New Home

            I’ve found a place to live.  I’m renting a room from a Muslim family in the Old City.  It’s a one-minute walk from the Umayyad Mosque (wikipedia it).  During the day I can hear a man sing over its loud speakers.

            The family is very nice, but we can’t talk much since my Arabic is pitiful, and their English isn’t so good.  A big excitement for this new move is the bathroom.  There isn’t a flush toilet; instead, they’ve got a pit toilet.  Now I’ve never used, nor seen someone else use such a thing.  It’s just a hole in the floor; inside of it, there is what looks like a small urinal on its side.  There is no toilet paper—just a hose.  Not wanting to be the foreigner who poops in the urinal, or whatever the cultural equivalent is over here, I’ve spent several minutes staring at this thing, trying to figure out its secrets.  After much reflection, I think I’ve got it.  Wish me luck.