Long ago, a "learned" man arguing against women entering Sabarimala asked the most illogical question, if women would enter men's bathroom too? I casually thought, women will, if they HAVE TO.
Fast forward to a few years later, I have found myself in a similar situation, not once, but god knows how many times, thanks to my field role in construction that makes me walk into men's restrooms (of course not with men) more times than I could recollect. It is no mystery that project sites in India do not have many women employees to begin with. Yet they all have at least one women's restroom, even if not maintained properly. And it is usually locked since it is seldom used, and to avoid miscreants using it.
There is a job site I occasionally visit where I have to collect the bathroom keys from a lone female employee there. To my dismay, she resigned a couple of months later, and I had to request the keys from the HR. He would usually hand it over and tell me to drop it back when I left. As I was the only person using it, and that too very rarely, as fate would have it, the bathroom was never cleaned, and I saw a dead lizard once. There was even a huge opening in the wall, big enough for a person to enter. Honestly, the lizard scared me more than the unattended opening. As a responsible visitor, I informed the HR about the state of the uncleaned bathroom. He promised to look into the issue, but I was sure a single, rare female visitor was not reason enough for them to clean it. Scared of seeing a rotten lizard next time, I put my brain to good use and came up with a brilliant idea on my next visit. Next to the female washroom is another bathroom with a printed sticker, "VIP." Luckily for me, both washrooms are accessible through the same keys, and I started using the VIP restroom henceforth. The bathroom was clearly VIP in the sense that it had a big mirror, a working faucet, and, most importantly, no dead lizard. That, my friends, is how I experienced my first VIP moment at the jobsite.
I may have kept the truth to myself at that site. But I had a very heartwarming moment at another jobsite. It was past 7 P.M. when we finished our presentation, and I had to use the restroom before I left. I asked the PM for the keys to the female restroom. He told me the housekeeping akka would have it and called her. But it was beyond her shift time, so she had already left. The PM and I were searching for the keys in a huge pile. I was almost at the verge of bursting, so I told him I would check the bathroom once, in case by any chance it was left unlocked. Anyway, it was locked as usual. But seeing me pace restlessly, a guy asked me what the matter was. I could barely say two words. However, he sensed it must be something important and probed me further. Finally, I mustered the courage and asked him if I could use the men's room, as I could not find the keys for the female washroom. Without missing a beat, he told me to use it right away. At that moment, I briefly joined the "Not-all-men" gang.
People I talk to usually assume that field roles are tiring for women because they require more travel, unlike the conventional desk jobs. But the most challenging part is finding a usable washroom at least 3 times a day. It is with great expertise, I have mentally prepared a database of "restrooms I can use" for almost every route of my regular commute.
A lot of times, we read about how constructing bathrooms made more women enroll in schools and colleges; how building restrooms improved the livelihood of women in rural areas; how, in some villages, women never get married into, due to lack of bathrooms. Never have I ever understood it more clearly than my own shenanigans with finding a bathroom amidst a sea of men.
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