Daniel Ferrante

Another one of my major French speaking coups: The first time I visited France, I had been studying French for less than a year; and that saying about a little knowledge being a dangerous thing - it’s true.

At Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris, I had to use the restroom really bad - as in Biblical proportions bad. The CDG is a huge massive maze of  screw me over confusion divided into two terminals, which we’ll call Labyrinth of Misdirection and Gianourmous Round Hallway That Goes Nowhere, Does Nothing and Accomplishes Even Less (sort of like dating at the Rocky Horror Picture Show, minus the drama).

So, I walked up to the closest airport employee and asked in French “On se trouve le toilet?” Sunshine came up and told me, “You left out the ‘ou’ or ‘where’. You just asked him, “Someone found the toilet?”

I eventually found the toilet, and amazingly enough, there was a bison there.

Really though, toilets in Europe (not just in France) are quite mind boggling. God bless Alexander Cummings for his invention (not Thomas Crapper, that’s a myth), but had he known how oddly bizzare they would become, he might have developed some sort of guidebook for building water closests.

Imagine you have to use the bathroom. To simulate this, drink five pints of water, a spot of tea, then go for a run - you should be good to go in a matter of minutes.

Now, hop on a plane to France and ask to use the toilet. Shock, there are none. They hide them. Where? Usually on the very top floor at the end of an incrdibly steep spiral staircase. Now, climb this staircase and then try to squeeze yourself into a matchbox. This isn’t exactly an accurate representation as matchboxes are much bigger.

Now, remember, you’re a traveller; so you have a big backpack to manage. Squeeze yoga style into the bathroom, remove your backpack and hang it on the nearly non existent nub of a jacket hook on the door. Oops, the lock didn’t engage, the door swung open and now you have to start all over again. By the time you finish preparing yourself to go, you’ll have soiled yourself.

When you do finish, you’ll have been so cramped into the tiny closet of a toilet that your legs will have fallen asleep. It’s a blast!

Now, flush. But, hey, where is the flush handle? Hell if I know. Oh, there’s a lever, try that. Nope, that made the sink run (and yes, many restroom stalls have a sink INSIDE as well as in the main part of the restroom). How about that button to your left? Nope, that’s for soap. That leash hanging from the ceiling? Wrong, that’s to signal passing aircraft. That  pedal on the floor? It summons the robots.

Honestly, there’s nothing intuitive about flushing the toilet. Literally it is different each place I go. And if you use the toilet on the train, there are usually even more buttons, levers and handles. I once spent two minutes in a bathroom trying to flush the toilet, pressing and jiggling anything that looked like it my do the job.

Turns out there was a HUGE button just above the toilet bowl - I hadn’t seen it because it was directly behind the lid of the toilet and therefore hidden.

There is one thing I do like about some European toilets. It’s a two button flush system. One is a half flush button for when you merely urinate. It’s not very powerful and saves water. Then there’s a second button for solid waste that is more powerful. I have only seen it once in the U.S. and I think they should be used more often.

However, as bad as toilets are, showers are worse - but I’ll spare you the details.

And People Wonder Why I Don’t Drink

I came to school today and found out one of my students nearly died this week. On Tuesday, he and his friend brought several bottles of fruit juice mixed with alcohol to school. They each downed a whole bottle in the span of an hour. During P.E. class, he got sick, passed out and slipped into a coma. He was quite sick with alcohol poisoning and, had he not been rushed to the doctor, he would have died.

Oddly enough, he was already back in class today. He was quite attentive and eager to participate. I suspect his parents gave him quite a talking to.

The Home Stretch

Less than two months before I leave. I can’t believe it. I’m quite anxious about returning home. However, it will be nice to return home and see my friends again. Not too excited about the job hunt, but I suspect I’ll be working again inside of two months - I hope.