A human castle in Tarragona. Photo by Elizabeth ChallinorThe cleaners in the Spanish hotel at Tarragona, where I was staying to attend a conference on medical anthropology, were taken by surprise when I approached them to complain that there was no toilet brush in my bathroom. The head cleaner smiled and said none of the bathrooms had them. I expressed regret and she told me not to worry. Actually, “don’t worry” is not the only way of translating the Spanish “no se preocupe,” which could also mean that there is no need to bother or care. But I did care! When I returned to my beautifully cleaned room at the end of the day I cared even more. “This doesn’t feel right,” I thought.Those of you who have read Sex changes and changing rooms may begin to think that I am obsessed with toilets. I am not! But neither am I afraid to write about bodily things that are outside the bounds of polite conversation.This reminds me of a conversation twenty years ago with an Angolan friend who had come to live in the United Kingdom. She was complaining about the straight handles of British toilet brushes: how was she supposed to clean the toilet properly, if she couldn’t clean at an angle? I recall not being able to relate much to her concern at the time. Yet, there I was, many years later, confronted with a similar concern: never mind the angle of the handle, there was no cleaning brush!I found it undignified to expect the cleaners to do everybody’s “dirty work” and decided to speak to hotel management. “But what if the cleaners are happy with things the way they are?” nagged a little voice inside my head.So, the following morning I spoke with the head cleaner who told me that she had already complained, to no avail. She was happy to for me to bring the issue up with the hotel manager, who was also taken by surprise by my concern. I explained how I felt it was undignified, and that from a purely pragmatic perspective it was also important to bear in mind that the cleaners only came once a day. He remarked that I could call them whenever I liked. “Do you really think I would feel comfortable doing that?” I asked rhetorically, and he agreed that it was awkward. The topic of conversation was itself awkward. He argued that it was a hygiene issue–not all guests like to see the brushes in their bathrooms, and they can’t change them for every guest–which I could understand, but not when he compared this situation to sharing the same glass. The manager concluded that this was a small hotel chain and if enough people complained then he could take the matter up.[Read the rest of the article]: The hidden beauty of a toilet brushAuthor informationElizabeth ChallinorResearcher, Centre for Research in Social Anthropology (CRIA/UM), PortugalLiz comes from a literary background having originally studied French and Spanish. She became interested in anthropology after having worked for a Portuguese NGO in Angola (1990-1992) and has carried out fieldwork in Cape Verde as well as amidst Cape Verdean communities in northern Portugal.Original article: The hidden beauty of a toilet brush©2013 PopAnth - Hot Buttered Humanity. All Rights Reserved.
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