I want to make one thing clear before we go any further in this post. Read it VERY carefully and take my advice. It will save you tons of embarrassment and heartache in the future. If only I’d heeded these words of advice before my fateful day in Siwa, Egypt.
So here is how the story goes:
On August 29th, 2010 I found myself in the desert oasis of Siwa, Egypt. This place is a gem hidden in a sea of rolling sand otherwise known as the Western Sahara Desert.
In Siwa, you can find all sorts of fruits and spices that are locally grown. You also get away from the Nile Valley, a gigantic tourist trap for western travelers (That deserves a post in itself).
Siwa has been an oasis for nomads in the desert for more than a thousand years. With that being said, there are tons of ancient tombs, ruins, and temples dotted about. Awesome!
So a Canadian buddy, Patrick, and myself hired a local and his donkey, Ali Baba, to cart us around town to visit these ancient sites. It was actually a really fun experience and would recommend travel by donkey to anyone.
Our guide, Ali Baba the donkey and myself before disaster struck!
Anyways, walked around some ancient Graeco-Roman tombs in the early morning to avoid the unrelenting sun. After popping in and out of piss smelling tombs that the locals now use as their toilet/makeshift home, we moved onto the next site, the Temple of the Oracle.
The Temple of the Oracle is where it is said that Alexander the Great went to confirm his divinity. Luckily for us, we had the place to ourselves in the early morning (If the place would have been packed, the story would have been much worse for me).
We even had to wake up the gate keeper so that we could pay our admission into the site. Sometimes it’s a bitch being honest!
Before I was able to explore much of the temple, a red alert hit me. If any of you have traveled to the Middle East or Asia, you know what I’m talking about.
For those who have not, a red alert is when you eat something that does not necessarily agree with you and your stomach begins doing hula hoops around your ass. And it’s basically the warning shot. You need to find a toilet pronto (2-5 minutes) and if you don’t, you have an awful mess on your hands.
Well, a red alert hit me, and I began my frantic quest for a toilet. It wasn’t looking good for a while. Like to the point where I was contemplating desecrating ancient history.
My eyes started watering, my paces become shorter and shorter, and my head was scanning for dark corners or positions behind rocks or walls.
Then, like an angel out the sky, I turned a corner and saw what appeared to be a toilet. Sure enough as I shuffled to the building, it was!
But not like the one most of us are used to. These toilets are more primitive in nature. It didn’t matter to me though, anything would do before I nearly exploded.
As I squatted over the porcelain hole in the ground, I looked to my right and saw a bum gun. And by that sight, I was more than pleased and feeling pretty good about life.
A bum gun some of you may be asking? Well, let me take a little detour and get on my soap box about bum guns.
These babies are God’s gift to cleaning your backside while on the john. And if or when I ever have a house, I’m having one installed. You should too.
What a bum gun is, is a hose with a nozzle at the end. You use it wash your rear, no wiping necessary. And I’m here to tell you it’s great.
Let’s think about it. Most of us wash our body everyday, but when it comes to the dirtiest part, we use dry paper product to clean. Does this not make sense to anyone else? We use dry paper product to meticulously clean our backside?
That’s the utter beauty of a bum gun. A few squirts, wham-bam thank you ma’am your clean. Then you can use a tissue so that you don’t drip or just do a little hokey pokey and shake all about. This should be sufficient to get what remaining water you have off your rear.
I’m not gonna lie, it takes a little practice, but once you got it, it’s like riding a bike. You won’t ever forget. And it makes life 100 times easier.
You heard it here first. I’m starting the bum gun revolution so jump on the band wagon, everyone is doing it!
Ok, so now back to the story. I look to my right, bum gun-check. I do my business, reach over to the hose and notice that there is dust on the handle. “That’s weird,” I think to myself.
Then catastrophe hits. I realized that my life was not as good as it seemed and I had a very serious issue quickly approaching. There was no water to the bum gun and no toilet paper next to the porcelain basin. FML!
So here is lesson one to this post:
Adapt and adapt quickly to your environment
An adapt is exactly what I did. No toilet paper, no bum gun, no problem!
I started rifling through my backpack and quickly came to a solution, although residents of Zambia won’t be happy.
Besides my camera and some sunblock, I only had Zambian money as well as an old credit card statement on standard 8×11 paper.
Might as well start off with the softest stuff, right? So I ruffled the Zambian cash a bit and concentrated on making use of every square inch of the bill, front and back.
Seriously, I think I should get an award for this. I don’t think anybody else in the world has EVER folded and used the bill as many times as I did on that fateful morning.
Unfortunately for me, the two bills were not enough so I had to resort to the stiffer 8×11 credit card statement. I ruffled it as best I could, but nothing short of soaking it in water for a day could have softened the edges of the paper.
It was painful at times, humiliating at others, and finally just plain ass funny.
When I was finally all cleaned up, I looked down at the mess and thought, “If someone is going to steal my identity from that credit card statement, they are going to have to earn it.” And seriously, if someone would have, I think I’d had let them have the money. They would’ve definitely gone above and beyond the call of duty.
So lesson two from this story:
ALWAYS carry back up toilet paper when your out and about
This is especially true when you have a touchy stomach like I had. And when you are in poorer countries where the facilities may not always be up to par.
So after my situation was resolved, I carried on wandering the Temple of the Oracle while my buddy Patrick wondered where I’d been for the last 15 minutes.
Temple of the Oracle
I thought about keeping it a secret from him then thought better. What the hell? If you can’t laugh at situations like that, then you need to take a step back and reevaluate your life a bit.
After telling Patrick about my epic battle with the toilet and eventual victory, I literally thought he was gonna piss his pants. I’m glad somebody was having a laugh at my expense.
So finally, the last lesson to be learned is:
Learn to laugh at yourself
Too many people these days don’t take time to smell the roses. I mean, if I can laugh at my whole assplosion experience, then you sure as hell better lighten up too!
But really, it’s always best to look at the bright side on a shitty situation (notice the pun). I did with mine so hopefully we can all sit down, have a beer, and laugh at the not-always-funny at the time, but hilarious-after situations that life throws our way.
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haha. Great story. I completely agree with you about the bum gun! So much so that i have decided to setup a website about. Not only due to the improved level of hygiene provided by the bum gun but also due to environmental factors such as deforestation which is associated with toilet paper. I have lived in India, South East Asia and South America. They don’t have the bum gun in South America and as a result i am regularly staring at a bin overflowing with crappy pieces of toilet paper. And yes you are right…It does require a small amount of practice and technique, which is often the reason why some travelers don’t necessarily get on with it. Still, everyone i know who has lived in Asia does! Thanks for the article. Spread the word not the turd!
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