House Hunting Turned Bathing Expedition

After a small detour to grab a bag of french fries for a late lunch, we made our way back home. I set off in search of a place to stay for the next several months. I’ve got lodging for a week, then I’m hoping to find a more permanent place of my own. So I went to check out the kind of place that one of my co-workers, Sabina, lives in. She’s in a complex of cement houses that share a faucet and a latrine. She has a one room place with a bed on one side and all her kitchen stuff on another side. It’s pretty clean and really isn’t so bad. I could totally do this – kindda like a studio in NYC. Just a few things are missing.

“Running water? Haha. This is Suba. I don’t think you’ll find that here. And it’s hard to find housing here. Hmmm…”

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard this in the last week. So I figured I better learn how it’s done without running water. In a nutshell, it’s both horrible and glorious.

I’m not going to lie and try to be tough and whatnot. I’m just going to call it like it is. The pit latrine is gross. Plain and simple. G-R-O-S-S. During the day, I think I could handle it, but there is no way I’d creep in there after dark (or so I say now). As Sabina put it, “You train your bowels to go during the day and mostly at work.” Yup, I’d agree with that.

And then there is the shower situation. Well, bathing, really. Most people go down to the lake and bathe in the lake. (The men and women have separate areas.) This was actually pretty nice. The weather is beautiful, the lake water is cool but not cold, and I’ve been assured that “the hippos and crocodiles are not dangerous”. Uh-huh. So what is an American woman to do after running around getting sweaty and dirty all day? I suppose I have to join. Naturally, my fluorescent white skin draws a fair bit of laughter and a few extra women and children to the lakeside, but I can’t complain because I’m laughing my head off and having a ball trying to teach one of the women how to swim. It’s also kindda difficult to give a swim lesson when you are afraid to touch the student to help hold them up because they are in nothing but their birthday suit. I eventually grab one of the buckets used for washing dishes and try to show her how to use that as a floatation device, which seems to work… until she loses a flip flop. Then while we are trying to find the flip flop in the murky brown water, the bucket sinks and then we have to find the bucket. Who knew that bathing could be such a big job!?!?

I like it here. The lake is beautiful. The people are friendly. The work is both challenging and worthwhile. What more could I ask for? Oh… just some sawdust and ash for that pit latrine.