And how are the bathrooms in Vietnam?

I think it's funny how after my trip to Vietnam so many Taiwanese people asked me if the toilets in Vietnam were as bad as the ones in Mainland China as if Chinese bathrooms were the gauge to determine the level horrific sanitary conditions in the world. I've never been to the mainland so I really can't compare but I did come across some pretty interesting washrooms along the way.

En route to Hoi An from Mui Ne on a narrow mountain pass in the middle of the night, beeping, veering past trucks in our overcrowded tourist bus with children hanging out of their seats and people sleeping in the aisles, we pause at a rest stop along the way. Everybody's gotta go to the John but the foreboding question hovers in the back of women's minds, "Are the bathrooms clean?"
"YES! Yes they are!" The place was most likely built specifically for tourists since the restaurant looks fairly tidy for a diner in the middle of no where.

It was only until the next morning when we stopped again at a another pit stop did we encounter restrooms that repelled us. I open the door and it's an empty tiled room with a tiny spigot where I think water comes out and a small hole in the corner for a drain. That's it. No toilet, not even a squatter. I close the door. Hmm. I go to the next stall. It's the same thing. What do I do? I look at this other white tourist woman near me and she looks back at me with the same perplexed look. Hey, I gotta go so I enter the stall. I pee on my feet. Gross!! I guess that's what the faucet is for, to wash the pee off your feet. Oh, now everything makes sense.

On another occasion while in the countryside of Ninh Binh we get off a bus and of course I have to go to the bathroom. At the little shop where we rented our bicycles, I kindly ask the owner, a little elderly Vietnamese woman if I could use her toilet. She brings me to the back of the store, where her family lives, to a wooden shack with a corrugated steel roof the size of a small closet. I open the door. I see a bucket of overflowing coal in the corner. The floor is made of some wooded planks haphazardly spread across the ground. The strangest thing was that there was a wooden stake coming out of the ground up to my waist right smack in the middle of the little room. There was barely enough room to squat. What the hell am I suppose to do here? I pee on my feet again but this time there wasn't a convenient faucet to wash it off. I open the door and walk past a plastic container of water and quickly scoop some up and throw it on my feet. I was ready to roll.