Today the wind is blowing in
just the right direction to present me with the lovely aroma of
burning excrement. Yes, out here away from the lovely invention of
plumbing and septic systems lies the land of burning pits of poo.
This is our way of continuing our “doodies” without creating
disease and plague. Some may not find this topic particularly
tasteful, but I shall tell it nonetheless, as I have been tasked to
give you an idea of what it is like out here, and I would be robbing
you of a large portion of our environment if I were not to write
about it.
Yes, out here the closest you'll get to a toilet is the
seat, if you're lucky. A toilet seat sitting atop a wooden box of
some sort with a cut-out hole. Need to call a meeting with Mother
Nature? You go get yourself a “wag-bag” which is made by a
variety of companies. I am partial to the “Dispose-a-John”
myself, but to each his own. Each is made a bit differently, but all
utilize the basic concept of a plastic bag which fits over the toilet
seat and hangs down through the hole. I will trust that I need not
describe the rest of the process as I am sure you get the idea. When
finished you close up your wag-bag by whatever means the individual
creator provided you, and you take it to the burn pit, which is a
large dugout pit for burning garbage and wag-bags. There is nothing
like carrying around a bag of your own poo. Everyone should
experience this. It is very humbling.
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