... after working for 3 hours in a merapi refugee camp, and being completely covered head to toe in ash, you drive into jogja to a mall for lunch and one of the indonesian people in your group asks if she can wash her feet off in the fountain inside the mall.
oh, but it gets better.
i told her that probably wouldn't be very polite... later we had to go to the bathroom before making the 2 hour drive back home, so we went together. i finished first, and when she came out, i noticed that her feet were soaking wet and very clean. i peered curiously in the stall she had just come out of to see if there was a bucket of water (often used for flushing toilets) or a sprayer (because indonesians don't use TP, they hose themselves down). there were neither... so, already dreading her answer, i asked, "uhm.. where did you wash your feet at?" to which she cheerfully replied, "in the toilet! ok, let's go now!"
oh, dear...
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