Toilets

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About four years ago, when I first talked with my wife Karen about the calling I felt to go to China, I had figured that the only way to get there was to go as an English teacher.  I did some internet searches and found one teacher placement agency that I really liked, because they tried to make sure that we would really understand what we were getting into.  One interesting topic was called "squat" toilets. Then, since Karen is the partner in this duo with her feet on the ground while my head's in the clouds, we did the practical thing and applied to the Peace Corps, so that we would have organizational support while overseas.  (Not to mention insurance coverage and a possibly naive comfort in the expectation that the U.S. Marine Corps would know what prison camp we were in if it came to that.)  Although China was calling, we agreed to a Peace Corps tentative assignment to the Transcaucasus Region of the former Soviet Union--Armenia, Georgia, or Azerbaijan.  It would seem that the Peace Corps just couldn't overlook the fact that I'd learned Russian in the Army. There were some non-life-threatening health issues that precluded Karen from joining the Peace Corps.  But I married the right woman, and she told me to go to China by myself to get the country out of my system.  So here I am.

I made a passing mention of the fact that my apartment has a "Western" toilet, and a good friend from the West Coast asked tongue-in-cheek whether I was talking about the type of toilet he had in his bathroom.  I was and I wasn't.  Over there on the left is the toilet from my apartment.  It's what I call a "Western" toilet.

Humor me, and tell yourself what you think these two fellows are doing?

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