Below is a picture of a typical bathroom in India. When you are provided with an actual toilet complimented with a sink, then you’ve stuck gold. Usually there is a hole in the ground and a bucket filled with water, I still have no idea how to go about using the two effectively without smearing feces everywhere.
What is even more unlikely when using bathrooms here is when you find a restaurant/store that offers toilet paper, when this rarity occurs you have to look twice because usually its to good to be true. Socks, t-shirts and the Delhi Times doubles as half-decent TP.
Typical Indian bathroom
Arvil has been bedridden for the past couple days; his childish immune system couldn’t handle the likes of Rithlals five star chef skills. Surprisingly enough my stomach has held strong … so far. I am writing this in hopes that my words come back to haunt me, I want my inevitably sickness to arrive already. I want a couple ruthless back to back sessions followed by temporarily being crippled.
You may be confused on why I am wishing for warm foaminess to dribble down my leg but you must understand that this sickness is guaranteed and the sooner I get it over with the sooner I can continue my travels. Last thing I want is to be stuck on a 3rd class train with no bathroom or like a hole in the ground and all a sudden my stomach is ready to shit bricks, which are still in the molten state.
I have contemplated eating at a road side food stand (garmented squirts) or licking the bottom of Sanjays feet (he drives barefoot) but have yet to build up the courage to do either.
Stinky ... niice!
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