My grandparents pooped in a hole they dug. I pooped in that hole too when I was little. It's not so bad. You just have to dig a new hole and fill in the old one from time to time.
The little house over the hole did get a might ripe in the summer time. Frostbite on the nether regions was a serious possibility in the winter. Old Monkey Wards and Sears and Sawbuck catalogs served one final purpose. (That was quite an improvement over the corn cobs that were sometimes used when my mother was growing up. :)
A friend about my age did the same in India when he was growing up. But without a real building, and no seat over the hole. However there was a screen and a canopy. The hole was first class though, it was surrounded by concrete. But I don't think I could deal the lack of a seat, or someplace to hang the paper or leaves or whatever.
Ha! Great story. I like the “first class” part. I’m a country girl. A little tinkle outside behind the barn is liberating! Nothin’ wrong with that! OK, that was TMI. Sorry.
I find it very odd how The Obama Furher has relatives so very poor all over the world and does nothing to help them. He must believe that only government helps people, by taxing everyone to death, wasting most of the money and then passing along a few pennies to the poor.