and cringeworthy. Sometimes shocking, unfamiliar, or inaccessible. Sometimes the unlikely subject of a random blog post. And sometimes the scene of a hilarious adventure. Life is what you make it. Enjoy the journey. Here is hoping that you find more magical wardrobes, space walks and the laughter of friends than snakes, coin operated locks, and stinky outhouses.