Notes From a Shithole Country

Supriya Ambwani


Day 1
I left the airport in a car. There are roads in this country. There were signs for a metro. I am surprised.

I was taken to a house made of bricks. I thought all shithole country houses were made of mud. These people are trying to fool me into believing I am in Norway.

They led me to a shower. The water was hot. Who knew that shithole country had hot water? I shall not fall for their ruse.


Day 2
I woke up cozy in a blanket. I have been given my own room. I thought all shithole country people lived in sewage pipes.

I took my morning shit in a toilet and watched in awe as my smelly feces got flushed into fishies’ houses. They did not make me shit on the street.

I was given bacon for breakfast. I did not know that shithole countries had godly bacon.

They handed me a television remote. The television had Fox News. This shithole country is not such a shithole after all.

They took me to dinner. I did not know that shithole country had restaurants. I thought everyone fought in the streets for a bagful of grains. I did not get murdered over dinner.

Fox News never lies. These people are trying to manipulate me.


Day 3
I am convinced that I am in Norway. The brown people have taken over, but it is unmistakably not an anarchy.

They have not converted me. I am not weak. The airline lied to me. It brought me to the wrong country. What a shithole airline from a shithole country.