Mommy I Have To Poop
Zachary comes to me and says he wants to ‘whisper’ in my ear. I know what is coming. “Mommy, I have to poop”, he says.
I am proud, he can do it on his own…at home. But here at Togala’s restaurant in Sadiola village, things are a little different and he wants help.
We are led, by the young woman with the key, outside then around the building to a fence in the back. It’s actually a circle of 5 foot high fence pieces; some bamboo, some just tarps and others cardboard. They are secured with a bike cable and lock. I am not sure what to expect on the inside.
I am handed a plastic tea kettle of water (Zachary wants to know why we will have tea in the bathroom). And we are left alone. I open the gate to the scattering of lizards.
Inside is a circular pad of concrete that sloops upward to the center where there is a single hole about 10 inches in diameter. Zachary is almost on his knees ready to peer in when I scoop him up and explain the plan. He is curious but unphased by the whole thing and enjoys being held up to do his business here.
I love that about my son, about bringing him here. He has no expectations and is so flexible when it comes to new things (except maybe for vegetables!).
What I enjoy is the view when I stand to assist Zachary. I can see over the fence. The sights and sounds of Sadiola village are my wallpaper. As I turn, I see the restaurant, a few donkey, two men walking past, the back of one of the stores on the main road, and a number of other structures like the one we are in now. I can hear conversation, music from a boom box, and passing cars.
I wash him up and we head back to enjoy the rest of our wonderful meal.
It’s no outhouse in the Adirondacks, or ‘groover’ on the Canyon, but it definitely has its own ambiance.
CSN
I am proud, he can do it on his own…at home. But here at Togala’s restaurant in Sadiola village, things are a little different and he wants help.
We are led, by the young woman with the key, outside then around the building to a fence in the back. It’s actually a circle of 5 foot high fence pieces; some bamboo, some just tarps and others cardboard. They are secured with a bike cable and lock. I am not sure what to expect on the inside.
I am handed a plastic tea kettle of water (Zachary wants to know why we will have tea in the bathroom). And we are left alone. I open the gate to the scattering of lizards.
Inside is a circular pad of concrete that sloops upward to the center where there is a single hole about 10 inches in diameter. Zachary is almost on his knees ready to peer in when I scoop him up and explain the plan. He is curious but unphased by the whole thing and enjoys being held up to do his business here.
I love that about my son, about bringing him here. He has no expectations and is so flexible when it comes to new things (except maybe for vegetables!).
What I enjoy is the view when I stand to assist Zachary. I can see over the fence. The sights and sounds of Sadiola village are my wallpaper. As I turn, I see the restaurant, a few donkey, two men walking past, the back of one of the stores on the main road, and a number of other structures like the one we are in now. I can hear conversation, music from a boom box, and passing cars.
I wash him up and we head back to enjoy the rest of our wonderful meal.
It’s no outhouse in the Adirondacks, or ‘groover’ on the Canyon, but it definitely has its own ambiance.
CSN
posted by Bronx to Timbuktu at 8:46 AM
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