Shit buckets and blown water mains

So the water in Buenos Aires has been off for 3 days. The water was sketchy before, mostly working in the morning or night, but now we have no water at all. No one in the house has had a shower in this time, and the temperatures have been in the 30’s, which means we fester in the no-air conditioned rooms, laying horizontal as much as we can with fans in our faces, trying not to move for fear of initiating a sweat. Our skin has taken on a sticky quality, and you when you scratch, shit comes off under your nails. The face I see in the mirror is a holy terror; an unkempt, unshaven, greasier version of my former self. Berlin was cold, frigid even, but at least you could escape from it by going inside.

To flush the duecer, we trudge down to the street corner where we fill up buckets and then use the water to drown our shit down the drain. It’s fucking nasty. Our Porteno roommates laugh because Peter and I are aghast at our perceived lack of civility, but for them it’s normal. The water plant down out in the suburbs is always going down, although not usually till the middle of Jan or Feb when it starts to get hot. So they sip their Tang, play the guitar, and go about their lives uncomplaining.

I really love it here.