So let me start by saying that I really want to write a blog that is meaningful and includes pictures of my experience. I have so much that I would want to write about, but it is hard for me to put it into words and make it something interesting. The thoughts that ring through my head on a daily basis as I live in Luanda and observe the culture at work and through my daily commutes and occasional weekend adventures have much to say. Writing about the feelings that I am having during this journey makes me very nervous. I am going to try this through the following story. I have lived here and enjoyed the people and what they do for less than two months. Water.
What an odd thought for me, water. Everyday of my life since I have been here I think about water. I have a 1 gallon distiller. I distill a gallon every other day. Otherwise I drink the bottled water provided at my office. In general I am not drinking the appropriate amount of water a day (64oz is what "they" say). None the less I am very aware of my water supply. Wouldn't want to run short.
I received a email message last monday that there was a water shortage in Luanda and that we needed to refrain from outside water usage (washing cars & watering gardens).
FYI..where I am currently located water is a general issue (see the previous pictures, that is salt water Dustin)
I have always taken for granted my ability to
drink water, shower, brush my teeth, scrub my genitals, or use my loofa on my my hairy back (I actually don't have a loofa). I can do all these things and more!!
As I ride home down the Samba I see things The Samba is the only thoroughfare from the city to the south where the compound is located. Over the past couple of weeks I have observed people utilizing a water source from right off of the side of the Samba. This water source can be no more than a burst pipe. This pipe is bursting out of a sewer. People congregate daily to get that water. The first day I saw this place I watched three young boys spilling the water over themselves like it was the fountain of youth (naked as shit for everyone to see). So happy. From that point I have watched people crowding the exposed line with every makeshift water container they could find. As I write this people are sitting at that line getting water that may or may not be potable. I hope they are boiling it. If not....
When I received the notification that I would not be aloud to wash my car i chuckled (btw some people in my situation are upset,again see pictures below,). I am still taking hot showers. When i got into my car that day it got real. I realized that the restrictions at my place of residence were laughable, but what about Marco. Marco is my "regular" driver (5 days/4 days). Adriano is my "relief" driver. If I have not said so yet, I have to be driven everywhere I go. Marco and Adriano do a good job by me. Adriano is gruff we do not speak much. Marco is a joyful man and he and I are teaching each other Portuguese/English as we can. He has 3 children. 2 girls 6 & 3 and his son 2 and a wife as well:)
When I got the notification of the water shortage I asked Marcos in our broken Portuguese about the water. He pulled over...this has never happened. We synced up our Portuguese and I asked if he had water for his family. He turned and looked at me and said "no water". Even though i already felt the answer, I was crushed. The only thing that I could muster was "vou mi casa" , in Portuguese means "i go my house" and I waved my hand to go. I wanted to tell him that I will help when we get to my house. The language barrier continues to be a struggle. When we arrived I gave him whatever water I had (6 liters). He had to return from the gate to have me sign a letter to exit with the water. What?? I understand there has been some theft, but eyes opened. So apparently there has been some theft and I understand.
So the week goes by and I continue my daily drive down the Samba. Marcos has been off for three days, see the schedule above. I have had a great week, really started to settle. This is great. The work is good and all.
I received a notification that the water shortage ended and that gave me relief>
As we drove home today I asked Marco if the water was better? We bantered in our broken Portuguese with no results. I asked " cuantos semanas no agua? broke portuguese for how many weeks no water. No answer. I begin to say uma semana, dois semanas, he speaks up and says in perfect broken english uma mes no water. 1 month!!!! Again my heart is broken. We continue in perfect broken portuguese about the water situation. I learn that he gets his water by buying it from a water truck that regularly cruises his neighborhood (see pictures, he lives right above the picture of the red church building). That water truck has not been there in 1 month! We continue about the water and I ask him if they have enough to drink. He says "ok". I say "para the"(for you?). He says no. He goes talkative as all hell,hand gestures and all. He explains that the water i gave him is only for his "babies" (i taught him that), no cleansing or cooking and no water for he and his wife. I try to tell him if they have no water to drink to tell me. I may have well have been speaking Chinese. It does not work. I decide to call my friend to get some help. He gives me the portuguese. I tell him to tell me if they do not have water to drink to tell me. He is prideful and thinks a moment, but in the end he agrees and I say "vou shop rite" where i load my car with water. He is going to come tomorrow and go on "lunch break" and take the water to his house. They say you cannot help everyone and the best way is to help the people who work for you. I will. I got a couple of chocolate bars for him and by the look on his face I think this will improve his King status more than the water, of course.
I have been here for 1.5 months and I love the work that I am doing.
