To Flush, or Not to Flush

In Nicaragua toilet paper is not flushed. It is deposited in a covered wastebasket adjacent the inodoro  (toilet).

 In Spanish, the sign in el banjo de damas at the Nehemiah center warns all users: don’t put paper in the toilet because it constantly stops the sewer system.

Today, on the automatic pilot that is less connected to my memory each passing decade, I toss tissue into instead of beside the inodoro.

Oops.

The perfectionist Puritan on my shoulder says, “Scoop it out. Your hands are washable. You MUST reach down and scoop."

Moved by mother love, I have changed my share of diapers. And motivated by $300, I once combed through five garbage bags of school-lunch leftovers in search of my son’s retainer. But this I cannot do.

I gag the Puritan preacher.

I flush.

If tomorrow the Nicaraguan version of Roto-Rooter arrives at el banyo de damas, Calvinist though I am, I’ll be searching for a priest and a confessional booth.