Here, let’s talk about something I still can’t get used to in Taiwan: squat toilets.
First, why does Taiwan have squat toilets? The widespread use of squat toilets in Taiwan can be traced back to the Japanese colonial period. At that time, much of Taiwan’s infrastructure and public health systems were introduced by Japan, and squat toilets were one of the main designs in use there. This design aligned with the lifestyle habits of Asians at the time. It was simple in structure, easy to clean, and very suitable for public settings.
Squat toilets are considered more hygienic because you don’t have to directly touch the toilet surface. As a result, schools, train stations, parks, and other public facilities in Taiwan adopted this design, and it has remained in use even as seated toilets became more common. In Taiwan, squat toilets are still often found, especially in remote areas, where they are the only option.
I still remember my first encounter with a squat toilet in Taiwan. I completely froze. Opening the door, I saw a white porcelain thing embedded in the ground and stood there dumbfounded: How do I even use this? Standing? Squatting? Which direction should I face? How am I supposed to handle this? What’s the correct procedure?
Many Taiwanese friends tell me that squat toilets are more hygienic, and some even prefer them. But every time I use a squat toilet, I can’t help but question their claims. Is it really more hygienic?
Let me explain why I have so many doubts.
Most of the time when I use a squat toilet, the sight is horrifying. Around the toilet, I’ve seen everything: urine, bloodstains, poop… in every imaginable form. I often wonder if I’m squatting the wrong way or if the person before me had some unusual anatomy. And don’t even get me started on the floor, which is always wet. Let’s not ask if it’s urine, because it doesn’t matter—whenever I use a squat toilet, my shoes inevitably step into that “wet and maybe urine” mess.
One time, I couldn’t hold it anymore and had no choice but to use a squat toilet. The real challenge began as soon as I stepped in! Using a squat toilet is truly an art.
First, you have to figure out which side is the front and which is the back. Otherwise, squatting in the wrong direction will make things even more awkward.
Then comes the balance challenge. While squatting, if the door doesn’t have a hook, your bag must not touch the floor, your clothes have to be lifted high, and your pants or skirt must avoid the ground—all while staying steady. Wearing high heels? That’s practically an Olympic-level event.
The hardest part for me, though, is controlling the flow—yes, your sphincter muscles. You need to control the speed of urination. If it’s too fast, it’ll splash onto your backside. Trust me, you don’t want that to happen because you don’t know what kind of liquid is splashing back. And if it’s a number two, all I can say is good luck. I’ve never had to do that in a squat toilet, but if you lose control, the splashback… might be quite a lot. 😅
Lastly, it’s a test of your eyes and nose. Between the poop smears on the edges, the wet floor, and the unique “aroma” of the toilet, it’s a full sensory challenge. Plus, you won’t know where to look. Looking straight ahead might mean losing your aim, but looking down increases the risk of splashback (which is why I strongly recommend wearing a mask).
I asked my friends why they think squat toilets are more hygienic, and they explained that it’s because there’s no direct contact with the toilet surface, reducing the risk of bacteria transmission. They also mentioned that squatting to defecate allows the rectum to straighten, supposedly helping to reduce constipation and hemorrhoids. While these scientific explanations sound convincing, for now, I’m still struggling to “gracefully squat” and “control the flow.” These benefits remain “locked skills” for me.
My attitude toward squat toilets has shifted from “terrified” to “acceptance,” but they are still not my go-to choice when I’m out and about. I do hope that more remote areas in Taiwan will have seated toilets in the future.
Lastly, here’s a guide on how to properly use a squat toilet for your reference:
Feel free to share your “first time” or any funny challenges you’ve had with toilets!
這一篇我們要來聊聊一個我在台灣到現在都無法習慣的東西—蹲式廁所
先來聊聊台灣為什麼會有蹲式廁所？其實，台灣蹲式廁所的普及可以追溯到日本殖民時期。當時，台灣的基礎建設和公共衛生系統大多由日本引入，而蹲式廁所正是日本當時主要使用的設計之一。這種廁所的設計符合當時亞洲人的生活習慣，同時結構簡單、容易清理，非常適合公共場合使用。
蹲式廁所因為不用直接接觸馬桶表面，被認為更符合衛生標準。因此，台灣的學校、火車站、公園等公共設施都開始採用這種設計，並沿用至今。即便後來坐式馬桶逐漸普及。在台灣還是常常可以看到蹲式廁所，尤其是如果去比較荒郊野外的時候，全部都是蹲式的廁所
還記得第一次遇到台灣的蹲式廁所，我整個人直接當機。打開門，裡面是一個嵌在地上的白色東西，站在廁所門口發愣：這到底是要怎麼用啊？站著？蹲著？這是要朝哪個方向蹲啊？我該怎麼面對它？怎麼個操作方法？
我一直聽台灣的朋友都跟我說蹲式的廁所比較衛生，很多時候他們甚至還寧願上蹲式的廁所。但是，我每次用蹲式廁所的時候我都對他們這一個觀點與言論帶著滿滿的懷疑。這樣真的比較衛生嗎？
就來說說為什麼我會有那麼大的困惑吧！
大部分我用蹲式廁所的時候，我看到的畫面真的都很驚悚。馬桶邊邊真的什麼都看過，尿尿、血跡、大便…各種形式的模樣我都看過。我常常懷疑是我蹲的方向不對？還是前面那個人的屁股構造跟我不一樣？更別提就是我最討厭的地板，因為永遠都是濕的。先別問那是不是尿，因為不重要，只要是使用蹲的廁所我的鞋就是直接踩在那「濕濕的又不知道是不是尿」的地板上。
但是，有一次我真的無法再忍了，只能硬著頭皮上。走進去時，才發現挑戰才剛開始！上蹲式廁所真的是一門藝術，
首先你得先搞清楚哪邊是前，哪邊是後，否則蹲錯方向只會讓情況變得更尷尬。
再來就是平衡感挑戰蹲著的時候，如果又是沒有掛鉤的門，包包不能碰地，衣服得撩高，褲子裙子不能碰到地板，整個人還得保持穩定。特別是穿高跟鞋的時候，這根本就可以列入奧運比賽項目了。
我覺得最難的其實是括約肌的掌控，因為要掌控尿尿的流速。尿速太快，會噴到屁屁。你不會想發生這樣的事情，因為你不知道噴上來的是什麼液體。如果你是上大號，我只能說祝你好運，我自己本人是沒有上過蹲的大號，但是如果那個沒有掌控好，噴上來的水….應該….會蠻多的XD
最後我覺得是眼睛與鼻子的考驗。邊邊的大便和地板的濕漉漉，搭配廁所特有的「香氣」，這是一場全方位感官的修行。而且眼睛還不知道要往哪看，往前看無法瞄準，往下看很有可能流速沒有控制好就噴上來（這就是為什麼我強力建議你戴著口罩去）
後來我有問朋友，他們覺得比較衛生的原因其實是因爲…
蹲式廁所能避免身體直接接觸馬桶表面，減少細菌傳播的可能性。而且他們說蹲著排便的姿勢還能讓直腸更順暢地擠壓，據說能幫助減少便秘和痔瘡的風險。這些科學依據雖然聽起來很有說服力，
但，目前的我我還在努力練習如何「優雅蹲下」、「控制流速」，這些好處暫時都成了「未解鎖技能」。雖然我對蹲式廁所的態度已經從「驚恐」變成了「接受」。它依舊不會是我出外的「廁所首選」，我也許願希望台灣比較偏郊外的地方能有更多坐式的廁所。
最後最後，附上一個正確使用蹲式馬桶的方法給大家參考。
歡迎一起來聊聊你的「第一次」和那些「被廁所挑戰」的趣事吧！