Water flows right?
You turn on your tap each morning and it’s magically there ... so you brush your teeth.
Next the shower; you hop in, dodging the sprays of steaming hot water, turning the cold tap up, the hot tap down, marked red and blue accordingly, until the shower head shoots out a consistently streaming, soothing temperature.
And, those dishes left on the counter from the night before; just a flip of the tap fills that sink. Better yet, load them in the dishwasher and with a press of a button they’re clean within half an hour.
Don’t forget that load of laundry; pour in the soap, throw in the soiled clothes and turn a knob, just before you rush out the door to work.
Water even flows out of sight, doesn’t it?
Yes, I remember those days well ... perhaps miss them ... and then again, not, as I realize how much I took the turn of a tap for granted.
I have been living in my comfortable abode in Labadi, Accra, without flowing water for almost five weeks now.
So has the hospital down the street. On and off for six months, relying upon the fire service to fill its tanks for an additional cost of about $50/day, when water is usually provided for free by Ghana Water Service Company Inc. (GWSC, Inc.) Surgeries are postponed, nurses lug buckets up the stairs, as there is no elevator, and patients are forced to pay to use toilets without even the means to wash their hands.
Along the dirt roads that surround my home, young girls, their mothers, even children barely out of their days as diapered toddlers, balance gallon yellow plastic water jugs filled to the brim on their heads, trekking God knows how far so dinner can be cooked, babies bathed and laundry done. Others carry ten empty jugs at a time across their backs, some even riding bicycles to destinations where taps aren’t running dry.
When I reflect upon this, the bucket baths, pouring water over my head from one small container to the next and letting the yellow mellow, only flushing the brown stuff, seem a delight. While, the search for those gallon water jugs - borrowed from Ghanaian friends – and the trek around the city to find a flowing pipe are a breeze. My roommates and I may have the means to pay up to $10 to fill our three big garbage bins with more water every few days but the manicurist, Angela, across the dirt road from us certainly does not.
So, the lights are on, but the pipes are dry. Accra has left a power crisis and entered a water shortage.
I know, I know ... it’s Africa, right? And, I, after all, expected it to be this way, didn’t I?
The confusing side of it all is that just 20 metres from my home, the ditches are full, which means water flows out of the taps down there. Our ditches, which are interconnected, remain dry, with nothing but scattered litter and moist sewage, which gets shovelled up and dumped along the side of the road every few days when it's dry. I still have yet to understand the piping system in this city.
So, why the water shortage you ask?
Well according to GWSC Inc., the Weija and Kpong Head Works, the city’s two main water suppliers, are running over capacity with the Greater Accra area demanding 50 million gallons of water each day. A $30-million project, funded by the government and private sector, will expand the capacity to 150 million gallons of water daily. Catch is ... it won’t be completed for a year and a half (Lets hope they’re not running on Ghanaian time). Until then, communities will continue to experience the on and off water supply, especially since Ghana has just entered the dry season. This should prove interesting when thousands of visitors enter Accra for CAN2008 in January.
So, as I type this latest entry sitting upon a dirty sheet crumpled up on my bed, wearing a sweaty tank top and stained pants (I have yet to another round of laundry since I don’t want to waste our water supply), I think about the day living out of a bucket of water will become normal to me.
I yearn for the day that rushing out to find gallon jugs and a flowing pipe will no longer feel like an incredible effort but rather a part of day to day life.
And, I wonder why exactly, being as spoiled as I am, I thought before I left for Ghana that these adjustments would come so easily to me?
Like water, I’m learning to flow.
You turn on your tap each morning and it’s magically there ... so you brush your teeth.
Next the shower; you hop in, dodging the sprays of steaming hot water, turning the cold tap up, the hot tap down, marked red and blue accordingly, until the shower head shoots out a consistently streaming, soothing temperature.
And, those dishes left on the counter from the night before; just a flip of the tap fills that sink. Better yet, load them in the dishwasher and with a press of a button they’re clean within half an hour.
Don’t forget that load of laundry; pour in the soap, throw in the soiled clothes and turn a knob, just before you rush out the door to work.
Water even flows out of sight, doesn’t it?
Yes, I remember those days well ... perhaps miss them ... and then again, not, as I realize how much I took the turn of a tap for granted.
I have been living in my comfortable abode in Labadi, Accra, without flowing water for almost five weeks now.
So has the hospital down the street. On and off for six months, relying upon the fire service to fill its tanks for an additional cost of about $50/day, when water is usually provided for free by Ghana Water Service Company Inc. (GWSC, Inc.) Surgeries are postponed, nurses lug buckets up the stairs, as there is no elevator, and patients are forced to pay to use toilets without even the means to wash their hands.
Along the dirt roads that surround my home, young girls, their mothers, even children barely out of their days as diapered toddlers, balance gallon yellow plastic water jugs filled to the brim on their heads, trekking God knows how far so dinner can be cooked, babies bathed and laundry done. Others carry ten empty jugs at a time across their backs, some even riding bicycles to destinations where taps aren’t running dry.
When I reflect upon this, the bucket baths, pouring water over my head from one small container to the next and letting the yellow mellow, only flushing the brown stuff, seem a delight. While, the search for those gallon water jugs - borrowed from Ghanaian friends – and the trek around the city to find a flowing pipe are a breeze. My roommates and I may have the means to pay up to $10 to fill our three big garbage bins with more water every few days but the manicurist, Angela, across the dirt road from us certainly does not.
So, the lights are on, but the pipes are dry. Accra has left a power crisis and entered a water shortage.
I know, I know ... it’s Africa, right? And, I, after all, expected it to be this way, didn’t I?
The confusing side of it all is that just 20 metres from my home, the ditches are full, which means water flows out of the taps down there. Our ditches, which are interconnected, remain dry, with nothing but scattered litter and moist sewage, which gets shovelled up and dumped along the side of the road every few days when it's dry. I still have yet to understand the piping system in this city.
So, why the water shortage you ask?
Well according to GWSC Inc., the Weija and Kpong Head Works, the city’s two main water suppliers, are running over capacity with the Greater Accra area demanding 50 million gallons of water each day. A $30-million project, funded by the government and private sector, will expand the capacity to 150 million gallons of water daily. Catch is ... it won’t be completed for a year and a half (Lets hope they’re not running on Ghanaian time). Until then, communities will continue to experience the on and off water supply, especially since Ghana has just entered the dry season. This should prove interesting when thousands of visitors enter Accra for CAN2008 in January.
So, as I type this latest entry sitting upon a dirty sheet crumpled up on my bed, wearing a sweaty tank top and stained pants (I have yet to another round of laundry since I don’t want to waste our water supply), I think about the day living out of a bucket of water will become normal to me.
I yearn for the day that rushing out to find gallon jugs and a flowing pipe will no longer feel like an incredible effort but rather a part of day to day life.
And, I wonder why exactly, being as spoiled as I am, I thought before I left for Ghana that these adjustments would come so easily to me?
Like water, I’m learning to flow.
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