How To Pee in the Woods (for Women)

I have never before been in a place where peeing in a toilet is regarded as abnormal behavior, even frowned upon. But Dancing Rabbit is really not like any other place I have ever been. In fact, the whole bathroom situation at this ecovillage in northeastern Missouri requires a bit of an orientation. DR uses a composting toilet system based on the Humanure Handbook. As a visitor, this is the first thing you learn when arriving here.

Basically, human waste is collected in buckets that sit under regular, unassuming toilet lids. After you do your business, you cover it with sawdust from the bucket that sits next to the toilet. The system is easy to use, and in general it doesn't smell.



When the bucket is full, it is collected in another location and a new bucket becomes its replacement. When all the buckets are full, they are taken to a compost pile, where the waste inside is covered with straw and left to compost for two years. After that time, the compost is completely innocuous and can be used as fertilizer. (Due to the gross-out factor, it isn't used on crops for human consumption, though I have been told that to do so would be perfectly safe.)

Which brings me to the peeing. Those buckets are heavy. And pee makes them heavier. And smellier. And urine is actually totally clean as far as water contamination goes. For these reasons, as well as for convenience, people here prefer to pee outdoors. "You're welcome to pee in the composting toilets, but honestly most people here just go outside. As long as it's not on the paths, it's fine," my visitor liaison told me on my first morning here.

"You know," another DR member piped in, "a lot of women when they first get here are a little squeamish about peeing outside. If you want, I can show you some techniques."

How could I refuse such an offer?

What follows is an outdoor peeing primer with techniques modeled by Liat, DR's foremost expert on female urination. (Okay, I made that last part up, but it sounds cool, right?)

The Basic Squat



This technique is probably the best for beginners. It's a good idea to pull your pants forward and to watch out for your shoes. Liat warned me, however, that the Squat is not advisable during high tick season, especially when peeing in tall grass.

The One-Cheek Sneak



A variation on the Squat, this technique involves shifting your weight to one butt cheek for greater comfort. It's especially important here to watch your shoes.

The Lean



Reduces exposure during tick season. Also, I'm told, can be used in a man's urinal.

The Gender Bender

This technique requires the use of a tool, unless you happen to have special skills (which apparently some women do).



Using either a commercial tool (pictured) or a funnel with a hose on the end, a woman can stand and pee like a man.

The Skirt Squirt



This technique only works if you're naked or wearing a skirt. Imagine Liat wearing a skirt in this picture (this is a G-rated blog, okay?), and you'll get the idea.

The Karate Kid



Only for the truly adventurous, this technique is best practiced in the buff. Shown here in both the bent-leg and full-extension variations.

3 days at DR

Today will be my third full day at Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage. I arrived on Monday night totally strung out after my two-day train adventure. Luckily, I was given a space in the Common House to sleep, so I didn't have to attempt putting up my tent in the dark and in a complete stupor. They put me in the children's play room, where I arranged my camping mattress on top of a gymnastics mat and promptly passed out.

When I woke up, the Common House was bustling with activity. In the kitchen, people were preparing a breakfast for the visitors. Most people who live here do not have kitchens in their houses (though some do), so most people belong to a food co-op. There are at least 3 food co-ops that I have heard of so far. The co-ops purchase food together and share the responsibility of cooking meals for one another. The system, both in terms of its operation and in terms of the kind of food that is served, is stunningly similar to the co-op system in which I participated during college. Lots of whole grains, rice, beans, and vegetables. No meat, very little dairy.

That morning we took a tour around the property, looking at all that has been built here in the 11 years DR has been in existence. Members here have an agreement that they will only build with reclaimed or sustainably harvested materials, so homes are built out of discarded lumber and tin roofing from old barns, straw bales, bagged earth, cob (a mixture of sand, clay, and straw), and other natural materials. A couple of people live in a converted grain bin, and one person lives in a school bus. The school bus is my favorite dwelling I have seen so far.



There are solar panels everywhere. Most homes have them because DR is completely off the grid. As in, no electricity from outside. They use propane or wood-burning stoves to cook; the latter is more common in the winter when heating is also an issue.



My own home for the next three weeks is not nearly as cool as the school bus, but it will do. The nights are cool, and the crickets and cicadas are loud but soothing.

Train Travel

I am traveling by train from Philadelphia to southwestern Illinois, to a small town called Quincy. From Quincy, I will travel to the even smaller town of Rutledge in northeastern Missouri. Outside of Rutledge is Dancing Rabbit Eco-village, where I will be spending the next three weeks. I don’t know what to expect of my time at DR, but for now I am enjoying traveling by train. Crossing the country by train is extraordinarily inefficient. A trip that would take less than 3 hours on a plane takes an entire 24-hour day on a train. We stop everywhere. We travel to Chicago by way of every small town in Virginia, West Virginia, Kentucky, and Indiana. But while a plane ticket for this trip would likely cost several hundred dollars, my train ticket cost less than one hundred. And for that small sum, I am granted an entire day to read, write, listen to old episodes of This American Life and conjecture about my fellow passengers.

Who rides trains these days?, you may be wondering. I can answer this question. Elderly black ladies. They are the most well-represented demographic on Amtrak's Cardinal 51. Apart from them, there are families with young kids who run back and forth from the dining car. There are people who are either afraid of or opposed to airplanes. And there are people such as myself, who have lots of time and not a lot of money. I may be in the minority on this point, but I am proud to be a person with more time than money. On the train, I feel triumphant. How lucky I am, I think, to be able to afford to take my time.

I wonder about my fellow passengers. Are they also people who value time more than they value money? Or is train travel an unwanted inconvenience to them? Maybe, like me, they find trains romantic. The guy across the aisle from me certainly seems to. He is bragging to his seatmate about the “smokin’ hot” girl he met on the train last time he took this trip.

Apart from the luxurious expanse of time and the people-watching opportunities, there are a few other things I love about trains, things that make them far superior to planes in my opinion. First, no security. No annoying metal detectors. No regulations on liquids. No useless questions from bored airline personnel about who packed your bags. Second, no checked bags and plenty of overhead storage space. Third, electrical outlets in every seat. I am surrounded by a small army of electronics, all waiting their turn to be charged.

In about 20 hours I should be reaching Chicago. In another 20 I'll be at Dancing Rabbit.