[1991] 6yrs old.
My sister stood at the faucet with her hands covered in liquid soap. She turned on the tap, and nothing came out. Arriving home after a family vacation, we quickly found out that we had no water. As we sat in the car on the way to my Dad's work depot, Megan held her hands out with her sticky fingers splayed, which served as a reminder of the solemn realities of drought.
Filling up water bottles and showering at the depot, we returned home and my parents called the man with the water truck. I don't remember how much it cost, but I do remember that the remedy for extreme drought was to buy the water we so desperately needed from the sky. He brought it from another city, and transferred the water to our big cement tank.
During those years, our dams dried up and we only took bubble baths on rare rainy days. Our toilet flushed with recycled water and we didn't care that it was always brown with dirt. In times of struggle, you learn to make do with what you have and treasure what you've got.
No comments:
Post a Comment