Back in my intercultural studies in 1997, we had a "jungle camp" with Wycliffe, in the bush outside Melbourne. One thing they made us do, apart from hand in our watches (to forget about time schedules) was to use an out house. The out house had a bucket in it. There was a roster so everyone could have a turn to dig a hole to bury our sewage. At the time it was explained that we needed to learn that various cultures have different toilet practices.
What they failed to teach us, is the simple method of squatting. Of course there was still a toilet seat for us to sit on. Much of the world squats. I first learned this a year later when traveling through China on my first trip to Russia. At the time I was surprised to learn that there were also squat toilets in some public places in Russia, even though the apartments we stayed in all had ceramic uprights.
I even had a trip to a village on that my first Siberian adventure, but the American family I stayed with had a ceramic upright. I was not stretched that time.
On subsequent visits to villages in Russia, this being my seventh, I have learnt the art of squatting. It's not something you get used to quickly or feel comfortable about. The last couple times have been Summer trips with mosquitoes and bugs flying around everywhere. I'm so thankful that the weather is cool enough now to keep the bugs down.
I had been hoping that perhaps Yura and Alona might have plumbing in their house, as some house do in towns of this size. Well it turns out that there is plumbing here. It is connected in the kitchen, but not the bathroom. So trips to the outhouse in the middle of the night can still be required.
What I have found more surprising is that village dwelling Russians don't really even like having a toilet inside. We have friends that tell us, that although they have a toilet inside, they only use it in the Winter. They prefer not to have the smell in the house.
One step further, our team mate was hosting a village person from Altai in southern Siberia. This person spoke of his discomfort at using such a toilet inside. He wanted to know if our friends (who have a house) had an out door squat. The very idea of going inside the house was disgusting to him.
Ahh culture, you gotta love it!

2 comments:
oh, have I got a story to tell you! I probably won't here though, as my cultural discomfort might offend those to whom it refers...
Which country are they from? Monrovia? :)They probably don't even read my blog.
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