Afraid we are loo-sing the plot

In the headlong rush towards becoming a developed nation, are we in danger of lagging behind languishing down in the dumps – literally.

For, do you, like me, dread having to make use of public conveniences? Away from the North-South Expressway (Plus) rest and service areas, where else could you be confident of finding refuge when nature comes a calling. Help! My bladder is ready to burst! Please show me when I can find a lavatory, well-maintained and clean?

More often than not, a trip to the loo can be a stomach-churning ordeal. Some experience can have torturous potential. Nauseating enough perhaps to be included in the CIA manual to rival waterboarding, without exposure to international and legal opprobrium.

For those of you at the end of your tether, there’s relief from the WTO – not some stray trade body but the World Toilet Organisation (www.world toilet.org). No, April is still a full six months away and I am not pulling any of your anatomy – this WTO is legit.

I believe its ideals are so internationally universal that it has the potential to rival the UN. The quest for tolerable toilets should resonate with everybody - from Jews to Gentiles, Democrats or Republicans, BN and PR. If there’s anything that unites believers and heathens or a quest that saints and sinners share , this is it.

WTO’s contribution to international bowel bonding? Nov 19 designated World Toilet Day. Bless their pyloric sphincter.

In Malaysia, that date came and went without so much as a sniffle nor fanfare – a sad reflection of how insensitive our society is to such intestinal tribulations. If we are what we eat, than trace the travail of the chee cheong fun, vadai or mi goreng (fried mee) as it starts from mouth down gullet, through esophagus to puffed up belly. As the duodenal acids douse the toxic poisons, we soon pay the price with each peristalsis propulsion.

Pretty soon after an almost 12 hour sojourn in intestinal territory, it is time for expulsion. A man’s got to go when a man’s got to go.

Now this is where our predicament begins. I trust many behave themselves when in the strictures of their own homes, but away from domestic regimen, some lose their balance.

I am sure it is the same person who knows to flush after a big job at home who deigns to leave his handiwork in some mall WC. There are those who lack precision, leak like some rusty funnel or some who squat when they should sit.

Of course our ablution ritual involving liberal splashing of water messes the floor no end.

That however does not excuse sloth.

What about the poor Mat Salleh? Many foreigners are flummoxed at being confronted with a slippery rubber hose coated with slime but no paper once they are done.

So what gives? Lets think out of the loo on this one. We, being a nation that embraces Murphy’s law and one that might be the first to create a Ministry of Ministrations, how about appointing a Minister for Toilets?

Seriously though, the key to win this battle of the bog lies with the kids. Drill it in the minds of the young and make it part of the syllabus.

Hopefully our education system can produce individuals who can take care of our own personal space without infringing on our neighbour’s right to fresh air. Some day perhaps we can reach that level of sophistication. Then, maybe a visit to the local loo will not be such an ordeal. There’ll then be time to appreciate the graffiti – and perhaps commit to memory that telephone number of Jay from Johor who very much wants to offer the whole of Pandan a good time!

Razak Chik’s journalistic ability to sniff out a good story does not include the ability to hold his breath for more than 15 seconds. He therefore is looking for a smart phone app that can point out the location of a good clean toilet whenever nature calls.