Couple of years ago i was living in Nepal
on one of those VSO teaching projets. I lived with five other people in a house over a shop owened by a lovely Gurung family. They were always looking after us and inviting us to their parties. Their house was just to one side of the shop, and Captain Gurung's brother in law lived above them, just opposite to us. Subsequently, there was a bit of a communal area between the two houses on our level where they used to place the guests. Our toilet (delightful little hole in the ground that it was) was therefore fair game for all guests.

So one day we're having a right old shindig, the raksi is flowing and the chick pea curry is delicious. There's singing, there's dancing, and it comes to the time for the main course. This was a special holy festival, so we had meat. After the goat is sacrificed, grandma comes along with the bucket of blood and intestines and throws it down our little poo hole, splattering most of it over the floor and the back wall. Yum.
( eponymous Oh!, Fri 2 Sep 2005, 13:02, Reply)