Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
In the evening another man and his wife came to visit. The man was tall and
gaunt. Soon after arriving, he began asking for vodka, and after some argument
Babushka handed over two bottles. Within an hour sweat was dripping from his
brow and two empty bottles sat by his feet. His wife explained that their family
earnings totalled AU$17 a month. They had two young boys of ten and twelve
years of age. When it was time for them to leave, he collapsed in the arms of his
wife.
Night came and after another enormous meal, Babushka struggled up the ladder
to rest with a sigh of relief on top of the brick furnace where she slept each night. I
was woken hours later by a constant knocking at the front door. Babushka eventu-
ally stormed out, swearing at yet another man begging for alcohol.
Unfortunately, being awake made me acutely aware of a terrible rumbling in my
bowels. It felt like any sudden movement would bring the contents gushing out.
Earlier in the day, Chris and I thought it peculiar that Babushka had stated quite
clearly that there was no toilet; we were instructed to find a place in the front yard.
Taking my jacket I tiptoed through the kitchen, fumbling for the door handle in the
dark. Eventually, I made it outside, leaving the door ajar to make things easier for
my return.
I poked my toes into my shoes and shuffled out along a plank. It was raining and
the muddy slush in the backyard was as black as the sky. Unfortunately, I hadn't
been able to find any toilet paper, but that was the least of my problems. As I
stepped off the plank and shuffled on, one of my shoes remained stuck in the mud.
It didn't matter anymore. Resting against a heap of firewood, I squatted … and
slipped.
I managed to steady my footing but it was too late. A pungent smell wafted from
below. Some quick thinking was called for. I had to get out of my pants and get rid
of my underwear - carefully. All was going smoothly until I hit my right knee. The
huge clump of clay made it almost impossible to roll down my pants. Desperately,
I fiddled with the knot in the tea towels.
Finally, I removed the tea towel and my pants, and found myself with the soiled
culprit in my hand. Then came movement from inside the house.
Frantic, I lifted a few logs and stuffed the underwear into the mud. With quiver-
ing hands, I wrapped the clay back onto my leg and pulled on the trousers. Just as
I found the lost shoe, the door opened and I was blinded by the light of Babushka's
torch.
'Oh, Tim, it's only you. What are you doing?' she asked.
