A Traveler’s View of Japan’s Public Lavatories

ON OUR FIRST MORNING IN JAPAN, my daughter and I went to a small cooking class held on the second floor of a business building near our hotel. For several hours we learned to form rice balls, pat raw salmon into the correct shape, and roll chopped ingredients between layers of rice and dried seaweed. Finally, we ate our created delicacies, washing everything down with green tea.

As we were about to leave, I remembered the time-tested traveler mandate my mother taught me: “Use the facilities whenever you see them—who knows how long it will be before you have another chance.”

When I emerged from the restroom, I motioned to my daughter to come over. “Go in,” I whispered. “You won’t believe what they have.”

This leads me to an indelicate subject seldom mentioned but important to every traveler: public lavatories.

I have traveled the world for the last sixty-plus years, so I know something about finding a place to relieve oneself when the body demands.

On my first trip to Europe at the age of sixteen, I learned the technique of walking into a five-star hotel lobby with the assurance of a registered guest and locating the ladies as if I had been there before. I would emerge triumphant and refreshed.

Such tactics are only possible in cities and tourist areas, so over many decades I have encountered a multitude of “necessities” that are impossible to fully describe in polite company. Memorable among these are “squatters” in India in the 1970s and a particular maggot-infested latrine in Lau Fau Shan in British Hong Kong in 1980.

Things have changed since my early travels. Western-style, flushing commodes are now the rule everywhere. But nowhere is the change to modern plumbing more evident than in Japan.

On my first trip to Japan in 1974, the traditional Japanese toilet (benjo) was the usual type found in public facilities. Only newer hotels had Western-style porcelain commodes.

The Japanese benjo (called gofujo by polite ladies) is a ceramic flush bowl in the floor over which one must squat or stand. A woman who lived in Japan for many years told me that a traditionally clad lady is unable to hike up her kimono. She must stand over the aperture, legs spread to keep the long, tightly secured layers from getting soiled. This may explain why modern Japanese women seldom wear kimono in their daily lives. My friend shared that a standard commode is also impossible for a kimono-clad lady, as the garment cannot be lifted above the ankles. (The question you are probably asking yourself now was not shared.)

In the intervening fifty years between my first visit and my recent month in Japan, toilet facilities have moved into the modern world. I can write, without hesitation, that in my opinion, Japan now offers the best public restroom facilities in the world.

They are abundant, well-marked, and universally clean. In four weeks, I saw only one piece of paper on the floor of a lady’s lavatory. But most amazing of all, commodes have full bidet functions. Even in Tokyo’s public fish market, a row of stalls with spotless bidet toilets welcomes ladies (I can’t vouch for what men are offered). In the entire time I was in Japan, I only saw one standard (non-bidet) toilet, and it was in a tiny basement bar with hardly enough space for six patrons.

The toilets in most public facilities do not simply use aftermarket seats; they are full-on smart toilets. Wireless controls on the wall offer a variety of functions (front, back, pulsing). The bidet water jet is warm, and often the seats are warm too—a much-appreciated feature on frigid winter days.

Besides the elegant toilets (better than mine at home), public restrooms in Japan incorporate other amenities. A few stalls in almost all ladies’ rooms include a special toddler seat, which enables a woman to do what she needs hands-free, her child safely nearby. Also, in consideration of child safety and a mother’s peace of mind, many women’s facilities included a little boy’s size urinal set into the wall. Of course, there are fold-down changing tables for infants, and occasionally we saw larger tables called “care beds” designed for caregivers to clean and dress disabled or elderly patients.

Once over the pleasure of using the facilities, a traveler in Japan soon realizes that almost all these toilets are made by one company: TOTO. How did this Japanese company gain such a monopoly on the bidet toilet market? A little research reveals that they used both modern innovation and excellent marketing. (totousa.com)

Founded in 1917, the original company set out to introduce Western-style ceramic toilets, at that time almost unknown in Japan. In 1967, a Japanese trading company asked TOTO to become the manufacturer of an American product for which they had acquired the patent—a bidet seat aimed at hospital patients and older adults.

The aftermarket seat had not sold well in the states and initially, it did not sell well in Japan either. But TOTO did not give up. They initiated extensive testing and redesigning of the seat and its functions.

TOTO’s first breakthrough was the creation of an electronic operating system that greatly enhanced efficiency and dependability. But TOTO’s engineers did not stop there.

They wanted to improve the angle of the water jet so it consistently found its target. For this they needed volunteers to test the product. Finding willing participants to use the bidet seat and offer feedback on their experience was understandably difficult. However, more than 300 employees came forward to do this vital work. Besides tests to find the correct angle for the water-wand’s spray, testing was done to determine the perfect temperature for the water and for the seat itself.

In 1980, after implementing their discoveries, TOTO launched the first luxury bidet, the “Washlet.” The response in Japan was positive, not least because customers soon learned that the company stood behind their product, replacing any that failed.

TOTO began an intense advertising campaign that used a famous actress to describe the benefits of the bidet seat. But they needed to overcome the desire of customers to try the product before they bought one for their home. TOTO set up vans equipped with “Washlet” toilets near many plumbers’ shops and offered a “trial-period” promotion that included free returns.

TOTO continues to develop new features and improvements. They have added such innovations as the fully integrated bidet toilet, oscillating water massage, automatic seat opening and closing, auto-flush, and most recently, something called “Ewater+” (that sanitizes the wand after each use).

Thousands upon thousands of smart bidet toilets are happily used by travelers in Japan’s public lavatories and hotel rooms. These days, they are also the standard in private homes. A few public facilities still offer a couple of traditional squatter-style stalls, perhaps for the convenience of ladies wearing kimonos. To avoid confusion, stalls are clearly marked with logos on the door.

This consideration for visitor comfort, a hallmark of the Japanese culture, carries through even to their restrooms. Now that I’m home, I miss the luxury of the fancy toilets in Japan, and I dream of the day I can afford a smart bidet-equipped commode in my own bathroom.