This is what we call the "douche" in Mauritania, which is actually French for "shower," but that's done elsewhere. Notice the lack of toilet paper, white tile, Ajax and general charm. This place is for business. And when I say business, I mean the most serious, heavy duty, strangely-colored business known to mankind. Those plastic teapots you see are makareshes, and leaving them empty for the next person is a crime much worse than leaving the seat up or half a square on the roll.You've all heard the phrase "when Nature calls..." Well, here there's no time for the "..." When Africa calls, you GO. What I'm about to say is not for the squeamish, so if that's you, stop here.
Oh good, you're one of the tough ones. You'd do well here. Now I always knew this journey would, in part, be one of self-discovery, I just didn't know how much I would discover about myself by living with a left hand for toilet paper. For example, here are some actual thoughts that have passed through my head while spending time in the douche:
"Wow, there really was a lot of sand in that couscous!"
"Umm, that looks like pale green house paint. Should I be worried?"
And most recently, and coincidentally holiday appropriate:
"That smells like pumpkin. Exactly like pumpkin. That's just eery. Who was in here before me?"
Well, I hope that answers some of your questions, while still leaving you wondering. Let me know what other topics you'd like me to write about or post photos of.
