On bathrooms

The drum is a standard part of the "modern" house. In a "traditional" house, there's not even a sink. It's pretty wild-say you're walking into a bathroom in the back right corner of the house. You'd expect there to be a sink with bar soap and maybe a hand pump, or a toothbrush holder and nail brush in a more intimate display, across from the door, a bath/shower in the furthest left corner, a toilet adjacent to it, TP on the wall, a towel rack in between the shower and sink, and a mat or two to keep tootsies warm.
Welcome to Thailand, right?
When you open the door, you face a mirror hung on a tile wall with various soaps around it--dishwashing fluid, dishwashing powder, a bar of handsoap, and maybe a bottle of shampoo. No sink, but a hose dropping from near the ceiling and capped with anything from a rubber band to an actual valve. There will likely be a towel rack, but this no more symbolizes its intended use than breathing indicates a wide conscientious streak. And even if there were a roll of toilet paper hung on the hanger, it would disintegrate in the humidity.
The far left side will be an elevated dais. Depending on the social status, there will be one or two big tubs with anything from faucets to 2" plastic hoses coming from the gutters. A plastic scoop will float in at least one, within easy reach of the squatter pot, also on the dais. This pot is your water pump, essentially: it turns into the toilet-side sprayer hose, shower head, sink faucet, and rinse nozzle. And aside from the piping (presumably) to the septic tank, there is only one drain in the middle of the floor.

There's a halfway step with a pressurized nozzle next to the toilet and a shower head on the other end of a T junction. During the hot season, or at times of need, locals will strip down, take a quick rinse off, and go back about the day.
And if you don't have hangups about "DIRTY" and "Public Restroom," it makes perfect sense--when you have a buzz cut and wear poly clothes that look and feel the same dripping wet or bone dry, why wouldn't you want the chance to cool off at any given place on any given 110 degree day?

That said, one of the most resounding lessons I have learned is an appreciation for public restrooms as accessible and clean as they are in the US. We're a finicky and persnickety bunch, but at least you know where to go in times of gastrointestinal distress. And cleanliness I can't tackle in the here and now.
Let's say that even in the cleanest of facilities over here, I had ample opportunity to observe, in great detail, the physiology and especially antennae motility of cockroaches.
Kinda like seeing an ant on your food: there's some distant memory that revolts, another part that says, "so? It's protein" and an unconscious reaction to brush it off.

Funny how things change: I caught myself commenting on how much they cleaned up the bathroom for us farangs: now there's running water, the door can be jimmied almost all the way shut, and the squatter pot is mainly white. Granted, the sink isn't attached to the wall, and we won't go into the smell or the sprays of stuff all across the upper reaches of the walls, but they did a good job polishing it up.