Kipilefti

The water in the tap in my backyard is brown with large black flecks in it, more like very thin mud than like water. As I watch it flow into the bucket, I’m very glad that the only thing this water is destined for is to be used to flush my toilet. Even the seemingly clear water, after it sits for a while, has an impressive amount of dirt settle out of it; I shudder to think of the inch or two of silt that will be at the bottom of this bucket.

Despite the awful water I bathe today, a water-intensive maneuver that takes ten to fifteen liters. I’m not too worried about the water: two out of my three twenty-liter buckets of water in the kitchen are full, and the ten-liter bucket of clean rainwater I use to brush my teeth and wash my hands was filled from the rain earlier today. If the mud in the tap persists it’ll probably be because of rains, and if it rains I can put my buckets and basins under the roof to collect water. As long as I’m home to put them out it should be fine. Still, looking at the contents of the bucket I carry back inside, they remind me of nothing more than what my toilet looked like before the plumber unclogged it yesterday. Not a very appealing thought.