Find the Nearest Bathroom from your Cell Phone with MizPee.com

by Justin Glow on

Some things are better left executed sans technology, methinks. Take for instance a new service called MizPee which attempts to locate the bathroom nearest to you from a cellphone. It’s a good idea in theory, but it seems that anywhere you’d be where the service actually works, it’s not going to be tough to find a bathroom. But where it really counts — like in the back of a taxi in the middle of Mumbai traffic (don’t ask) — MizPee probably won’t help.

Regardless, when you’re traveling, chances are you don’t know the lay of the land. So if you really need to go, browse to www.mizpee.com on your cellphone and enter in the city and street address nearest to you, and the service will spit out the nearest public toilet. Included with the results are is the distance from where you currently are, a toilet rating, and other details like whether or not you have to pay to pee.

You can also access the service by sending a text message to their phone number (415-350-2290) with your city and state in the body. I tried this with my hometown, but after waiting about 10 minutes, I finally got a response saying, “Welcome to MizPee. Click the following address to visit our service: www.mizpee.com” Not only could I have most likely found a bathroom quicker than that, but it doesn’t help us poor folks who don’t have Internet access on our phones. It’d be great if it spit the results out as a text message instead of simply referring me to the website.

Good thing I didn’t really have to go. [via]

How To Use A Squat Toilet

by Willy Volk on

Today, of course, I’m a wizard of wandering; a master of motility; a gettin’-around guru. But it wasn’t always so.

When I first arrived in Zambia for my stint in the Peace Corps, I was immediately carted off to a village called Kapepa. There, I lived with a homestay family for a week. I had my own mud house, my own thatch bathing shelter, and my own pit latrine. I’ll be honest (and delicate): while I had no problems using the latrine to urinate, I had a real issue with going Number Two. My issue was so big, in fact, that I didn’t go Number Two for an entire week.

An entire week is a long time NOT to go Number Two.

One afternoon shortly after finishing homestay, we trainees were visiting the city of Kitwe. Sitting in a mini-bus, I’ll never forget the look on my friend’s face, when a week’s worth of starch finally came rolling downhill, screaming to be let out. “You don’t look so good,” my friend said to me. As her face floated in soft arcs in front of my pudgy, ashen face, I turned to the driver and screeched, “Where’s the nearest toilet?!” He pointed. I bolted. There, in that filthy hovel of a slimy little pooper, with the flies buzzing, and literally three squares of tissue remaining, I learned how to do the deed, squatting. Sweet relief never felt so good.

O, how I wish I had read Frank Bures’ excellent primer about using a squat pad before I had headed for Africa. It would’ve made a week’s worth of nail biting vanish in a moment. I could’ve printed out the treatise, studied it — and then used it for more ignoble purposes. Frank, buddy, where were you when I needed you?

BioToi: For Conveniently Pooping in the Woods

by Willy Volk on

Does a bear sh*t in the woods? Of course he does. Do campers? Yes. What’s the difference? Campers know to pack out their poop. Moreover, because campers have opposable thumbs, they can operate a BioToi.

BioToi is a sturdy, portable toilet developed in cooperation with the Norwegian Armed Forces, and used by NATO forces in many countries. Now available to the public, BioToi is ideal for camping, boating, hiking, hunting, RV-ing and other related outdoor activities.

Hygienic and environmentally friendly, each BioToi system comes with a roll of Bio-Bag waste bags, which are 100% biodegradable and 100% compostable. To use the system, simply thread the bags around the rim of the toilet seat, and do your business. When you’re finished, tie off the bag and pack it out. Each bag is certified to decompose to a humus state within 40 days when placed in a controlled compost environment.

A Canadian in Beijing: Escape to Shanghai

by Ember Swift on

The overnight train to Shanghai was like an adult summer camp on wheels. Beds three bunks high and six to a cubicle with only about three feet between each stack and it was clear that we were going to make friends with whomever was nearby. And we did!

But first, I was shocked at the crowds at Beijing Zhan, the principal railway station in the city. When we emerged from the underground of the subway to catch our train, Sarah told me that the crowds weren’t that bad, actually, but I still snapped pictures anyway. I couldn’t believe the density of the front courtyard with people sitting or waiting or milling about with luggage and children in tow. The excited energy was bouncing off the mid-evening lights as we dodged rolling luggage and bicycles, families and travellers in circled, seated mounds that would suddenly nearly trip us in the middle of the courtyard.

We twisted and turned and tried to keep sight of each other as we scurried into the station. We were almost late for our train, actually, and arrived just five minutes before our departure time. I wasn’t worried, though. Somehow I knew that Shanghai was on my horizon for this weekend and I knew that the train wouldn’t leave without us on it.

I was right.

We stepped into railway car number six just in time and turned down a narrow corridor that was about four feet wide. I still hadn’t registered that this wasn’t just a transit passageway to the car we were riding on, but was actually the train car itself and where we would be stationed for the next thirteen hours. We walked about ten feet and then Sarah stopped me and motioned that we had arrived at our home for the night. I turned and saw our travelling home. These were called “hard sleepers,” which is a mid-grade ticket. We were packed in but still comfortable and it looked quite cozy.

Despite the narrowness of the corridor, especially when people are sitting there, the train employees still managed to push the skinniest carts I’ve ever seen down these passageways calling out what they were offering from noodles to soup to hot water to quick snacks and bottled beverages. I had brought a bag stuffed with vegan snacks (I’m learning quickly!) and so we didn’t need to order any food. We were set and ready.

Jenni, Sarah and I were positioned in three bunks one on top of the other about half-way up the car. The top and middle bunks aren’t as expensive as the lower bunks as it is only on the lower bunks that one has enough headroom to sit up. For that reason, most people sit on the lower bench all at once, if they know each other. Otherwise, there are small chairs and tiny tables that fold out in the corridor for when travellers aren’t sleeping. In our case, we just split the cost three ways so it was an equitable travel experience. We all sat together on the lower bunk until it was time to sleep.

We all took dibs on who was sleeping where and I landed in the middle bunk. The highest bunk is probably the most private, but the middle bunk isn’t too bad either. Each one came with a pillow and a warm duvet and mine actually had a wonderful view out the window.

(Sarah snapped this of me this morning as I was watching the Chinese countryside racing past me. It was in these exact moments that I was thinking how much I want to explore more of this country!)


At 10:30pm, the lights went out and we all took to our bunk positions. There were no individual lights for the cubicles, so there was nothing to do but to sleep. Tired from a week of hectic socializing, studying and overall Beijing exploration, I had no trouble falling asleep within minutes. I have always been able to sleep in moving vehicles. It must be all the touring we’ve done.

I woke only to go to the bathroom sometime in the middle of the night. I climbed down, put on my shoes (you can’t use the squatter without them!) and then found that all the restrooms were locked. I was told in rushed Chinese that they were about to stop and that no one could use the bathrooms. It took awhile before I understood that the bathrooms are locked when people get off the train or board the train. Perhaps for security reasons? I’m not sure. Ten minutes later, we were back on our way, they re-opened the facilities, I used the squatter, and then I went back to sleep. I slept soundly until 6:30am when talking from nearby cubicles and the bounce of the sunshine nudged me to consciousness in my suspended cocoon.

A few hours later we pulled into Shanghai and were greeted with “Welcome to Shanghai” signs all throughout the arrivals corridor. I was grinning and rested and emerged into the sunlight with my friends, a full heart…

And a full bladder.

I hadn’t been able to use the facilities while in the train because I waited too long and then discovered again that they had locked the doors just before arriving in Shanghai. While Sarah and Jenni stood in line to book another train ticket for the end of their journey next week, I sought out a public restroom facility and was amazed to find that it cost money to use! An attendant called me back when I entered and gestured that I was to throw my money into a large barrel-like opening. It cost 2 kuai. I reached into my pocket, found the money and obeyed. After all, I had to go! When I had thrown in my money, she handed me a tissue to use.

I considered it a tariff for the tree’s sacrifice.

I re-emerged onto the sidewalk to be reunited with my friends, relieved and believing that anything is possible –

Shanghai had welcomed me.

How Do Airplane Toilets Work?

by Willy Volk on

The typical home toilet is a bowl filled with water… as I imagine you know. When you flush that toilet, gravity pulls pulls the water down the pipes and into the the sewer system. Because gravity is a major player, your home toilet is called a gravity toilet.

However, an airplane can’t use a bowl filled with water — or, at least it can’t do it very conveniently. Every time the pilot hit turbulence, the lavatory would be covered in water.

Instead, modern airplane toilets are vacuum toilets. The flush works in two stages. First, a small quantity of water is is released. Second, a powerful — and often frightening-sounding — vacuum is activated for a few seconds. During that unsettling sucking sound, a valve in the sewer line opens, and the vacuum in the line sucks the contents out of the bowl and into a tank, which is later cleared out by a lavatory service cart.

[Photo: TheMachineStops]