Latrine Adventures, Part II

I really saw this one coming. 

In Niger, I had a rather unfortunate incident with a latrine and my iTouch. Here I will pause for a moment and endorse all Apple products full heartedly. I managed to get said piece of electronic equipment back to the States, and with the help of my loving parents and my dear friend Brian, it made its way back to me in Rwanda, fully repaired. Apparently dropping your iTouch into an outdoor toilet, pouring a bucket of water, and a bottle of anti-bacterial gel on it, will not cause water damage.

Anyway, I’m a slow learner. You would think after such a scaring experience I would keep all electronic equipment far away from large, dark, deep holes filled with human feces. Actually, you would think anyone in their right mind would keep everything away from such holes. As I said, I’m a slow learner.

The latrine at my health center is, what Rwandans would call, serious. It’s actually four latrines that all dump into the same enormous underground hole. I try to use it only in the case of emergency, and on this fateful day, I had an emergency, and in my rush, I let my phone slip.

Unlike in Niger, there was no question about whether or not I could stick my hand in to retrieve the fallen article. My phone was at least twenty feet down, lost forever. I walked out of the latrine feeling defeated. I told a couple of my coworkers, who responded with very sympathetic “yooooo”, “ihangane”, and head shakes. Luckily, one of my friends was heading into the big city that day, so I went over to his office to ask if he wouldn’t mind getting me a new one.

Ten minutes later, three maintenance workers ran towards me, demanding a flashlight. Noticing the confused look on my face, the head cleaner Shashi exclaimed “we’re getting your phone back!”.

 “I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” I responded hesitantly. “It’s probably broken, let’s try to call it first”. But Shashi’s reasoning: there’s no service that far down, and I have an original Nokia so it definitely still works, won over my hesitation.

Three hours later, a triumphant maintenance worker walked towards me with my recovered phone (disinfected with the tools used to sterilize surgical equipment at the hospital). Just as I opened my arms to give this kind, brave man a hug and offer him a beer and my most sincere gratitude, I was stopped in my tracks.

“That will be 5,000 francs” he said with a huge smile on his face. I looked to my other coworkers in disbelief. I hadn’t asked this man to retrieve my phone, and while I had been planning to express my gratitude in financial terms anyway, I had not agreed to anything specific.

A screaming match between the maintenance man and my very honest coworker followed, allowing the forty plus people standing around to learn about my latrine troubles and give their own opinions on a suitable reward. Three thousand was the amount agreed upon, which I handed over as quickly as possible, eager to put the whole fiasco behind.

PCVs getting ready for a boat ride on Lake Kivu

The next day, my counterpart smiled and handed me her phone, “Alma, I’m going to the bathroom, could you hold this for me while I go?”. This time, I think I’ve learned my lesson.