“Elimination training” is a fancy term used by hip parenting circles in the West. It describes an age-old Eastern custom designed to toilet train children as early as possible. With the use of cue sounds, like whistles or hissing, infants are taught to empty their bladders and bowels over bowls and buckets until they’re old enough to squat over toilets. This method has been used for centuries by many world cultures and it’s also the most environmental option.
Here in China, this training is alive and well. Split pants and dangling baby bums are held over small dirt squares beneath trees lining the roadways. Chinese kids are purportedly able to squat on their own by the time they’re able to walk.
Impressive.
When my daughter was born, I was excited to start this training right away. But my excitement was greeted with the new economic reality of China, one in which many people can afford disposable diapers – proudly.
My husband is from a family who survived the Cultural Revolution, worked their backs sore, and then made some good investments. They represent the growing middle class of China that has conservatively taken advantage of modern economic openings while steadfastly remaining frugal. My mother-in-law is willing to walk an extra 20 minutes for tomatoes that are a few mao cheaper, for example.
So when our daughter – their first grandchild – was born, I expected we’d tag team the Chinese elimination training right away. As back-up, I bought great reusable diaper covers from Canada and my mother-in-law bought the fabric in bulk in China, cutting the pieces of cloth inserts herself. They were all washed, folded and stacked symmetrically when our wee one arrived home from the hospital.
But my plan was snagged.
None of the reusable diapers would fit her right away because she was too small. Also, friends of the Chinese side of our family arrived with bags upon bags of disposable diapers as gifts for the newborn, which did fit. Compared to the average local wages, such an extravagant gift represented great generosity on behalf of the gift giver.
Reluctantly, I agreed to use the newborn disposables for the first month until she was large enough to fit the reusable ones, with the caveat that we start the training immediately afterward.
A month went by in a postpartum haze before I realized I was the only one intent on the training.
“Her skin is better off with the disposables. It keeps the moisture off. Besides, we can afford to do it this way,” they said, with self-satisfied grins.
Economic pride trumped tradition? Skin protection trumped environmental protection?
The haze lifted, and I put the disposables in the back of the cupboard. Or so I thought.
That week, her reusable diaper would be replaced by another disposable one. Citing their negative environmental impact on her future was proving too abstract a counter argument.
Finally, they argued that this mixed-race child should follow Western traditions, which includes disposable diapers, after all. I laughed at this, knowing I’d just been handed my trump card. “You mean, here in China, you want to teach her to make all the same mistakes that we Westerners have made?”
And the next day, my mother-in-law was holding our daughter over a bucket and she was peeing on cue.
You should have seen their proud faces.
This article is excerpted from beijingkids September 2012 issue. View it in PDF form here or contact distribution@beijing-kids.com to find out where you can pick up your free copy.
