Monday, February 08, 2010

Toilets of Rhodesia and other Number Twos of Notice: Part Four

Continuing the amazing and informative personal explanation of excreta expulsion across two continents of constant controversial continence…

In 1980 I would witness in Germany, a toilet that was so constructed as to have an ‘inspection plate’; a terminology coined by my fellow travelling Rhodie at the time. Instead of the poo plopping into the water (which occasionally would result in the awful ‘backsplash’, giving the strained brown eye a cold shower), it would lie on a flat part of the bowl to be looked at with biological interest.
Getting it down the well-hole was a different story. Depending on the diet, the shape, size and adhesive qualities; resulted in many ‘accidents’. Guinness beer and roast pork, when digested in equal proportions, resulted in a ‘tar-baby’ strong enough to rival super-glue. If the tsunami was released to flush the bugger down, waves of dark water would spray around the room, leaving the perfect coil washed, but not away. Eventually, experience would dictate to prod the offending jammed log with the brush in the direction of the watery grave, before hitting the rinse handle. 

But…there was a time when an inspection plate type ‘kazi’ (not to be confused with the corrupt bloke who ‘runs’ Afghanistan - this is Rhodie slang), would have come rather handy -  this was when you were suspected of having Bilharzias.
        This parasitic disease was responsible for being lame-arsed at school and wanting to lie in the fart-sack all day. (It is believed that it has cyber-genetically morphed and affects 7 in 9 adolescent users of X-Box, Nintendo and Sony PlayStations.) Actually, it is the second most socioeconomically devastating parasitic disease after malaria. In simple terms, you would catch it whilst peeing or dumping in a lake or river – as this chart shows.

Every now and then, government officials would come around to our junior school and shove two injections into your shoulder. (See ‘Traumatised children and their fear of injections –especially the dentist.’ Or in plain text - Needle Phobia in Children: A Discussion of Aetiology and Treatment Options).
 Depending on the resultant ‘bumps’ that appeared around the puncture wounds, you might have it. I mighted have it and therefore went into Phase Two. Two - being the defining term - as I had to collect three days supply of reprocessed food from my anal orifice, where it would then be sent for further analysis. (The dung… not the bung-hole.)
The correct conclusion would have been that I am severely undernourished, but they weren’t interested in that.
I was actually really excited at the prospect of being riddled with the nasty flukes, as I had up till that point, believed the cure was by drinking three litres of Coca-Cola a day. (It turned out that, that part of the cure was drinking large amounts of fluid and as far as my parents were concerned, water was a cheap alternative.)
Being only 11 at the time, it was explained that I wasn’t required to supply every night’s dinner, but just a large spoon full. Ahh – me thinks (panic stricken), I will be supplied with one of those fiendish stainless steel devices used to dig, scrape and create balls of ice-cream from a bucket to be ejected on a wafer cornet, and I would be required to insert it into you know where. No, I had to squat over some newspaper and with a spoon, scrape off a ‘reasonable’ amount and place it in the plastic containers provided.
 Nice! Remember…Three Days supply. This is summer in Rhodesia; not winter in the UK. Doggy poo went rock hard and white in 24 hours on an urban lawn. So guess where the first two days supply were stored? How about between the cheese, salami, cucumber and Mum’s home-made yoghurts!

The results came back. Unfortunately, I wasn’t infected, and sadly, my father would conclude I was just an anal retard; destined to scratch my hole as a response to any question revolving around what I did with my meagre pocket money.

To be continued…

A personal note for EA300 fellow students.

Yes, you may think this is childish, but is this not ‘Instruction and Delight’ (Hunt. 2009. p12-25, Reader 1) as far as kids are concerned. They make as much fuss about what goes in them as what comes out. Except - 99.99% of Children’s Literature will mention the former, but never the latter. Food for thought - next time you go to the toilet.

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