Icon by The Lighthouse, a center for architecture and design in Glasgow

You’re trekking in Nepal, touring the Russian Steppes, or just out for a long day of siteseeing. It’s not that the toilets are terrible. It’s that there are no toilets, period. And you’re on yours.

Or that murky coffee from a street vendor has kicked in and is kicking your butt, literally. The need to relieve yourself is so strong you’re sweating and trembling. What do you do? Pop a squat behind a bush or parked car? Use your visa to wipe yourself?

When you do find a toilet abroad, what’s your procedure? The ways we relieve ourselves in public toilets say everything about our upbringing and attitudes. Would you never in a million years let your flesh touch a public toilet seat? Are your thigh muscles like iron from years of hovering? Or do you “feather your nest,” carefully layering toilet paper onto the seat?

And what do toilets say about the country they’re in? In “Toilets of the World,” Morna Gregory and Sion James write: “The variety of toilets in different countries is astounding. Toilets often (though not always) reflect the development of a given country or region via design, placement, material and mechanics. Aren’t toilets the same everywhere? In a limited geographical area, perhaps. On an international scale, toilets are very, very different.”

Tell us your stories. Share your tactics. And come back to the site often to see what other people have to say.