We woke up late (and on this trip, that means 9:30). I made Quebec (French) toast, bacon, and hash browns (Marci ate Greek Yogurt). Today is our last day to sit and do nothing (well, read, play games, etc). I put up my hammock - so we are totally prepared.
I believe that there is a great deal you can ascertain about a culture from their graffiti. It is random, anonymous, and unsolicited. The author must be concise. In the case of a pit toilet, the author must also be determined (you have to scratch in the message for permanence). I figure some message must be bursting from within the defecator’s soul to stop their business long enough to scratch our their tome for future bathroom goers and posterity. (As I have mentioned previously) In the United States, this is usually some dirty ditty, an opportunity to rant (f**k Trump or democrats, or an unknown gang rival), or some version of “I was here”.
But not in Canada.
I can now say that I have been in a wide sampling of outhouses. Most are absolutely graffiti free. I did mention one with a sweet (VERY Canadian message about keeping things tidy). But apparently, the Canadian outhouse is also a very important medium to express your undying affection. In ONE outhouse I found two distinct pledges of unending affection “S+R=❤️” and the more unfortunate “Jimmy Jon + Dareen” (inside a large heart).Unfortunately, “Dareen” (whether just having been spelled incorrectly by her paramour - or because their love didn’t outlast this coat of paint) has been scratched out. With no explanation. I am left with many questions - and should I meet Jimmy Jon later in my travels, I will certainly press him for clarification.
No comments:
Post a Comment