The Mystery of the Italian Bidet

A Foreigner's Confession

It might be interesting to share how we pulled off living in Italy for part of the year. I will post some steps and what we are learning along the way.

We love every minute of it, and what was once a dream is now our life!

We live in Tuscany in the fall, return again in the spring, and spend the rest of the time in California.

Step 1: Today's mystery

In a previous blog I wrote about the mystery of the Italian washing machine, and in another I tackled the mystery of the missing toilet seat.

Today the subject is the bidet, that low porcelain basin you will find in nearly every Italian bathroom, sitting next to the toilet and leaving most foreign visitors scratching their heads — or scratching something else.

Step 2: The first encounter

The first time I saw a bidet, I was a young traveler with a light suitcase, cheap accommodations, and no easy way to do laundry. I walked into a small Italian bathroom and there it was, a low porcelain basin next to the toilet, with running water and what seemed to be just the right height for washing things.

To me the purpose was obvious. This was for washing out my socks and underwear, and it was much better than using the bathroom sink, since I did not have to share with the toothbrushes.

I scrubbed my laundry, wrung it out, hung it on the radiator, and went to bed pleased with my discovery.

Step 3: The Rome years

Later I lived in a student dormitory/apartment in Rome, and for the first time I had my own bathroom with my own bidet. I continued the practice I had worked out as a traveler, washing my socks, T-shirts, and the occasional handwashable item in the bidet whenever I needed to.

This went on for quite a while, and I had no reason to question what I was doing.

Step 4: The colleague's revelation

Then one day an Italian colleague, in the course of a casual conversation, explained what the bidet was actually for.

I looked at him incredulously, and he looked at me incredulously, and there was a long pause while we both reconsidered everything we thought we knew about each other.

I asked him, "Why not just jump in the shower?" He asked me, "Why not just use the bidet?" It was a stalemate.

Step 5: But still, why?

I have to admit that though I now have some understanding of the concept of the bidet, I still don't quite get it.

If I need to wash something, I jump in the shower, because that is what showers are for, and they wash everything in one go. Why install a second appliance specifically for one small region of the anatomy?

My colleague's answer was that the shower is for the whole body, while the bidet is for the targeted region multiple times a day, without having to commit to a full shower each time. I understand the logic, but I still do not do it. The shower remains my one-stop solution.

Step 6: Another cultural viewpoint

To be fair, I should give the Italians and other cultures their due, because for them this is not a mystery — it is basic hygiene, as ordinary as brushing your teeth. The bafflement from their side runs the other direction: how does the rest of the world manage without one?

And Italy is not the only country where the bidet is still common. It remains in regular use in Portugal, Spain, Greece, parts of the Balkans, Turkey, Japan, Argentina, Uruguay, and much of the Middle East.

The bidet is required by law in Italy. A Ministerial Decree issued on July 5, 1975, Article 7, states that every Italian home must contain at least one bathroom equipped with a toilet, a bidet, a bathtub or shower, and a sink.

This is not a recommendation. The Certificato di Agibilità, the document that certifies a home is fit for occupancy, depends on it. No bidet means no certificate, and no certificate means the home cannot easily be sold.

The custom predates the law, and the custom made the law possible. A friend here explained the logic to me, and it's hard to argue with: why go to the trouble of a full shower every time, when a quicker clean-up will do? The bidet handles that in between — fast, targeted, no water heater required.

It also uses far less water overall. On a hot summer afternoon, when standing under the water again would be overkill, a quick visit to the bidet does the job without burning through half an hour and a tank of hot water.

What surprises most people is that the bidet was not invented in Italy. It was invented in France in the early 1700s, originally for the personal hygiene of the aristocracy. The word "bidet" is old French for "pony," because to use one you would straddle it.

The French passed it along to Italy through aristocratic households, and over the centuries the two countries quietly swapped roles: France gradually drifted away from the bidet, while Italy doubled down. Today Italian bidets are an export industry.

Still, Italy stands apart. It is the only country in the world where more than three-quarters of bathrooms have a bidet. And looked at globally, the bidet-free bathroom, standard in the United States and most of the English-speaking world, is the unusual case rather than the norm.

Insights

Since I learned what the bidet is actually for, I have not been able to bring myself to wash my socks in it again.

But the whole bidet question opens up something larger. The fact that different cultures approach the same things differently does not mean that one way is better or worse, right or wrong. It just means that cultures evolve differently, and over time they arrive at different answers to the same everyday questions.

And those differences, even when they leave me scratching my head, are part of what makes living overseas an adventure.

More next time.

If you enjoy this kind of look at Italian life, you may enjoy my book — which finds the same magic in Rome and beyond, through the people who live there and the ones who lived there long ago.

She Seduced Me: A Love Affair with Rome — a book of Italian life, culture, and history, told through my own experience of the city, interviews with Romans and street performers, and the stories of figures like Caravaggio and the senators of ancient Rome.

"Brings the city lying behind the tourist façade to life." — LibraryThing review

https://www.amazon.com/She-Seduced-Me-Love-Affair/dp/B0D9L7CJ8R