Tuesday evening just shy of 9pm we had a most welcomed visitor, rain. The afternoon clouds busily announced the pending visit, we all waited. The rain was patient, the drops landed far apart as the cement courtyard was dotted with their arrival.
I stood at the door of my volunteer quarters and watched and listened. We have zinc roofs above the entrance ofthe unit, the rhythm of the rain chatter, a choir of a million whispers.
I opened my door wide, listened and enjoyed the sounds; the immediate drop in temperature that accompanied the cool breeze was wonderful, a gift from Mother Nature.
At the same time that I was enjoying the calm and cool of the rain, a mini precision army of neighbor ladies in the compound went into action and either removed laundry from the lines and or put out a line of buckets and basins to collect water, or both. Their movements were instant and choreographed, it was a drill they have all been through a thousand times before. After only a few minutes, all the laundry lines had been cleared and neat rows of "bucket and basin" soldiers stood ready to catch water.
How an event can be so different based on perspective, I was delighted in the cool evening rain, the ladies while delighted for a bit, were disappointed because the shower was brief and light and they were not able to collect much water.
Since I arrived the water source to the village for those who have running taps like Ceci, has been shut off 90% of the time, so fetching water, the lines, the people walking to and from the tanks were the water is sold, all the activity doubles or triples. Ceci has 3 huge barrels that she keeps filled for reserve, and if she needs to refill, the older girls from school will get fetch or Kwame and Stefan help out. We are fortunate there is a huge polytank stationed right across the street that sells water. We dont have to go very far.
When I ask why the water is not flowing to the village, nobody knows.
------ Short and sweet from my iPad ---------