Bless that Slovakian woman. When I went to the WC yesterday at the church, I was dismayed to see the little hole in the floor at the bottom of a very shallow basin. we were at the trattoria and had ordered. I went up to path, stared at the last stall, opened another to find it was just the same, and didn't both with the third, but, instead, walked back to our table wondering how I was going to make it the 2 or so miles back to our apartment. Doug then checked it out, but of course men have no problem with this kind of setup. But when he came back, he said that I'd have to be careful if I went, because when you flush, the water runs all over the floor where, of course, you're standing. that did it.
Then I saw the young woman at the next table walk that path and come back after a bit of time passed, suggesting she has actually used the WC, so I got up my nerve and went to her table.
Do you speak English, I asked.
Yes.
Could you show me.... (pointing at the path to the WC)
Yes, come with me.
Together we walk the path, and when we get to the stalls, she asks,
--Are your knees good?
---Yes (giving thanks for the deep knee-bends I do)
--Then, she says, you need to squat down--use the napkin you brought with you. then get up. You need to walk out, then reach in and flush--don,t worry--it's clean water, but it comes all over the floor.
--Are you Italian, I ask.
--No, Slovakian, but I've traveled in Asia a lot'
--Ah!
--Don't worry, I'll wait for you.
So I go in and squat and use my napkin, step out, flush, and there she is down the path waiting--reminding me to wash my hands in the outside basin with cool, flowing water. we walk back to our tables together.
Angels unaware.
.
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