Corporate “Business”

Now, I was raised in a small farming town in Southwest Idaho.  It was a pretty sheltered community, which means that it was a long way from anywhere else.  Potatoes were the cash crop, and that’s all that mattered.  I were educated, so I knowed that other places did exist.  However, I NEVER came into close personal contact with those “other places.”  Therefore their impact on my life was minimal.  The closest I ever got was experiencing bits and pieces of culture from my friends who were children of migrant farm workers.  (Like the time a mother came to my sixth grade class and made tacos for the students.  Best tacos EVER!)

Well… there was also my friend whose parents are Japanese – first generation in the states.  He was as American as they come, but his parents were… um… hard for me to understand.  He used to poke fun at his mom by having her recite the words “Lionel Richie” for his friends.  It came out sounding like “Riono Leechee.” 

But that’s it.  That’s as international as I got.  Riono Leechee.

So, when Crocodile Dundee looked at that funny contraption in the bathroom, I thought it was funny, sure, but I had absolutely NO IDEA what that contraption was for.  And I didn’t very much want to figure it out.

Fast forward to adulthood.  Been all over this thing called North America...  Don’t think I ever did run into a bidet.  But by this time I had figured out what they were for:  “You know… to wash those parts.  Ahhh now I seeeee… no I don’t.”

Fast forward to my arrival at the hotel here.  “Ahhh… two fixtures over there.  I guess that one on the right is it!” 

Well, without going into too much detail, I’ve had some time and proximity to ponder on the matter.  And I STILL can’t figure it out!

Saudi Aramco is a HUGE melting pot with many, many cultures represented.  The hotel room service menu boasts dishes from Italy, India, Asia, the Mediterranean, etc.  And, after partaking of some of that food, I have had ample opportunity to ponder upon the nature of the bidet, and I still don’t have answers.

You see, I’m much more used to the Western way of doing things.  I’m comfortable with it.  I can relax, get the job done, and be on my way.  But now I’m in this place that has to accommodate people from the world over…  And EVERYTHING is new and strange to me…  

So, lest anyone be as ‘sheltered’ as myself, it’s easy enough to Google how to use one.  I did that.  It was funny and not TOO embarrassing.  I now have the book learning, but have yet to put it into practice…

But, even now, I just don’t get it! 

It’s time for some pictures:

You’ve seen this one already in a previous post.  

I get the upspout thing.  I can see how water can provide one with a fresher feeling…  Butt it sure seems like drying off would be a pain...

Now notice that thing in the middle – to the Westerner’s left, and the Easterner’s right.  It’s a hose!...  With a nozzle!!!!

Yeah.  That’s the part I don’t get.

You see, when I’m washing the dishes, and I decide to rinse them with the little spray nozzle, I CAN’T HELP but make a mess of things.  Water sprays all over the counter and the dry dishes, and my shirt, and I worry about water getting under the counter and causing a real problem!

Therefore… I am completely baffled by how ANYBODY – regardless of nationality – can use one of these things without making a really big watery mess. 

Well, to complicate matters, the hotel seems to be a little old fashioned.  Here’s what it looks like in my workplace.  

The hose is still there, but the upspout is missing.  They’ve combined it all into one unit!  How am I supposed to process this information?????

So, just today, I had yet another opportunity to ponder on these things, when, I noticed water running in the stall next to me.  But then it occurred to me that that wasn’t a flushing sound…

That was it! He’s doing it right now!  Right next to me!  WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON IN THERE?!?!?!?!?

Ahem…

Mystery NOT solved.

But that’s not the end of the story.  You see, when you enter the men’s room in my workplace, the door straight ahead leads to my comfort zone, but there’s another door to the right.  When you pass through that door, there is a standard row of sinks on the right, and a rather innocent-looking row of stalls on the left.  On the inside, each of them looks like this:

ARRRRRRGH!!!  I won’t even begin to discuss the potential issues that this brings up.  (But I saw through the window that somebody was in there – so this room does get used…  Or, maybe he was just taking pictures to send home.)

And so, the mystery deepens...  If you made it this far, I am grateful.  And in the immortal words written on the sign on the inside of the Western style stall door:

Thank you for corporation.