I really cherish electronic correspondence with home. There's nothing that makes me happier than a hand written letter from the ones I love, and emails are almost equally as exciting. This week, however, I realized that no matter how much I enjoy writing to you, posting to this journal or 'chatting' through gmail, internet is definitely not one of my necessities.
I'll tell you what is: Water.
Last Monday or Tuesday, late one night, someone snuck in, dug a hole right into our dirt road and stole the 'machine' that pumps water into the whole village one time per week. As if storing water in underground pools and large trash cans wasn't bad enough, now we have no access to water. Of course I didn't realize this last week and I showered normally on Friday morning from what we had stored. On Saturday morning I left for Yerevan expecting a nice warm shower in the city that evening. The shower didn't work out in Yerevan, but I was sure I could last until Sunday evening when I got home....if only I would have known that there isn't water at 'home'. Through observation I learned where I could get water to wash my face and brush my teeth, but by yesterday afternoon I was definitely feeling like Pig Pen. The family said we would buy water from somewhere and that it would be delivered at 6 p.m., but at 9:45 when I stood on the balcony and considered washing my hair in the rain I decided enough was enough. I requested a bucket bath. I learned how to heat the water with a metal rod you plug into the wall and then learned the hard way how not to test if it's warm or not. One bucket of hot water and one half bucket of cold water later I felt much better and went to bed.
So isn't it ironic that for so many weeks I hoped for internet in my village and took the water for granted? Had I known the trade off I think I would have settled for what we had.
Introducing Emelyn Ruth Bornstein
1 year ago