Today’s guest post comes from Chris.

By the time this is posted, my one and only child will be on a school trip to China (along with my one and only husband). But as I write this, we are just about a week away from her departure, and we’re going through a flurry of last-minute shopping, packing and planning.

It’s going to be a grand adventure for both of them, and they are both getting excited about everything they’ll be seeing and doing there. We’ve done a great deal of preparation by researching some Chinese history and culture, looking at the route they’ll be taking on the flight over, and discussing the many things that will be different there than they are here. While my daughter has been outside of the U.S. a few times before, she’s never been to a place where things are as radically different from what she’s used to as they will be on this trip.

Out of everything we’ve discussed during our preparations, one topic has been the focus of more questions and concern than any other: using China’s notorious public restrooms.

Those of you who have visited China before already know what I’m talking about. Chinese restrooms are entirely different from what we Americans are used to. Think of the worst public restroom you’ve ever seen here in the States. Think of the overflowing wastebaskets, the empty toilet paper dispenser, the lack of soap or towels at the sink, the broken locks on the stall doors, the puddles, the stink, the general “Ewwww!” factor.

Now multiply all of those things by 10, add the fact that there are no actual toilets to sit on, and you’ve got yourself a typical Chinese restroom.

For the most part, the only Western-style toilets in China are found in hotels, and in some of the bigger restaurant chains like McDonald’s. Anywhere else you go, you will be hard-pressed to find public facilities, and those you do find will be squat-style, which is really no more than a porcelain-covered hole in the floor. Chances are you will not have a private stall to yourself, since many restrooms are simply a line of holes in the floor located within a few feet of one another. The soap for washing up afterward is generally non-existent. Come to mention it, so is the sink. Toilet paper is never available – not because they’re always running out, but because it is not provided in the first place. If you want to do that fancy “wiping” stuff, you need to BYOTP. And you must remember not to flush it once you’ve used it, since Chinese plumbing can’t handle paper – which leads us to the overflowing wastebaskets, stink, and “Ewwww!” factor that I mentioned earlier.

As it happens, I ran across an article just last week regarding the state of public restrooms in Beijing. It seems officials there are trying to crack down on the general uncleanliness by instituting what is being called the “two fly” rule. As stated by city officials, there will be “no more than two flies allowed” in a restroom at any given time. This rule has already become the target of much ridicule among residents of Beijing, with commentary online and in local news publications pointing out the absurdity of such a provision, and the futility of any attempts to follow or enforce it. As ludicrous as the new restriction may be, it does illustrate the widespread nature of the sanitation issues plaguing public facilities in China’s capital city.

This problematic bathroom scenario is the one thing that has been causing my daughter anxiety as she prepares for her journey. My husband and I thought we’d finished potty training her years ago, but now we find ourselves lecturing her on how to pee all over again. She has been told to carry toilet paper, wipes and hand sanitizer with her at all times, to wear clothing that won’t touch the ground, and to make sure she wears shoes that completely cover her feet and won’t slip on wet surfaces. We’ve even practiced the basic squat maneuver, trying to see how to best balance over an imagined hole in the ground while simultaneously preventing your pants from hitting the floor and/or getting caught in the flow of things. After all of this, I have started feeling slightly less upset about the fact that it is my husband taking her on this trip, and not me. I may be missing out on seeing the Dragon Throne in the Forbidden City, but at least I’ll be able to visit the Porcelain Throne in comfort whenever I want.

What is the most difficult adjustment you’ve ever had to make while visiting a foreign country.

Congratulations to all the graduates at every level, college, high school, middle school and kindergarden. This is a necessary ceremonial marker to remember significant transitions and major accomplishments.

OK, maybe not for the kindergarden graduates. That one might be more for the parents.

But for those who put on robes and hats at this time of year, it is important that we all acknowledge the achievement of completing a course of study. It was my great pleasure to attend a graduation last Sunday and to honor my son, Gus, and his friends as they moved into a new phase of their remarkable lives. Here they are, giddy with relief and tossing out a leg to take the next big step.

While I am filled with a father’s pride in my graduate and overwhelmed with admiration for excellence of his friends and the education they were offered, I did find parts of the final rituals a little comical.

Saturday night featured a ceremony where the graduates gathered in the chapel, heard speeches from classmates, sang a few songs, and then went out onto the campus grounds to find a lantern with their name affixed. Over 700 lights were aglow in the falling dusk. To hasten the search, the lanterns were arranged alphabetically. It was a beautiful scene with lovely symbolism, and weirdly appropriate that the final test after 16 years of schooling required a public demonstration that one had mastered those confounding ABC’s.

The next day was even better – I loved the sight of all the scholars marching in orderly lines to their rows of assigned seats – something I had just seen on an old videotape of a preschool holiday pageant. Major difference – as pre-schoolers, they were allowed to bang drums on the way.

And then came the ordeal – sitting under a merciless sun in 90 + degree heat for two hours wearing black robes and caps – something no truly educated person would choose to do. I wondered if the administration would unveil a late stunner of a surprise and award diplomas only to those who had the sense to skip the ceremony.

But no, this was a final, necessary hurdle, and will be remembered forever by the graduates for their sense of educational accomplishment and the light headed feeling of stubborn pounds most certainly lost through perspiration. On a molecular level, this graduation was a race between the need for the learned speakers to say every word they had carefully written, and the assured disintegration of the student’s bio-degradable robes. Moisture always wins in the end!

Congratulations Graduates! Now you know how to be patient and obedient, and if you hadn’t learned it before, now you know how important it is to hydrate!

What is your favorite memory from a graduation ceremony?

Dear Dr. Babooner,

About ten months ago, I was asked to give the commencement speech at a local university and I said “yes,” not thinking that the time would come when I would actually have to do it. But now that time is here and I’ve done nothing to prepare. The speech is tomorrow and all I’ve got is a head full of nonsense and clichés.

When I think about the speech I’d like to give, it’s full of wisdom and fun and the students love it they’re glad they came and grateful they had the chance to sit in the 90 degree heat while wearing black robes under a full sun to listen to it.

But in reality I don’t relate to young people very well, and even if I did I don’t suppose there’s anything anyone could say that would make them grateful at this point. They’re tired, broke, in debt, and are being sent out into the economy to find work when job prospects are impossibly bleak. There’s a huge backlog of highly educated people just like them who have been sitting in their mother’s basements for the last decade, playing video games and picking up pocket change through intermittent babysitting and landscaping jobs.

I looked online and found lots of advice on giving commencement speeches – most of it in the form of pithy clips from talks given by celebrities and earnest instructions from well meaning haiku writers who will never, ever, be asked to do what I’m about to do.

I’m frightened. Right now, this is the text I’ve got.

“Congratulations, Graduates. You’ve already been though a lot, and that has prepared you as you head out into the world. Because whatever it was you went through, there’s a lot more of it out there, and some of it has your name written on the side.

So work hard, conduct yourself with integrity, and whatever you do, always, always know your audience. In particular, always try to be aware of the boundaries – those places where your audiences’s interest in what you have to say abruptly and permanently ends. And whatever you do, do not step across those lines.

Because, whoever you are, politician, priest, or professor, one thing remains true. Unless you are a magnificent singer or a brilliant genius, people are almost always grateful and appreciative when you finally sit down and shut up.

Thank you very much.”

Do you think I can get away with that?

Sincerely,

Fully Gown Man

I told Gown Man he should not, under any circumstances, give that speech. Condescension and self deprecation are never as enlightening or entertaining as you think they will be.

People expect an uplifting message at graduation. It should be about the graduates and not about you. And yes, it should be presented in as few words as possible. If you truly know your audience, you will give them what they want, but prioritize.

“Uplifting” is job number one.
“About them” is job number two.
And “few words” is job number three.

But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?

A request and a couple of curiosities today:

First, I’m planning to take a week off June 4th through the 9th, so a selection of guests posts would be much appreciated to keep Trail Baboon fresh each day. Many thanks to Clyde, Steve, Jim, and Barbara in Robbinsdale, who have offered spontaneous guest blogs over the past few weeks and months. If you have an idea for the week of June 4th, please send me a note at connelly.dale@gmail.com.

Clyde sent this eclipse photo, relayed by his son in San Francisco.

It makes me think of raised eyebrows, a facial reaction it must be a tough to elicit in the world wise and libertine city by the bay.

But raised eyebrows is just one person’s reaction. Maybe this spray of crescent shapes makes you think of Paul Bunyan’s fingernail clippings, or eye-less smiley faces.

Perhaps they’re smiling about this: A man got picked up for drunk driving after leaving an Iowa bar when they refused to serve him alongside his two companions – a zebra and a parrot. The man, Jerald Reiter, thought he could bring his pals into the establishment because he recalled seeing animals in there before. The bar is called “The Dog House.”

Reiter told the Des Moines Register he’d had three mixed drinks at home with his dinner. He wanted to get away from his farm because he hadn’t left for several months. “I’ve been planting corn and everything else,’” he said. “So I opened the door, the zebra jumps in, the macaw loves to go for a ride, so we went for a ride.”

What could be more normal? In rural Iowa, I believe getting tipsy and piling into the car with your zebra and your parrot is known as putting on your “Poor Man’s Zubaz“.

What do you like to wear for a night on the town?