I hadn't planned on blogging during this six-week trip that we are taking to South America - the first couple of weeks have been pretty internet-light, and that's before we even get to Bolivia, where I've heard that even heat is a rarity - but then I saw this squat toilet and thought, wellll, there are certain things the world deserves to see.
I have a long, somewhat torrid history with squat toilets (see Squat Toilet: Still Not Owned and even better than set or scrabble, among others), so it's with some degree of certainty that I say that this squat toilet was fucking terrifying. Sure, that picture looks innocent enough - you might argue that, hey, it's far from the tents and at least there's a weighted shower curtain in place to give some semblance of privacy.
Here is what's next door. I visited the toilet for the first time after dark and could not figure out where the oinking was coming from. You know what's not fun? Worrying about a pig charging you when your pants are around your ankles. I was pretty certain that the pig had been in some sort of pen, but in the morning I noticed that there were stone steps leading out of the pen to freedom.
In any case, I can handle a pig. What I can't handle is fearing that I'll fall 15 ft through the planks into a giant cesspool of diarrhea. Which is exactly what happened every time I tried to position my feet onto two wobbly planks of wood balancing precariously on some wobbly logs. Michael actually discovered that the front plank slides back and forth. WTF??
No comments:
Post a Comment