Holy Poopcrapshit, isn't it?

If you have ever traveled to India, the above expression will touch a place in you that conjours a knowing head wiggle and possibly, deep belly laughter. If you have not, I will do my best to explain without completely ruining the punch line.

The colloquial expression, "Isn't it," is added to many sentences here, for example: "Hari Om! You will find yourself tomorrow flying to the far away distances, isn't it? Challo!" or "I am telling this to your very good face with the sweating, isn't it?" This is Indian English; a delightful mix of Hindi and English with remants of the old world British accent.

And in India, the only thing there is more of than the phrase, "Isn't it," is poopcrapshit.

Allow me to elaborate.

At the end of my last blog I wrote the words, "Holy crap," without really thinking about it. It later struck me that perhaps this phrase actually orignated here in India. After all, crap is very and natural and unhidden here (much like death) and is indeed, very holy.

The morning that we arrived here (and every subsequent morning), cowpies were burning in the duni fire symbolizing purification and next to the fire was a pile of cowpies full of handprints, waiting their turn in the embers. Crap from the sacred Hindu cows is not only used for fuel and purification but also for fertilization. It is a vital, necessary and circular element of life here that is wedded to spiritual beliefs and born out of the natural cycles of the earth (birth, life, death = change). It is literally HOLY crap.

When you walk down the roads here (I'm speaking mainly of Haridwar), poopcrapshit is everywhere. Its on the jungle path, its on the sidewalk, its on your feet and its on your shoes. Human, elephant, horse, dog, cow; poopcrapshit. It is a slip sliding musco-skeletal moving side stepping adventure, and no one bats an eye. As within so without, what goes in must come out!

In fact, its not at all uncommon to see not only cows pooping on your path, but humans as well. I have seen more bare butts on this journey than any other this lifetime. In their loose and free clothing, men and women alike cop a squat and go whenever the call comes, wherever they are. The idea of "holding it" is anathema to most rural Indians and that also goes for burps, farts, boogers and loogies ( in fact, to burp three times after a meal means your full and signifies gratitude).

In the West of course we would rather hold it and wait to find a bathroom, more comfortable politely poisoning our bodies with a painful grin on our face rather than blow the lid off of our purity by exhibiting and releasing normal body functions (I think that our desire to hide these things is directly correlated to our obtuse fear of death and the cycles of nature, but thats a different blog all together).

One of my favorite phrases is actually, "There is a bathroom everywhere," and being here has given it a whole new meaning-they really live it, I just like to say it while I'm hiking before I find a bush or tree to dive behind to hide my butt.

Before I left for India, my neigbor informed me that my cat, Darth Vader, was poopcrapshitting in her flowerbeds. I told her that I didn't really know what to do about it as he is an outside cat but that I was open to her suggestions. She replied, "Well, no one really owns a cat.." and then mentioned that her BB gun was oiled and ready. Needless to say, when I left for India, I left it in the hands of the Gods. If Darth was going to die poopcrapshitting in his idea of a perfect potting soil toilet, so be it. Being in India, surrounded by the normalcy of copius amounts of poop, only reinforced this for me. So imagine my surprise when I received word via email that my neighbor had been retaliating against Darth's bowel movements by picking them up and placing them on my bedroom window sill.

I could not help but laugh and imagine her in India, spending all day and all night carting poopcrapshit back to its rightful owners. Ah, I digress, I know, it's the same old story: one persons freedom fighter is another persons terrorist and one person's holy necessity is another person's righteous pet peeve.

Either way, poopcrapshit ensures one thing: that you can't take yourself too seriously. I mean, after all...you poop, I poop, everybody poops, isn't it?