At Least I Still Have Rainwater… For Now

A friend mentioned that I haven’t written anything in a month. I’m aware of this, but as I told my friend, I don’t (well didn’t) have anything new to write about. Well that all changed yesterday evening. I came home after work to find buckets and bowls lined up outside, in an area where rain rolls the strongest off the tin roof. I didn’t think anything of it, other than my host family was using the heavy rainfall as an opportunity to collect rainwater. A few hours later, my host sister informed me that the rain broke the water pipe. These last couple of days the rain has been strong, but I didn’t think it was strong enough to break water pipes… Apparently so. Anyway, my host sister claims that the pipe will be fixed today, which is Saturday here. Let me tell you something about Samoa. No disrespect to the Samoan culture but Fridays in this country are very laid-back and relaxed, almost serving as a stepping stone to the weekend. That’s how the schools are anyway. So I’m not hopeful that the water pipe will be fixed on a Saturday. And Sundays are off limits because that’s the Lord’s Day, reserved for church, eating, sleeping, and more church. So I anticipate Monday being the earliest I’ll have running water.

I’d be lying if I said that I was 100% fine after hearing this news. I wasn’t, in fact it put me in a sour mood. Before anyone gets critical, yes, I’m aware that this is what I signed up for when I joined the Peace Corps. I have it better than I ever imagined and better than a lot of PCVs worldwide. So that was the thing I kept reminding myself as I thought about this mini tragedy. But it’s difficult having running water one moment, and being nearly waterless the next. The thoughts that ran through my head were: “I knew I should’ve washed my hair yesterday,” “It’s going to be a nightmare getting shampoo out of my hair from now on (because my hair is really long and thick),” “I wish I would’ve filled up my water filter,” “Well looks like my laundry will be sacrificed for a while,” and “F*** this sh**.”

When I lived in Savai’i I purposely took bucket baths; they were lovely because I used to boil water. I had my own house, with indoor facilities so this was a simple thing to do. Now I share outdoor facilities, so boiling water for a bucket bath would be too much of a big deal and nearly impossible since our buckets are limited. Anyway, after my workout last night I had a bucket bath. It was around 8 pm, so it was already dark and somewhat cold. I’ve taken a few cold water bucket baths since I’ve been in this country, and this is how they feel every time: like I’m purposely torturing myself because the water is freezing cold. For some reason bucket baths feel 10x worse than standing under a cold water pipe. Perhaps it’s the notion that the best thing to do is just jump into a pool, allowing your body to feel the cold at once, so it can adapt quicker, as opposed to exposing your body to the cold water a little bit at a time, which always makes the water feel colder than it is. My bucket bath lasted just a few minutes; I got out as fast as possible. I think my host family knew that I was upset because they asked me how I was doing. It’s not their fault, and I’m not acting like it is either. It’s just that these last 6 weeks since I’ve been back from America have been a rollercoaster of emotions. It all boils down to the fact that I’m lonely here, which is interesting because people surround me all day. I just really miss my family, friends, America, and I’m ready to get the ball rolling with graduate school and other aspects of my personal life. So the loneliness on top of being without running water is what caused me to think the curse words mentioned above. But like I’ve mentioned in my previous blog post, my Peace Corps service will be over at the end of the year. While it seems like an eternity away, it really isn’t, and I know my time will come to an end faster than I anticipate. So I’m going to suck it up and embrace this experience. Because come on, when else in my life will I ever get to take cold water bucket baths, on a tiny island, located in the South Pacific? Probably never again.

Eventually the rain will stop, which means that the rainwater will come to an end. There’s a river located in the neighboring village, about a 15-minute walk. I guess that’s where the water fetching headquarters will be. Fifteen minutes is very close, but I anticipate it being a struggle when I’m carrying a bucket full of water. I’m not going to think about that now though, and will leave the worry for when the time comes.

I must add, when I was feeling sorry for myself, as described above, I thought back to my Mid-Service Conference, which was held at the end of January. The conference began with each member of my group sharing a little bit about our first year in Samoa. I shared all the hardships I’ve faced, which everyone was aware of, but I acknowledged them anyway because I haven’t been scared away; they’ve made me into a stronger person. If I can survive my first year of service, which was full of a lot of uncertainty, heartbreak, change, and tears, then there’s no reason why I can’t survive anything else thrown my way.

Collecting rain water

My bath. Also, this is the bucket used to wash laundry.