A typical Japanese toilet is a very small booth with a door that opens inwardly. I still do not know where one is intended to stand to close the door once inside. I chose the top of the water tank. The commode itself consists of a porcelain slit in the floor with a higher tier in what I think is the front, dropping to a deeper basin in the rear. It is not as if one can take a teacher inside, so one focuses their native intelligence on the setting, and when they think they have the concept down, dives in. An unfortunate, but in my case accurate, choice of words.
I do not think our anatomy differs greatly from the Japanese. But, alas, it turns out that, recalcitrant old knees aside, there are critical distances to measure, angles of trajectory to calculate, and, most importantly, delicate points of balance to consider. I will spare you further detail by saying only that whatever lofty heights of personal potential I might one day achieve, I will remain humbled by the memory of that experience.