I am going to have thighs of steel from living in this country.
Lord, the bathrooms in the Dominican Republic.
No, you dare not sit.
There's no toilet lid.
And be damn sure you bring your own toilet paper or at least serviettes in your purse.
Last night, Papi and I went out to listen to some music and hang out with locals.
Well, that meant no purse.
Nothing that could be stolen.
No purse meant no toilet paper.
No toilet paper means it's time to drip dry.
But the squatting.
Yes, I am grateful I'm keeping up on my yoga, because I need that strength to use the washrooms here.
Then, it's most important to wash your hands after you've had your toilet squatting workout.
Oh, good luck with that.
I carry around hand sanitizer.
However, last night they had an interesting set up.
On the ground was a tap for buckets and hoses.
There was a small area to catch the overflow and a bucket for you to dip your hands in.
No, no thank you.
I think I'll take the fresh stuff.
Then there's the soap, in a container too big to lift.
Then you think, "But if I try to lift it, I'm touching the handle after the last person who had to squat in the toilet as well!"
Imagine the germs on that thing?!?!?!?
My O.C.D. brain had a HUGE battle of what to do.
I did it, because I figured I'd scrub until all those germs were gone.
Scrub and scrub and scrub I did, bent over, hoping none of the boys outside were trying to look up my skirt.
Oh, the bathrooms.
I think I had a bit of trauma from it last night, when I had a nightmare that we were moving things around in the house and it meant I had no loo anymore.
I was sure grateful when I woke up to my bathroom with toilet paper.
Grateful for a toilet that you can flush the toilet paper down, instead of placing it in the garbage can given to you, because the builder used tiny tubes, making the toilet paper get stuck and sewage floods abound.
We have a toilet seat, in which I know every bum that sits on it.
A sink with running water to rinse off the soap.
A towel to dry our hands.
You have never known gratitude for a bathroom until you've been in a developing country.
People in our village don't even have a toilet.
They walk down to the river and do business there.
Or, if they're too tired to walk that far, they pee on our wall.
Whatever.
With the amount of rain we get it will all be washed away.
It's just not nice to see a great big dump that you KNOW is human in the lane.
One of the kids stepped in it yesterday before I could scoop it up with a shovel.
Take a moment to give your bathroom a great big hug.
You don't know what you have.
Lord, the bathrooms in the Dominican Republic.
No, you dare not sit.
There's no toilet lid.
And be damn sure you bring your own toilet paper or at least serviettes in your purse.
Last night, Papi and I went out to listen to some music and hang out with locals.
Well, that meant no purse.
Nothing that could be stolen.
No purse meant no toilet paper.
No toilet paper means it's time to drip dry.
But the squatting.
Yes, I am grateful I'm keeping up on my yoga, because I need that strength to use the washrooms here.
Then, it's most important to wash your hands after you've had your toilet squatting workout.
Oh, good luck with that.
I carry around hand sanitizer.
However, last night they had an interesting set up.
On the ground was a tap for buckets and hoses.
There was a small area to catch the overflow and a bucket for you to dip your hands in.
No, no thank you.
I think I'll take the fresh stuff.
Then there's the soap, in a container too big to lift.
Then you think, "But if I try to lift it, I'm touching the handle after the last person who had to squat in the toilet as well!"
Imagine the germs on that thing?!?!?!?
My O.C.D. brain had a HUGE battle of what to do.
I did it, because I figured I'd scrub until all those germs were gone.
Scrub and scrub and scrub I did, bent over, hoping none of the boys outside were trying to look up my skirt.
Oh, the bathrooms.
I think I had a bit of trauma from it last night, when I had a nightmare that we were moving things around in the house and it meant I had no loo anymore.
I was sure grateful when I woke up to my bathroom with toilet paper.
Grateful for a toilet that you can flush the toilet paper down, instead of placing it in the garbage can given to you, because the builder used tiny tubes, making the toilet paper get stuck and sewage floods abound.
We have a toilet seat, in which I know every bum that sits on it.
A sink with running water to rinse off the soap.
A towel to dry our hands.
You have never known gratitude for a bathroom until you've been in a developing country.
People in our village don't even have a toilet.
They walk down to the river and do business there.
Or, if they're too tired to walk that far, they pee on our wall.
Whatever.
With the amount of rain we get it will all be washed away.
It's just not nice to see a great big dump that you KNOW is human in the lane.
One of the kids stepped in it yesterday before I could scoop it up with a shovel.
Take a moment to give your bathroom a great big hug.
You don't know what you have.
i am grateful for what i have
That would be... Yeah, that would be very difficult to get used to. It would require getting past some hang-ups.
ReplyDeleteit's brutal katy. the hovering! at least i've learned to bring my own paper ... but today was a hard one as the toilet was low for the kids!! good god!
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