In the beginning, there was a hole. And someone took a dump there. And wiped his own hole with his hand…or perhaps with some leaves. Thus the first toilet was born. Can you hear the opening music to the film 2001 ? Of course, that bathroom ritual still exists in many parts of the world today. But in Europe and North America, among other places, we’ve reached the pinnacle of bathroom technology and hygiene; we’ve got flushable toilets and oh-so-soft triple-ply paper.
Upon first glance at any bathroom in Colombia and Venezuela, you probably wouldn’t be able to detect any differences. Sink and faucet : check. Flushable toilet : check. Toilet paper : check. Little trash bin : check. But there is a difference. It’s in the pipes. In this part of the world, the pipes aren’t exactly the same caliber as back home. Oh, they can handle just fine the peepee and the caca…but not the paperpaper. That little brown-streaked paper goes in the little trash bin next to the toilet.
And you might expect that this little bathroom would be the foulest smelling room in the world. You might expect it to be crawling and overflowing with flies and maggots. You might expect to get wicked constipation from tightening your anus and avoiding all the bathrooms of Latin America. Those would be reasonable expectations. But you’d be wrong. In fact, it’s usually odorless, and certainly smells no worse than any other room in the house. And I can’t even begin to explain it. I've seen those bins overflowing with brown paper, but not overflowing with stink. I don’t get it; my olfaction doesn't get it. I guess it’s just one of life’s pleasant mysteries.
Upon first glance at any bathroom in Colombia and Venezuela, you probably wouldn’t be able to detect any differences. Sink and faucet : check. Flushable toilet : check. Toilet paper : check. Little trash bin : check. But there is a difference. It’s in the pipes. In this part of the world, the pipes aren’t exactly the same caliber as back home. Oh, they can handle just fine the peepee and the caca…but not the paperpaper. That little brown-streaked paper goes in the little trash bin next to the toilet.
And you might expect that this little bathroom would be the foulest smelling room in the world. You might expect it to be crawling and overflowing with flies and maggots. You might expect to get wicked constipation from tightening your anus and avoiding all the bathrooms of Latin America. Those would be reasonable expectations. But you’d be wrong. In fact, it’s usually odorless, and certainly smells no worse than any other room in the house. And I can’t even begin to explain it. I've seen those bins overflowing with brown paper, but not overflowing with stink. I don’t get it; my olfaction doesn't get it. I guess it’s just one of life’s pleasant mysteries.
No comments:
Post a Comment