Drip...Drip...Drip...
It is monsoon season in India. The rain falls almost every day from the sky. Dark clouds loom overhead. The humidity is soaring...
And yet, we have no water.
Yesterday afternoon the pump which draws the water from our underground well to our rooftop tank broke. Without warning, all water flowing through the pipes to the taps in our house ceased. There was a mound of dirty lunch dishes. There was a weekend's worth of laundry. There were two dirty children who had fingerpaint and playground sand all over them.
No matter how many times this inconvienence happens, we always realize how much we have taken the previously freely flowing water for granted. We've had two summers with 30-minute per day water. Somehow, although it surely was not fun, we survived.
We forget that we survived. The very instant we turn the tap and nothing comes out, we are sent into a complete panic. Oh, no! How will we cook? How will we clean? How will we flush toilets? (Yes, that's right, even the water going to the toilets doesn't work...)
It is about an hour or two after the panic begins that we remember to just calm down and go hunt down our giant 60-liter buckets and start filling. Bucket after bucket after bucket... Remember how I said my arms were so wimpy? Well, not after lifting 5,000 buckets full of water... I will be completely buff. I will have 'guns'... Oh yeah, this is God's answer to my arm-muscle prayer.
Oh brother.
We don't anticipate this round of water problems to continue very long. But for now, I listen to the drip, drip, drip of the faucet drawing every last little bit of water out of the quickly-emptying pipes.
Time to go change the bucket.
~lk
And yet, we have no water.
Yesterday afternoon the pump which draws the water from our underground well to our rooftop tank broke. Without warning, all water flowing through the pipes to the taps in our house ceased. There was a mound of dirty lunch dishes. There was a weekend's worth of laundry. There were two dirty children who had fingerpaint and playground sand all over them.
No matter how many times this inconvienence happens, we always realize how much we have taken the previously freely flowing water for granted. We've had two summers with 30-minute per day water. Somehow, although it surely was not fun, we survived.
We forget that we survived. The very instant we turn the tap and nothing comes out, we are sent into a complete panic. Oh, no! How will we cook? How will we clean? How will we flush toilets? (Yes, that's right, even the water going to the toilets doesn't work...)
It is about an hour or two after the panic begins that we remember to just calm down and go hunt down our giant 60-liter buckets and start filling. Bucket after bucket after bucket... Remember how I said my arms were so wimpy? Well, not after lifting 5,000 buckets full of water... I will be completely buff. I will have 'guns'... Oh yeah, this is God's answer to my arm-muscle prayer.
Oh brother.
We don't anticipate this round of water problems to continue very long. But for now, I listen to the drip, drip, drip of the faucet drawing every last little bit of water out of the quickly-emptying pipes.
Time to go change the bucket.
~lk
Comments
How I miss thee so
Oh, the days of the bucket
Where my muscles did grow
Oh, the days of the bucket
Without you I wouldn't have known
Oh, the days of the bucket
How for others this is all they know