In case you need coaching. From Koh Lanta, Thailand.
My toilet looked like a Jackson Pollock painting.
A palette of tropical colors speckled the inside – and outside – of the can.
I wasn’t sitting on my throne for 10 seconds before I had to violently twist my body at a wicked angle.
To contort myself.
To projectile vomit into the bowl.
Except this time, nothing exited my body.
Tapped out.
Bone dry.
Which was a horrifying thing.
This meant I was almost completely dehydrated.
1 hour later I was whisked to the emergency room in Muhamma, India, enduring the most excruciatingly agonizingly bumpy tuk tuk ride.
2 days later I began a slow, grueling recovery.
My gastrointestinal tract can tell some STORIES, lemme tell ya!
And it shall tell 5 such stories today.
With my assistance.
1: The Muhamma Episode
I almost died in Muhamma, India.
Because I contracted giardia and became dangerously dehydrated, and came within a few days of biting the Big One.
Didn’t eat for nearly a week.
Couldn’t keep water down for days.
This was AFTER a trip to the emergency room and GAINING 3 to 5 pounds in Muhamma, India.
Projectile liquid from both ends.
When things were good, my toilet bowl looked like a liquid version of Fruity Pebbles.
I’ll leave it at that.
2: Macchu Pukko
I nearly had to crawl on all 4s, like a drunk, defeated dog, to tell the tour operator I warn’t gonna make it to my Machu Picchu trip.
I walked outside in 31 degree (Fahrenheit, non US folks, Fahrenheit) temps wearing a pair of shorts.
No shoes.
No shirt.
No tour service for me. That day.
After crawling 4 floors back up to my apartment I vomited the remnants of whatever I had consumed the 3 days prior.
Either food poisoning or poor judgment after getting high on coca tea (I did NOT get coked out) led to a violent case of da pukes.
I was huddled over the toilet, hugging the bowl for dear life as a Skittles-like jambalaya of colors and consistencies spewed from my mouth.
This was only a 2 day affair.
1 day for Machu Puking.
1 day for a pretty swift recovery.
3: Outdoor Toilet
Kelli: “Where is the bathroom?”
Bus Driver: “Outdoor toilet.”
Kelli: “Where’s that??”
Bus Driver: “Anywhere.”
The prior dialog transpired on a bus ride from Kerala to Chennai, India.
We went….anywhere.
Which has been the experience on any bus trip through India.
Even though rest stops were available I often preferred Nature.
Because the 1 restroom I entered – which was “serviced” – well, I was met with a large snake crawling through the window and a pee latrine that hadn’t seen running water since Mahatma Gandhi freed India.
I passed.
For a collection of well-placed bushes.
4: Explicit Instructions in Koh Lanta Thailand
You saw the picture above.
Kelli snapped this image at the bathroom in Koh Lanta, Thailand.
Explicit, the Thai are.
No beating around the bummy bush.
Just defecate on it.
Pour water on the defecation.
Be fair to your neighbor.
A courtesy pour?
I only used a squat toilet once.
Not a life or death situation.
Just a squat toilet or Pampers moment.
After using the squat I thanked the gods we always pack toilet paper for our travels through remote areas.
5: Using an Outhouse in the Remote Costa Rican Jungle
Homeowner/Hut Owner: “So, how’s the outhouse situation working for ya?”
Me: “I’m squatting over my and my wife’s feces for the last month whenever I need to drop an Arkansas Steamer or Texas Yule Log, but other than that, everything’s pretty good.” (I may have embellished my response.)
We used a vile, nauseating, gag-worthy outhouse when living 3 miles deep into the jungles around Bribri, Costa Rica.
Whether peeing or pooping, we trekked to a rickety old structure often surrounded by bullet ants, and not 5 feet from a log pile no doubt inhabited by snakes and scorpions.
Note; I first spotted the colony of 5,000 army ants which went on a murderous rampage through the house/hut when on the faux crapper. Something benign happened there.
After nightfall, rather than walk 50 feet to the outhouse, in a remote jungle TEEMING with fer de lanzes, eyelash vipers and other lethal, violent, aggressive and downright nasty snakes, I just dug a hole, filled the hole and covered it up, since the dog routinely ate sh*t sandwiches when folks didn’t cover it up (The homeowner told me).
When we left this freeing, enlightening and sometimes brutal sit, I sprinted past the outhouse.
Never looked back.
Have you had any…..intriguing toilet experiences during your travels?
Or at home?
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