Latrines!

Finally!  Here is the much-anticipated post with a review of latrines of Nicaragua (and also a few toilets).  It’s a bit hard to do in-depth critiques (like Sarah did for our Olympic Mountain trip) because I was not able to personally experience all of the latrines that I’ll be showing /discussing—one can’t just walk into someone’s yard and try out the facilities.  Also, there is a good deal of standardization, so the rating would depend more on maintenance than design.  So what follows is more of an overview of latrines by class, rather than individual ratings.  Sorry to any who were hoping for rankings of 1-5 toilet paper rolls.

In cities:

If you arrive in Nicaragua at the Sandino International Airport and visit the facilities (VERY recommended if you’ll be directly catching a bus to anywhere), you may not even detect that you’ve left the US (except that it will be 90°F and there will be no air conditioning).  The facilities there are equivalent to a modern building at home.  Managua and other cities have sewer and water systems, although water systems may have much lower pressure than is typical in the states, which makes them susceptible to contamination if there is a leak.  Managua has literally hundreds of barrios which are blessed (or cursed, depending on the barrio) with differently functioning water and sewer services.  Therefore, you may find latrines within the city right along-side sanitary sewer services or even sections with no sewer service.  I’ve not been to other larger cities yet, but I think it’s a safe bet that the poorer parts of town will consistently have poorer public services than other parts (some things appear universal).  Aside from the airport, the UNI (Universidad Nacional de Ingeniería) is the only other place in Managua where I have personal experience and their facilities are also modern.

Other “city” experiences: 

1.       Ocotal (at the restaurant with the Che Guevara manger scene).  The restaurant had a clean rest room with a flush toilet, a urinal, running water in the sink and toilet paper, but the toilet lacked a ring to sit on.  I don’t know if the women’s room was similarly equipped, but my guess would be yes.  The only other unusual aspect of this rest room was the valve on the urinal, which, in lieu of the typical flush lever or button, had a simple PVC ball valve plumbed in and you flushed by opening the valve.  Of course, this means that you have to manually shut off the water or it will continue to run forever.

2.       Estelí (at La Casita Restaurant).  A basic latrine, somewhat dark, but it was set in the beautiful gardens across the creek, so it’s a pleasant trip to get there.

3.       Condega (public restroom in park).  A pay toilet that required C$3 (about 12¢) to enter.  It was clean enough, but had no water to wash—the sign said to wash outside, but there was no water there either.  It did have an interesting nearly bathtub-size urinal.

Massive ceramic-tiled urinal in Condega.

In the country (Sabana Grande in particular):

In the country, I’d guess 99+% of the latrines are simple pits.  When they are filled, they are covered and a new latrine is dug.  So with a few exceptions, the differences between latrines lie in the “amenities” that are provided at the top.  Since the 80s or 90s, various NGOs and development agencies have put resources into latrines (the other major thrust being wells), so most houses now have at least one “standard design” latrine (although there are several “standard” designs depending on when and by whom the latrine was supplied).  For seating, there are a couple of options:  a cast concrete base and seat or a fiberglass seat and floor that sits on a flat concrete base.  Standard latrines also have vent pipes, typically of plastic, from the pit through the roof.  Regardless of seating type, the hole is always covered when not in use by either a wooden or fiber board.  At least some of the standard designs also incorporate latches and toilet paper holders, although toilet paper is generally not left in the latrine, but carried there as needed.

A photo showing the cast concrete version of the seat.  This happens to be in one of the all-steel, painted ones.  You can see gray vent pipe in the back.

This photo shows a fiberglass seat/floor covering housed in a wooden-framed structure with flat galvanized sheet metal.  The roof is regular corrugated roofing.

And some brave folks “don’t need no stinking superstructure!”  Here’s one that Sarah would really like-great view, lots of ventilation!

For the superstructure, one common design uses flat, galvanized, unpainted sheet metal supported by either a wooden or a galvanized steel frame.  Various insects and the weather tend to wreak havoc on wooden frames, so the all-metal designs seem to stand up better. (In fact, the rafters and joists holding up the roofs often need to be replaced at intervals.)  The roofs of the zinc-colored latrines are made of a standard, galvanized, corrugated roofing material (like many of the roofs on other buildings).  The other design is galvanized steel painted/coated to a light blue-green color, but the frame is plain, painted steel, which tends to rust faster.  The steel walls have some corrugations for stiffness, but are not the wavy corrugation of roofing.  The roofs for this design are made of the same coated steel as the walls.

The line-up of latrines at my house, showing examples of both “standard” designs.  Houses frequently have more than one latrine in service, just like houses in the US often have more than one bathroom.  The codes on the door (of the green one) indicate information about the particular project that built the latrine.  This particular one was built in 2005.

Where houses are relatively close, there will be numerous latrines grouped together.  Here again are examples of both standard designs.

It is also possible to find some latrines with non-standard, home-made structures.  Some are very basic and others a bit more sophisticated.  The doors can vary widely from a simple curtain to a finished wooden door.  And occasionally one finds some interesting twist or modification that seems to be relatively unusual.

This is the latrine at the house where I stayed in May.  It is probably the most primitive I’ve seen here, but it does have the standard, cast concrete base/seat.  The door is simply a cloth.  One difficulty for me was that I can’t even walk in without bending over quite a bit.  The height at the peak is about 1.5 m.

Here’s an example of another non-standard latrine—this is the proverbial brick ****house!  In spite of being of such a durable material, the roof seems to be ad-libbed from scrap material and the masonry job isn’t the neatest.

Here’s another one that I’ve only seen one example of—a double-seater.  I’m not sure if there is a partition inside and two doors or just one space since the view shown is what is visible from the road.

Here is an example of a standard design, but the vault is elevated so you must go up steps to the latrine.  This is one solution to splash-back (see more on this below).

There are also a few more “exotic” types of latrines, the ones that I’m aware of all having been introduced by Grupo Fenix.  These try to put the waste products to better use by either composting or bio-gas generation.  The three examples are:

1.       The Clivus composting toilet (at the Centro Solar).  Emily and William lived in a dorm at college that had this type of toilet integrated into their suite.  The pictures include a description of the process (if you can read the Spanish!).

Here is the reading material while using Clivus.  It explains operation and maintenance, but Googling should get you an explanation in English if you’re interested.

The inside view of Clivus showing both adult and child seats.  The floor is decoratively tiled with broken pieces.

This is the Clivus composting latrine at the Centro Solar.  It is adobe with plaster and a tiled room.  A wash stand (but without running water) is at the side.

2.       A bio-digester toilet for producing cooking gas for the restaurant.  This is a brick structure with hinged doors, running water and electricity.  It appears very much like a standard bathroom plumbed with running water, but the water pressure is considerably less.  There are also a few restrictions on use/maintenance to maintain the proper environment for the bacteria.

This is the new, bio-digesting latrine at the restaurant.  It is a legitimate 2-person facility of brick with tile roof.  The running water comes from the adjacent tank, which is filled by a solar-powered electric pump.  The bio-digester tank is buried behind.

The interior of the bio-digesting toilet is quite similar to a standard US bathroom.

One thing that is considerably different that a standard bathroom is that uses are asked to record their “activities” since this is also a part of on-going research.

3.       A new, composting latrine that is not yet completed (at the Montaña Solar).  The base (it is raised so there is no pit—you need to climb stairs to enter) is concrete and the roof galvanized steel, but most of the structure is of natural building materials.  The raised position allows compost to be removed more easily, plus avoids one of the “highlights” of the rainy season:  “splash-back” (Apparently with enough rain, pits can fill up making the latrine an even more exciting experience!).

Living with only a pit toilet has not turned out to be a hardship at all.  In the rainy season it could certainly be a bit unpleasant, but at least the temperature here is always such that the old jokes about “tin toilets in the Yukon” never apply.  The major negative is having to go in the middle of the night:  getting shoes on and traipsing across the yard can quickly become a drag.  However, when kept clean, they don’t really seem too much different than a flush-toilet-equipped facility.  Perhaps after my travels with Susan I’ll be able to add some additional data points to this report.