Bathrooms

As promised (did I promise?) here are pictures of my two bathrooms.  Neither of these is my favorite room in the flat.  The one with the western toilet is in my “master” bedroom, the other one opens onto the main part of the flat.

As you can see, the floor of the larger bathroom (above) is wet — because before I took the pics I did some laundry, and also bathed.  The orange bucket I use for my laundry; the blue basin, with the pink polka-dotted dipper, is for bathing.  High up on the wall on the left are a couple of green pipe ends — these for connecting an instant water heater, a “geyser” as they are called here (pronounced “geezer”).  I don’t have a geyser (or a geezer) — but I do have an electric kettle.  Two kettles full of boiling water mixed with tap water in the basin makes for a nice hot bath. Three kettles full is luxury.  

A number of years ago Caroline and I met a British gentleman in the train station in Calcutta.  Don’t ask me how, but the conversation turned to bathing and how we bathed in our accommodations in Maynaguri, the small city where we were staying.  When we described the process he gaped at us wide-eyed and said, “You mean to tell me that you actually bathe in a bucket??”  (Only Caroline can accurately imitate his accent!)  Bathe in a bucket? Well yes, kind of.  And no, not really.  I mean, you don’t actually get in the bucket, you just use the water in it to pour over yourself.  

I follow some important bathing guidelines — number one, I don’t open my mouth when I bathe (please don’t drink the water) and secondly, I wash and rinse my hair first.  Probably everyone has their own rules (contrary to the “Bathe in a Bucket Brit” story, it is not a common topic of conversation, so I don’t know for sure).  But I wash hair first while I have a definite supply of hot water. Because although it is possible but not at all pleasant to rinse your body with cold water, pouring cold water over your head?  Yikes and double yikes!  

But talk about a falling hazard!  A smooth, wet, marble floor?  Scary!  A number of years ago I fell sprawling onto the floor while stepping down from a raised in-floor toilet platform (that sounds a bit odd — look at the picture, you can see how the in-floor toilet is actually raised above the rest of the floor).  It is a wondrous thing indeed that I didn’t break an elbow, a knee, suffer a concussion or knock out a row of teeth!  (My imagination only travels in one direction — disaster.)  Needless to say, I tread gingerly on these floors now, usually wearing a pair of “shower shoes” — flip flops. 

If you have any suggestions as to what I can do to make these bathrooms more delightful places, I welcome your ideas!