Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Sweet Babushka, I suprised us both.

Somewhere along the way to Poltava, Ukraine...

Trying to stay awake had been difficult after an extremely long flight. Sure, I had my team/friends on the marshrutka to talk to or play games with but nothing stayed amusing for long. We had been awake for roughly over 24ish hours. We had been given various forms of caffeine, mainly Coke, to stay awake. Boy, did I drink that Coke. Our assignment was to fight the jet lag and stay awake as long as possible. I just had to stay awake! I not only had my own Coke, but as much of anybody else's Coke that I could. To much avail, I dozed off...

Next thing I know we are parked. I was terribly shaky and confused since I had woken up so abruptly. After I figured out I was in Ukraine, I realized I had to go to the bathroom really bad. Fortunately for me, we had stopped to go to the bathroom. PRAISE THE LORD. I jumped off the bus, Charmin-to-go in hand, and was warned to stay where I was. (I may be almost twenty and claim to be an adult, but in my enthusiasm, I can make some immature decisions.) I was doing a hardcore potty dance as the team and I cross the road. I just really had to go.

As I walked into the bathroom with part of my team, I started having horrible flashbacks. These were squatty potties. The last time I squatted was years ago when I went camping in Utah. I had no problem squatting and going to the bathroom, but it ended up all over my pants and myself. Worse than that, my soiled clothes were aired out by the campfire. I had not forgotten this experience and knew THIS time would be different. I would conquer the squatting. Eager to prove to myself a capable squatter, I busted into the second stall from the right (yes, I remember), only to find an old lady, or babushka, using that toilet.

Those few seconds seemed like an eternity. The language barrier had shattered and I knew exactly what her looks 'said'. She looked angry, shocked, perplexed, and embarrassed. I mean, was I supposed to knock? Peek under the stall for little feet? I couldn't ask if anybody was in there...

As quickly as I opened the door, I slammed it shut and ran to hide behind the nearest body in an attempt to hide myself. I was graciously allowed the next stall available. Now I encountered the problem of relaxing. The whole scene was on replay in my mind. I could hear little giggles. Then I began to picture my clothes airing out to dry on the bus because I missed the hole.. talk about even more humiliation. I thought it couldn't get any worse. I was just too tense! Relax. Relax. Relax. I just stood there, kept telling myself to relax, and doing as much self-encouraging I could while I thought my bladder might bust within me. I'm guessing someone knew I was having technical difficulties and they told me to sing my ABC's. At this point, anything was worth a try.. so I slowly started signing and...

SUCCESS!!!!
(without any mess!)

I think of myself as a champion at squatty potties after that incident.
I also remained very cautious in bathroom situations for the rest of the trip.

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