Interestingly enough, while I was writing this entry, I Googled "poop in a hole" and one of the first suggestions on the search bar was "poop in a hole peace corps." I'm glad Google understands that this matter is always trending in a PCVs life.
"We all float down here and when you're down here, you'll float too." - Pennywise the dancing clown from Steven King's IT
I know it's disgusting but there's no other way to talk about this. Your survival in a rural area depends on knowing the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. You've heard the saying "everyone bleeds blood"? Well, guess what? Everyone poops too. It's one of humanity's universal truths. Beautiful people, average-looking people; Black, White, Brown; religious, non-religious; the rich and the poor. As a person traveling around rural parts of a country, whether you're working in the field for years or just visiting for a week, you might have to poop in a hole.
When I was younger, my curiosity led me to discover outhouses. Looking out of the window of our car during out epic migration trips from New York to South Carolina, I'd spot tiny, wooden, lean-to shacks on the sides of houses. "What are those?," I'd ask my parents. One of my parents would jokingly answer: "Outhouses: you run in and you run out." Outhouses were an historical relic meant to be talked about in reference to the "olden days," not something that I foresaw myself using in the future. However, in my time as a health worker in Zambia, I've come to embrace the pit latrine as an old friend; a useful tool in teaching about water and sanitation and a source for many fun stories to gross out family and friends (love you guys!).
If you, the brave soul reading this, would like details about how to "manage" using a pit latrine from my perspective, I'd be more than happy to speak with you about it after you sign my lifetime confidentiality agreement. However, I voluntarily give you my most useful tips for surviving when the "spirit" moves you:
Believe it or not, it's not even as frightening as I've purposely written in this entry of my Encyclopedia Dramatica. Just listen to any soldier's account of their own Call of Duty and you'll soon realize using one goes from being awkward to a normal necessity in no time.
In rural Zambia, there is an "etiquette" to using a pit latrine. You do not announce your visit to the bathroom. No one wants to know what business you have with the Latrine Goddess. A simple "Excuse me"-walk away maneuver will suffice. In the event that you do have to ask where the nearest bathroom is, come right out and say it: "Can you tell me where the toilet is?" No one really uses the term "restroom" or, in a female's case, "ladies' room," so you'll just get quizzical looks until you explain what you mean. When you've found the latrine, don't just barge in, lest you want to find an unsuspecting victim to assault with your presence. Here, a common phrase you would say is "Hodi?" while slowly approaching the latrine to make sure the coast is clear. Once you're in, relax, relate, and release.
God speed.
 |
| Party time! |
"We all float down here and when you're down here, you'll float too." - Pennywise the dancing clown from Steven King's IT
I know it's disgusting but there's no other way to talk about this. Your survival in a rural area depends on knowing the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. You've heard the saying "everyone bleeds blood"? Well, guess what? Everyone poops too. It's one of humanity's universal truths. Beautiful people, average-looking people; Black, White, Brown; religious, non-religious; the rich and the poor. As a person traveling around rural parts of a country, whether you're working in the field for years or just visiting for a week, you might have to poop in a hole.
When I was younger, my curiosity led me to discover outhouses. Looking out of the window of our car during out epic migration trips from New York to South Carolina, I'd spot tiny, wooden, lean-to shacks on the sides of houses. "What are those?," I'd ask my parents. One of my parents would jokingly answer: "Outhouses: you run in and you run out." Outhouses were an historical relic meant to be talked about in reference to the "olden days," not something that I foresaw myself using in the future. However, in my time as a health worker in Zambia, I've come to embrace the pit latrine as an old friend; a useful tool in teaching about water and sanitation and a source for many fun stories to gross out family and friends (love you guys!).
If you, the brave soul reading this, would like details about how to "manage" using a pit latrine from my perspective, I'd be more than happy to speak with you about it after you sign my lifetime confidentiality agreement. However, I voluntarily give you my most useful tips for surviving when the "spirit" moves you:
- Never be caught off guard: try carrying a paper-like substance with you (newspaper is ok) wherever you go. You don't want to run the risk of "itchy butt syndrome" because you used the wrong plant as a wiper
- Those hip-hop songs might've taught you something useful after all: "Drop down" and "Get low" ..."all the way to the flo'"
- If you see (or hear) something, say something: Someone can help you get those goats out of the pit latrine or knock down that wasp nest so you won't get stung multiple times (No, that never happened to me...)
- Whatever you do: Do NOT. LOOK. DOWN. THE. HOLE! I repeat, Do NOT look down the hole. Kapish? Your vision will never be the same again.
Believe it or not, it's not even as frightening as I've purposely written in this entry of my Encyclopedia Dramatica. Just listen to any soldier's account of their own Call of Duty and you'll soon realize using one goes from being awkward to a normal necessity in no time.
In rural Zambia, there is an "etiquette" to using a pit latrine. You do not announce your visit to the bathroom. No one wants to know what business you have with the Latrine Goddess. A simple "Excuse me"-walk away maneuver will suffice. In the event that you do have to ask where the nearest bathroom is, come right out and say it: "Can you tell me where the toilet is?" No one really uses the term "restroom" or, in a female's case, "ladies' room," so you'll just get quizzical looks until you explain what you mean. When you've found the latrine, don't just barge in, lest you want to find an unsuspecting victim to assault with your presence. Here, a common phrase you would say is "Hodi?" while slowly approaching the latrine to make sure the coast is clear. Once you're in, relax, relate, and release.
God speed.
