The Real Reason for Getting in the Bathroom Line is not to Pee

An Ethnographic Observation

University College Maastricht

Ethnography Midterm
2019
Introduction
My original intent was to observe the ways in which people interact at house parties in
Maastricht, because I surely did not want to study people inside school. At that point they are
not people at all, they are students, and to me there is no substance in studying a person’s role
instead of the person themselves.
I was mostly going to focus on the dance floor, the smoking area, around the beer pong
table, and maybe even the bathroom line would be a fun idea, no? I formulated my research
question as follows: how do University College Maastricht students interact outside of the
academic environment, once exposed to drugs, music, and other factors situational to house
parties? I decided to try to answer this question, in the form of ethnography, by being a
participant observer at a friend’s birthday party taking place at his house and garden area.
Quickly into the night though, I found myself needing to use the toilet, and this was where the
real observation began.
The bathroom line had about ten people in it. So many people with small bladders that
the line ended up wrapping into a circle in the hallway so that those in the front were directly
facing those in the back on either wall. This made for a new way of socializing: where people
were forced to talk, laugh, and flirt with strangers. What made the entire concept even more
intriguing was that when I got halfway through the line, the five people in front of me all said that
I could go before them. They all seemed in agreement about this act of courtesy, and I couldn’t
understand why. I thanked them for their kindness though, used the toilet, and left.
Obviously that was not my last time having to go to the bathroom that night, so half an
hour later I found myself in the same line again. And what finally made me shift my research is
that the same five people who let me cut in front of them thirty minutes prior were still there. Still
talking, laughing, flirting. Still socializing, seemingly just for the sake of socializing. I couldn’t
help but change my research question to: how do University College Maastricht students
interact in the bathroom line at a house party, and what are the intentions behind the ways in
which they do it?
At the party
I walk into the familiar house on Volksplein, the only things with me are two pre-rolls and the
camouflage green liter bottle of water I carry around with me everywhere I go. I’ve been here
many times before. I know this house.
Tonight though, the house on Volksplein looks different. People are dancing, drinking,
smoking, playing games, talking, laughing, throwing up. Fairy lights blinking blue, red, purple are
strung on every wall. A tower of Schultan Brau crates are stacked against the kitchen wall,
getting shorter and shorter every hour. Outside in the garden are chairs placed in small circles,
a large ping pong table with red solo cups littered about– some upright and filled, others
knocked over and spilled, and a pitiful bonfire spitting a few flames from the work of kindling and
old pages of De Limburger stuffed in between. What is consistently present in every part of the
house are four things: people, music, clouds of smoke, and Schultan Braus. This was a perfect
house party.
In the bathroom line
I will now pick up from my second trip to the bathroom, where at this point I had seen again the
same five people standing in line and decided to shift the focus of my research, since the
reason for and which in which this was done is mentioned in my introduction.
The bathroom at the house on Volksplein is behind a skinny door in a narrow hallway.
The hallway starts at the front door where my friend and his housemates frantically run to and
fro to open up for more and more people, then it goes through the kitchen where the Schultan
Brau tower stands in all its majesty and inviting pull, and ends at the back door where the
garden starts and people gather to dance and play beer pong. Put simply, the bathromo lies in
the center of all comings and goings of the party.
There were a few consistent practices made by what I have dubbed the “toilet trolls”, or
those who came to the bathroom line with no intention of using the toilet. They were never at the
very front of the line nor at the very back. They always started conversation with others and they
always offered for those others to go before them to use the toilet. They always gave a
unanimous ‘yes’ when a new person would come into the area and ask if this was the bathroom
line and if they all actually needed to use the bathroom. They had a system of one troll at a time
leaving the line to get a round of beers and come back. And the troll always came back.
There were a few consistent practices made by real bathroom-liners. They always asked
if this was the bathroom line when they came into the area, presumably because they were not
expecting such a crowd. They never initiated conversation with others in line but were more
than happy to open up when the toilet trolls provoked them. And they often grew angry from the
long wait, yet this always turned into pleasant surprise as the five people in front of them would
offer the real bathroom-liner to go ahead.
I interviewed one toilet troll, who at first interaction denied her being in line without
needing to use the toilet. I exposed her lies, and she finally opened up to me in one sentence
why she and the other trolls choose to socialize in the bathroom line of all places at a house
party.
“Not everyone plays beer pong, not everyone smokes, not everyone likes to dance. But
you know what? Everyone needs to pee.”
Reflection on my relationship to the field
As mentioned previously, I know the house on Volksplein. The corridor, the kitchen, the attic, the
garden, the bathroom. The bathroom especially. Drinking liters of water every day from my
camouflage bottle comes with many benefits like hydration and beautiful skin, but also many
drawbacks like having to go to the toilet every half hour. In this case, it was no drawback at all.
Along with my needing to use the toilet quite often in life, I also find that I like to make
conversation with new people quite often too. I have been dubbed before as “addicted” to
friendship, and this was a definite benefit concerning my presence in the field. I was able to step
foot into the shoes of both real bathroom-liners and toilet trolls.
As for the drawbacks of my presence in the field, I contributed to the overcrowdedness
of the area and this discouraged some newcomers from entering the line. I also anegred those
who were in line and picked up on the fact that I and others did not need to use the toilet. This
made them less eager to answer my questions during informal interviewing.
Conclusion
During my study I came across a natural breeching experiment. No researcher had set it up. It
was born purely from the desire of youths to socialize. Toilet trolls deceive real bathroom-liners
to seem like one of them, and they do so to meet every type of person at a party. It is the purest
form of making friends, it gives them great satisfaction, and it gives me great substance to
research. In all actuality however, I was not a real researcher compared to these trolls. People
who go to the bathroom line with no intention of ever setting inside that bathroom are the real
ethnographers, the rawest versions of participant observers.