So, I was just scrolling through this Reddit thread, you know, and it all started with this kind of funny, offbeat question someone posed on behalf of a historian friend: basically, what did Native Americans use to wipe in pre-colonial and colonial times? It sounds like a joke, but the discussion that unfolded was anything but. The main response, from an archaeologist, just blew everyone away with this incredibly detailed dive into the evidence. They talked about actual preserved poop—coprolites, they call them—found stuck to things like smooth river rocks in Texas caves, or chewed-up plant leaves called quids. Apparently, in places like Mesa Verde, they even used corn cobs, which, you know, makes sense given the diet. And then they went further, pulling from ethnographic records to show how varied practices were across different groups: the Copper Inuit using snow, the Blackfoot and Navajo preferring specific soft-leaved plants, some Amazonian tribes using saplings or sticks in a way that almost eliminates the need for wiping. It was this amazing tapestry of human adaptation, showing how people used whatever was locally available and effective.
The reaction from everyone else was just… pure delight and fascination. People were saying things like, “I never knew I wanted to know this, but now I’m so glad I do,” or joking that this is exactly what the internet should be for—unexpected, deep dives into the mundane yet universal aspects of human life. There was a real sense of appreciation for the work of archaeologists and historians who piece together these everyday stories that don’t get written down, with one person reflecting on how it connects us to these “lost epics” of human history happening right where our parking lots are now. Some folks chimed in with their own related tidbits, like another archaeologist mentioning cataloging quids that were also used as menstrual pads, or someone wondering about the use of water for cleaning, or even a lighthearted question about whether this is the origin of the term “corn hole.” A few deleted comments and moderator reminders about the subreddit’s rules against personal anecdotes popped up, but they didn’t really derail the main thread. Overall, the mood was one of collective curiosity and respect—treating a seemingly silly question with serious, thoughtful answers that ended up revealing something profound about cultural diversity and human ingenuity. It was less about the shock value and more about this shared moment of learning something wonderfully strange and intimate about the past.
