Life Without Running Water

Now the post you have all been waiting for.  The real nitty gritty of life in Uganda:  the ins and outs of living without running water (and spotty electricity)

 In Augustine’s compound, we are fortunate enough to have an electrically pumped spout not far from the house.  It is about 100 yards or so, around the corner.  Augustine tells us it is purified somewhere uptown and then pumped to us.  The vague brown-ish tint has me questioning this so-called purification process, so I am sticking to my bottled water for safety. 

 The issue with an electric pump is that electricity is not reliable.  In the first week, the power has gone out three times, which means no water. Usually it is only for a few hours, but this latest one has lasted all day.  I near the neighbors TVs and music, but nothing has been restored to us yet.  Thankfully they keep large jerry can reserves, so we were still able to take tea (the highlight of our days).

 Let’s start slowly with the drinking water.  It must be boiled, but more frequently we purchase bottled water.  Augustine is new to international visitors, and this was a subject we had to broach carefully.  The first day he proudly brought us hand-squeezed passion fruit juice.  But it was mixed with water.  Neither of them knew that water was a hot-button issue for us and still seem to think we will just get over our fears and try it.  They bring out pitchers of water to dinner every night and enough glasses for all of us.  This. Will. Not. Happen. 

 So, how do you shower?  The traditional Ugandan takes bucket showers.  This means exactly what you think it does.  You go to the tap, fill a bucket, carry it into the shower area and splash it over yourself. With your hands.  The water is cold.  Chelsea brought a camp shower with her, so we jerry-rigged that up in the shower area so we at least have some sort of spray.  It is weak and depressing and you have to crouch down to use it, but it exists.  We keep attempting to boil water so we can put it in the shower, but the process must be some ancient secret tradition since Susan refused to let us participate or witness it. Tea just magically arrives at her whim and we get a hot water surprise anytime she is feeling especially charitable (or maybe has extra water).  Since we are skeptical of the water source, you must towel vigorously to avoid parasites.

 

 

 What about brushing your teeth?  This we do standing on the porch, spitting directly onto the ground.  Chelsea and I use our bottled water bottles to rinse.  It’s a weird, but slightly freeing, experience.   

 Dishes and laundry are washed in tubs in the yard. This is a chore we have yet to participate in, but I expect that will change once the weekend arrives.   As I mentioned early, dishes are scrubbed with dirt and then hopefully soap.  Clothes are hand washed in a soap and water tub, and then hung on the line to dry.  There are parasites in Africa that burrow into wet fabric.  If you were to put these clothes on, they would lay “harmless” eggs in your skin.  Yes, you read that right - bugs would hatch and crawl out of your skin.  Given that this is probably #3 on my nightmare list, clothes must be ironed to kill these bugs before they can be worn.  Surprisingly, Susan knew this and has been ironing our clothes in advance of returning them to us.  Bonus.

 Now for the main event.  The real reason all of you are reading this post.  The Pit Toilets.  I have come to understand that Augustine is very well off comparatively.  His latrine structure is made entirely of concrete with a septic tank underneath.  This prevents one of the most disgusting and common challenges to pit toilet maintenance – flooding.  Yup, think about that.

 

 

The toilet is a hole approximately 4 inches across by 8 inches long.  Thankfully the hole underneath is deep enough that you can’t actually see anything.  You have to bring your own toilet paper.  Here they keep it really clean, so it usually doesn’t smell and there are rarely flies.  This is not the case for the pit latrine at Keframa.  That was a horrifying experience that still haunts my dreams.  I am not ready to discuss that yet….

 

 Now that you have put on your brave face and entered the toilet, you might think the worst of it is over.  But you would be wrong.  Actually utilizing the pit toilet is the most challenging part – resulting in highs and lows that can define the rest of your day.  And your shoe choice.

The first challenge is lighting.  Even in the best conditions the toilets are dark.  Most times, they are nearly pitch black.  This makes alignment quite challenging.  The smart thing to do would be to wait a minute until your eyes adjust, but let’s be honest…this is not a place you wish to spend anything more than the absolute minimum time necessary.  The second option is a flashlight, but that becomes yet another thing you have to wield – and not drop into the hole.

 Aim is important, but positioning is the real key.  Trajectories can be unpredictable and a variance of a few millimeters can make or break you.  Time is of the essence and mid-process adjustments are challenging.  This is truly a skill that requires mastery.  For us noives, splashing is an unavoidable consequence.

 The maid our hosts have hired clean the toilets daily.  Although nothing has been said or even insinuated, Chelsea and I know this is because of our failures.  However, we are working to improve.  We have analyzed our approaches, tested new theories and regularly report back on results.  Together…we shall overcome.