Adventures in the Choo

The choo is a pit latrine, or a hole in the ground for pooping and peeing. My family's personal choo is located outside, and is made of entirely wood, except the flooring is a type of cement surface. It also has no lock, and most of the walls are covered in spider webs.

The choo smells bad. Once, I made the mistake of bringing a nearly-finished orange in with me to pee, and the whiff of decaying fecal matter produced a gag reflex.

The first time I ever pooped in a choo, I was simultaneously frightened of pooping on my pants, missing the hole, and falling over. I luckily have the fantastic, God-given skill of being able to plug my nose without using my hands, so my hands were free to securely anchor myself to the bug-infested, wooden door during that first poop. As a fun fact: back in the states, I used to really enjoy reading something while sitting on the john, but now that's no longer a luxury I can afford.

The second time I ever used the choo, it was very early in the morning so the sun had not yet risen. With me was a flashlight, a roll of toilet paper, and a travel bottle of hand sanitizer. As I opened the wooden door and shined my light inside the darkness, a small bat (or extremely large butterfly) flew out at me, circled a couple of times, and disappeared into the darkness. This incident almost literally scared the crap out of me. I instinctively moved in spastic fashion, simultaneously shining my headlamp in all directions and furiously wiping my body with my hands as if I were covered in ants.

Since these incidents, I have become more or less an expert at using the choo. I can squat without holding on to anything now (how thankful I am to Sean Hutchinson's swimming warm-ups), and I haven't yet been attacked by large insects. One time, I did make the mistake of shining my flashlight down the choo, and I was able to see the textured landscape of my home-stay family and my collective waste. I have not yet made that mistake twice.

Wild animal siting update: Just outside Loitokitok, I saw antelope in the distance (June 28, 2010).

On one of my usual runs, my friend and I were attacked by a pack of 6 dogs. Luckily we both came away unscathed, but I felt the dogs hitting the backs of my shoes as I fled. I have never run so quickly away in my life. These dogs were undoubtedly trained to keep unwanted trespassers away, so my friend and I no longer run that route anymore. The dogs here are beautiful though, and so are the donkeys.