Back in 2010, I made a last-minute trip to San Francisco. It was a training trip, and for those few who followed me on Twitter at the time there was some live-tweeting of the trip that had to be at least somewhat amusing to those not laughing along with me. In fact, this trip was one I mentioned in one of my very first blog posts. At one point I commented about a day in which I had used a high-flush velocity, a low-flush velocity, and a waterless urinal. A veritable trifecta of sanitation and highlight for any civil engineer. Septically speaking, my journeys in the Middle East thus far have provided a similar treasure trove of outhouse nuggets.
The first comment after exploring my hotel room in Dubai, was that I couldn't plug anything in, flush the toilet, or speak with the staff. It made me feel so American. Since then, I have seen toilets with flush handles, push buttons mounted on the tank, the tank lid, the wall, split between small and large flushes, pull-flushing devices, and European flushing toilets. While I have seen Eastern toilets I have not tried them. That position is daunting for a Westerner even without the wonderment of how rocks can be used in lieu of paper.
So the point is that I have seen a plethora of toilets, so many that I have not once found myself in search of relief in any location not set up specifically and designed for the purpose. Perhaps not such an important point for most, but as someone who has gone in/on some odd places, and as the grandson of a man who peed off his front porch one last time the day he passed away, this is a matter of great importance--I have not yet said while zipping my pants "Piss on Afghanistan."
I hope that my blog is entertaining to some, but I write first for myself. Not all my ramblings are of class or full of literary merit. Some of them flat-out stink and are pure crap.
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And as an update, I originally wrote this 3 weeks ago, still no pissing on Afghanistan.