I know it is boring for me to keep talking about the Malarial Pit of Despair but, seriously, I just can't get enough of it. So the latest palaver? We can't bathe.
Remember how I mentioned the wretchedness of the road and the fact that the whole area used to be a swamp that was just loosely filled in with gravel? The upshot of that reality is that whenever anything heavier than my Rav4 tries to drive out, it becomes inextricably stuck in the mire that is our road and they have to slowly and painfully dig themselves out.
We have, now, gone through every water company in town, I think, and they all refuse to come out, having all experienced and/or witnessed this little debacle in action. So none of them will come out to deliver water to us. And, for some unknown reason, our logistics department won't acknowledge this and buy us barrels so that we can just start using handpump water only. Meaning we all, from the baby on up, smell very very bad and are constantly trying to find ways to shower at other people's houses.
For those keeping score, the other house has water delivered three-four times a week.
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2 comments:
No doubt that's contributing to your wanting to leave Africa. Maybe moving to a better-managed project would help you feel better about the place in general.
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