Number of People with Nothing Better to Do

Saturday, September 19, 2009

TMI (Mom – That’s how kids these days say “too much information”)

Warning – The contents of this posting should not be read by anyone under the age of 13, females (especially hot ones), family members, current girlfriends, past girlfriends, fellow Peace Corps trainees, current Peace Corps Volunteers or anyone else for that matter.  It’s about going number two.  So far since I've been in Peru everyone’s been telling me that I’m going to get sick, it’s just a matter of time.  Now I didn’t get full on sick last night but let’s just call it a warning shot across the bow.  So far the food’s been great.  I've been drinking clean water and practicing your good sanitary habits.  Something however got a hold of me last night.  About two o’clock, I woke to some strange noises (it wasn’t the minor tremor we had but that’s a different posting).

Anyway, I felt a strange sensation in my in my belly and realized that’s where the noises were coming from.  It wasn’t a rumble or even a gurgle.  It was much more than that, something more sinister, something not of this world.  It sounded a bit like Godzilla and Mothra duking it out in my transcending colon.  My belly felt bloated and distended like the children in those Sally Struthers commercials.  It hurt.  Alot.  Something was in me and needed to get out. 

Now, I’ve only taken a piss in my host family’s bathroom in large part because I don’t know how to work the toilet (not a good feature for a water and sanitation trainee).  Either way, the being within was going to come out one way or another so I got out of bed, put on my sandals, turned on the light and hobbled down the stairs doubled over in excruciating pain.  I made it to the bathroom with teeth and other parts clenched only to find there was no toilet paper (or papel higienico or PH as they call it here).  Fuck!  Now what?!  I remembered seeing some in the kitchen somewhere.  None!  Fuck!! And then I saw some on the cupboard.  Back to the restroom and sweet, sweet release.  A liquid exorcism.  Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me... 

I cleaned up and stood there looking at this aborted alien in the toilet.  Now what?  I had some vague notion how to flush the toilet and the best I could figure you grab a small bucket, scoop some water out of this 55 gallon drum and just pour it in the toilet and it goes away right?  Hadn’t before but I tried it and it sort of took care of business, well not really at all.  Tried another bucket.  Little better.  Maybe dilution is the solution to my pollution.  Then I had the brilliant idea of holding down the handle and then pouring in the water.  Voila!  Eureka!  That took care of it!  Thank God and sweet baby Jesus and Ganesha and Apu (you crazy Peruvian mountain god) for sending me this trial and tribulation (now cut that shit out).

I went back to bed, my entire digestive track quivering with relief and delight and a lone tear trickling down my face.

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