On a recent trip to Central America, I had the unfortunate opportunity to try out a sort of bathroom which I had previously never experienced. It began on a sweltering, humid day in a small village which only had running water in two buildings. Regrettably, the call of nature is not one which can be ignored for an extended period of time, and Montezuma’s revenge had hit me hard. I made my way to the small outhouse at the top of the hill. I was instructed that toilet paper was to be thrown in the trash can, and when I was finished I was to scoop water out of a nearby trough with a bucket and use it to flush. Upon venturing inside, I discovered that this was not your average squatty. It was not a hole in the ground, nor was it a functional western toilet. Instead, it was merely the toilet bowl, entirely void of a seat or reservoir. Needless to say, this made for a very uncomfortable process. Sitting on the lip was out of the question; the sanitation around food preparation was in doubt, let alone a toilet bowl. Left with no other options, I was forced to perform a wall sit over the toilet, but without a wall to lean on. I suffered as long as I could and finally completed the deed. My thighs trembled from exhaustion. I could hardly walk, but I needed to leave that foul stench behind to air out. On the plus side, this building (if it could be called a building) was anything but fully enclosed. This allowed a breeze to blow through, clearing the air. I quickly scooped a bucket of water, paused just long enough to make sure the toilet was completely flushed, and exited as quickly as possible, praying I wouldn’t have to return. I survived the rest of my time without a repeat experience, but the fear created stayed with me until we got off the plane in the states and I knew I had a solid toilet, in which I could flush my toilet paper with the press of a button, and on which I could relax while I did my business.