Good morning – it’s Sunday morning and as usual I’ve been awakened by the morning Call to Prayer. But they’re going full tilt here and I can’t quite figure it out. It’s a Muslim Mosque, but the sounds emanating from it are distinctly southern Baptist gospel (I recognize this from my youth) and broadcast for all of Gulu to hear.
If I were smart I’d be out doing my laundry and hanging sheets in the hope they’ll dry before the afternoon rains start and…. there is WATER flowing through inside pipes. We already have a sheet set, rescued from the rain yesterday, hanging in the Malaria room (so called because it housed a friend with Malaria). I discovered it (running water – not the sheets) after getting home late from a harrowing trip to the bush yesterday. Thrilled at the prospect of being able to flush my toilet without having to haul water, I did what people do after no access to facilities for 9 hours, then flushed!
What is that water fall sound?? That would be water gushing from the tank. I removed the lid – to fix whatever ails it and got splatted in the face when a mini-Yellowstone geyser of 6 inches exploded from a broken plastic fitting I’ve never seen on any other toilet. There is no water turn off valve – so when you have water – you have water like it or not. Now what! I rummage around and found one of those butter-soft half inch pieces of crap that double as candles and shoved it in tip first to stop the geyser. Good to know they have some secondary function – like shoving candle wax into a tooth when there’s no dentist around. Well – I can’t stand here and hold it all night. Run – get the housemate. Two heads – and four hands will certainly find something. He graciously separated himself from his book and only seconds later, a full flood has formed in the bathroom. “Wait! What’s that blue thing floating – looks like a toy… No? Stick it on top of the geyser! ” Ah – success came with a long string of DENTAL FLOSS, used to tie the pieces together.
Guess all that new found water pressure was too much for it. Crisis averted, I have to clean up. Nothing like a real mop here and towels are in short supply, so I was left with having to re-distribute the water and found what passes for a mop (it has about 6 strings on it) and decided to use this newfound excess of water to “mop” the floors One never lets water go to waste in a country with a water shortage. Never-mind that the house was in the full grip of darkness – I can always find the floor. And so went the homecoming.
Ah – now I can fix dinner. Too tired to do much more, I washed the S— off the eggs I purchased yesterday in the grocery store and cut up a tomato to fix a scrambled egg. Walking back to the room I slipped and fell on the still slick floors. Certainly I am being punished for some transgression… Perhaps it was the thoughts held in the back seat of the Toyota truck in the three hours it took to go 50 miles through mudpits and ponds and high grass to get back. The truck, by the way, is affectionately known as “The Daughter of Japan,” the term “Son of Japan” being reserved for the big range rover vehicles typical of the large NGO’s like USAID, UN, UNICEF, etc. But the Daughter of Japan knows how to handle a road and god bless him, so does Emma, the driver. I will not even THINK in derisive tones again about road conditions.
More on the trip to the bush later. I have to go do laundry.
N