I was shocked when the first Korean I met spoke to me.
I wasn't certain what to expect of the people. I read up
on the country, interviewed several friends who had lived
or traveled in Korea, but honestly, I didn't know any Koreans.
I'd heard that Koreans were a gregarious and warm people.
I did not doubt this, yet I was taken aback, when I was
greeted at the airport that day.
The airport bathroom was quite nice. Like all public bathroom
stalls in Korea, the doors go all the way down to the floor.
This means no "shoe browsing" as you wait in line and you
must knock on the door to find out if it's occupied. In
return, you will receive only an anonymous "knock" from
the occupant if the stall is in use. But this bathroom,
on the same floor as the International arrivals, had other
amenities as well. On each of the doors was a little framed
picture, encased in glass. The picture on the door of the
stall I chose was of a woman carrying a little bucket on
top of her head through an old Korean village. Very cute
in a garage-sale kind of way. As I opened the door, a light
switched on from the ceiling. My own little lamp. I wished
for the book I'd been enjoying on the plane.
As the English printed on the back of the toilet instructed,
I pushed the little red button on the tank behind the seat.
The plastic sleeve enveloping the seat magically cruised
like a conveyer belt from one end of the toilet seat around
the bend and then sucked in mysteriously, on the opposite
side. A fresh sheet of plastic was now in place to protect
my butt from the Public Bathroom Cooties that many of us
have feared throughout our lives. No sooner than I had sat
down did I hear that lovely Korean voice that sent me skyward,
pants still twisted around my ankles. She sat behind me,
traditionally styled, though short by Western standards,
skin of smooth, white porcelain and spoke flawless English.
The toilet had uttered, "Welcome to Korea!"
The toilet talked.
English. The toilet talked to me in English.
I stood in the corner of the stall and stared at the toilet
as it began to play a lovely new-age tune with carefree
birds chirping in the background. Last time I'd checked,
it was 1997 when I dropped acid, however, it'd been a long
day, a flashback, perhaps? I looked around for Allen Fundt-Kims'
hidden camera as I quickly pulled my pants up to my knees.
The toilet continued to sing for a full minute until at
last, the music peacefully faded away. Incredulous, I pressed
the button a second time and again that cheerful voice,
"Welcome to Korea!" I looked around so I could say to someone
else, "Can you believe this?" but I was still alone in the
stall with the long-winded lavatory.
After Zamfir finished his sphincter-relaxer refrain I sat
down and thought about the endless marketing possibilities
for the Talking Toilet. I imagined the obvious need for
the Conversational Can in college dormitories, fraternity
and sorority houses all across America. Imagine if, as you
lay, your hair half submerged in a toilet bowl full of your
own vomit, your toilet would have offered you one of several
different types of advice in a friendly, succinct manner.
"Forget about HIM/HER! He's/She's a loser! He'll/She'll
be sorry one day!" or, "Use a condom next time!" or perhaps
simply, "Beer then wine and you'll be fine…." You know the
rest but it's timeless advice all college kids should adhere
to, isn't it?
Anyway, lost in thought, there was a knock on the door.
I knocked back and began to do up my belt. I must admit,
I was excited just as I was about to flush. What other surprise
might there be? Maybe a fire-works display or perhaps some
gem of Korean wisdom to send me out on my foreign adventure.
I was at least expecting a, "Thank you!" or worse, a "Geez,
what'd you eat for lunch?" but there was only silence when
I flushed. I cannot deny I was slightly disappointed. As
I opened the door, the lamp above clicked off.
I washed my hands and face and tried to imagine the next
year of my life. I drew a complete blank. I realized that
beyond the sterilized airport environment, I hadn't any
idea what to expect. That was ok, though. I didn't really
expect much of anything when I went into the rest room to
begin with but I walked out with a bounce in my step and
a pan-flute song in my head. Not a bad way to start the
year.
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