Communal Bathrooms

Ivan Seto

Text and Tradition

Analysis of a space

The communal bathroom on the third floor of Beaumont building has four showers, four toilets, and six sinks. It smells of old ceramic, chalk and must. The metal components of the room, the stalls and vents, are painted with a brown color that did a decent job of hiding the rust. The walls are made of concrete blocks and the floor is covered with small, white tiles spattered with black specks, giving the floor a dirty and sandy appearance. Depending the time of day, the bathroom can be dead silent, or filled with sounds of conversation, flushing, and splashing. The clip-clops of sandal as people make their way in and out of showers, the rushing sound of the paper dispenser after hands are washed, and the occasional whistling from the shower stalls are all sounds one would regularly hear in the bathroom. Six sinks are lined up on the wall, separated in the middle by a single soap dispenser. As a result, lines are often formed behind these two sinks, as no one wants to walk across the room just for soap. One sink is preferred to the others because of its modern faucet: water flows out at the perfect pace. I have to meticulously wiggle the knobs of the other five older sinks back and forth to get the perfect water pressure. Otherwise, the water either slowly trickles out or jet streams into my hands, spraying water everywhere. A large, blue trashcan is located under the soap dispenser. It is filled with wet paper towels and the occasional disposable ramen bowl. The toilet stalls are directly opposite to the sinks. All but one is in good condition. The second toilet on the left has a disgusting seat. While I have no doubt that it is clean, the seat’s orange and brown color makes it unappealing to use. On the inside of each stall, the words “FLUSH PLEASE” printed on a piece of paper are conveniently taped on the door at eye-level.

Despite the fact that the bathroom is cleaned daily by the...