uninspired in Guatemala

We rented a house in San Marcos…..for the last few days Tyler and I have been in the same situation, (but with options), as a billion other people in the world- the billion who do not have access to clean water and sanitation. Let me say though we did buy a big bottle of water- the kind you take the seal off of and turn them upside down on a dispenser of some sort. At work we have the fancy one that cools the water as it comes out. Here in Guatemala we have the kind that you push the little lever and water comes out of the bottom. Anyway, we rented a really cool house in San Marcos la Laguna. It’s perched on the side of a cliff overlooking Lake Atitlan with a slope of deciduous trees, tropical plants and flowers below it. Bird’s fly outside our floor to ceiling windows (that double as doors to open), and small mammals visit us at night. The giant valley facing wall of windows is curved so we are rather like fishes in a bowl, but if a fish had this view, he’d be feeling rather zen- until he remembered he doesn’t have any water.
Isn’t that just perfect for me? The writer and contemplator of the water crisis finally knows, in a very small way, what it’s like to have to live without it. For two days very nice people have been telling us things like “the water will come, we don’t understand, let me try one more thing”….And Fredericka and Stuart really are very nice people. The reality is that I think it is fitting I should get an understanding of what this is like- but I need to wash my hair. And to really understand I would need to not have the 2000Q in my pocket, an ATM card with access to American dollars that can be converted to Q, and a Nikon D90 sitting next to me that I keep picking up to photograph birds as I write this.
We bought the big jug of water and then hired a tuk-tuk to drive us up the hill to our house with it. A woman here, or in India, or Africa, would have had to carry it on her back. We actually get to use a toilet, but we have to fill the tank with beautiful filtered water to flush it. In India, many people go the lake, or field, or side of the road (I have actually seen this).
This morning I’ve had to take stock of how much clean water we have, and what we need to use it for- and even make trade-offs. I filled our water bottles to drink, and two glasses of water to brush our teeth with, a small bowl in the sink to wash dishes, and then the tank on the toilet. The trade-offs are that Tyler won’t get a cup of coffee when he wakes up, we can only flush the toilet once, and we can’t wash our hands. I’ve seen big signs in India, Mexico, and Guatemala that have pictures of a person washing their hands and script that I assume explains about germs and how washing your hands helps stop the spread of germs- and in some countries, actually KEEPS CHILDREN FROM DYING. I’ve often thought when seeing them that it should be so easy and simple, but when you have to make choices about how to use the labor intensive and finite supply you have, washing your hands isn’t a priority. Making sure you have clean water to drink, and perhaps cook with will be higher on the list. I have a bottle of hand-sanitizer in my purse because I can afford to spend a dollar on it, but many people can’t.
So we are leaving our fish tank overlooking the lake today. I’m sitting here in the breeze from the open doors trying to soak up every ounce of peace and beauty I can. I want to remember what it feels like to be here at night listening to the jungle become quiet, with lighted candles, and a beer. But we have a choice, and fortunately, we can leave, get our money back, and find a place with water. As I pack up my stuff, I am thinking about the families that can’t.