I’m going to continue with this series, since it look like the Chicago shutdown is going to be longer than most. As rough as it may be for me and the rest of us Americans coping with social isolation, we should remember how tough it can be in the developing world.
One of the basic needs all humans have is water. We in the US take it for granted that not only will we have running water for a toilet or even a hot shower, but we can drink our water from the tap. I had a conversation with my 17 year old daughter today about how plain the taste of water is. Well, I can tell you that during my time in the DR, I learned to love water – warm, cold or however I got it.
Beyond the fact that I would literally sweat a gallon or more water per day down there, there was no true running water in El Factor at the time of my service. I used the latrine, which for us gringos is a wooden shack with a hole in the ground to poop into. I shared the latrine with the owner of my little house. The owner, Bulingo, was what we called a Doña. Doña is a term of respect for the lady of the house. Well, as I understand it, Bulingo’s father won the lottery back in the day, so, she owned several houses in El Factor. She also owned 2 cars – a Lexus and Mercedes, but didn’t drive herself. She lived in the house next door to my little casita. The big house had a full bathroom that would rival any one in the US, but despite the pipes, there was no actual water service. You still have to fill up a bucket in the back of the house which had a tube connected to the town aqueduct that just spilled water out all day into large bowls and buckets. I believe Bulingo charged neighbors and other people in the town to get water from her.
Now, that water was also ice cold. Now, a freezing cold bath could be quite refreshing after a full day of sweating, but if you have ever taken a truly cold shower, then you know that the first time that water hits your head or body you literally lose your breath. I mean I still had to hold my breath just a bit for that first bowl full of cold water on my head to start the bath. By the end of my service, I did have it down to washing my entire body in 18 measuring cups full of water. Plus, I learned to understand why we call swimming suits, “bathing” suits because I had to wear one when I bathed.
A quick little story before the Colmado adventure below, Bulingo allowed me to bath in the house for the first 2-3 weeks of my service. I would get naked, wrap myself in a towel, go in the back to grab a bucket full of that ice cold water, then head into the main house’s bathroom (again no actual water just nice tile), and the close the door to take my bucket bath, as we called it. However, you see, Bulingo had an 18 year old granddaughter who lived in the house with her. Jasquiee was her name or Jackie. Now, unbeknownst to me at the time, Jackie had a much older boyfriend named, Franklin, who’s father owned the Ferreteria or hardware store in town. I think Franklin was 30 or so, and he was a big shot in town with a motorcycle and had a lot of money given the family business. One night after a party at the big discoteca – Basilon – I returned to my casita next to the big house, and Jackie was on Franklin’s motorcycle – the time was 1 AM or so. She had a bag in her hand, and off they went into the night.
In the morning, Bulingo yelled at me saying that I had made Jackie “se fue por la ventana” with Franklin. At the time, I didn’t understand what the hell she was talking about. Jackie left through the window? There was a popular merengue song at the time – “Maria Se Fue” – Maria she left, which means Maria ran away with someone. In this case, Jackie had essentially eloped with Franklin – that is what “se fue por la ventana” meant. As you can imagine in a mostly Catholic country, once you have sex, then you are essentially married. I guess that night was that night for Jackie and Franklin. Bulingo never allowed me to bath in the main house ever again. Apparently, my hulking 23 year old, vegetarian sculpted body turned on Jackie so much, she had to run off with Franklin. Just hilarious. So, for the rest of my 2 years in El Factor, I had to bathe in my bathing suit behind the big house with Bulingo’s grandson, Kiorman.
Anyway, Doña Bulingo still used the latrine just like I did. Unfortunately, the old latrine which was made of palm wood was old as hell. So, the chickens she raised for eggs would nest inside the latrine at night. In the unfortunate situation when I had to poop at night, I had to hope the chickens wouldn’t peck my ass while I was doing my business. It was a constant battle.
(Note not rail skinny at that point)
The story I wrote back in 1997 in my first month of service has to do with the other element of water in the DR. Despite having that water pouring into those buckets every day, you could not drink it. So, you had 3 choices – collect rain water in large barrels (probably better in the real campo), boil the water from the tube or “llave” to kill all impurities (which took a lot of time) or buy large 5 gallon jugs of water to drink and cook with. I opted for the last option. So, this story is about my first trip to the “colmado” or corner store to buy my first 5 gallon bottle of water. Who knew all the pitfalls and lessons I would learn on this simple trip.
Enjoy.
Life Under the Mosquito
“Vamos al Colmado”
I had some “tiempo libre,” (free time) so I thought I’d buy a couple of things I needed. I, first, wanted to fill my kerosene lamp to be prepared for another blackout and matches. Then, I would find a place to buy bottled water in my first 5 gallon bottle. I figured this whole process would take 15 minutes, 20 tops.
So, I left my casita with 85 pesos and the kerosene base of my lamp, ready to roll. I walked the ½ block down to the colmado. It was nearly 3:30 in the afternoon and the doors were still closed. It is a regular practice in the smaller towns to be closed for the siesta from 12 Noon to 2 PM, every afternoon, but 3:30, come on now. A woman who was walking down the street informed me that the colmado would open after the owner returned from Los Limones (the next town over). Of course, this was after I asked 2 muchachos that were hanging from the colmado gates like it was a jungle gym with no response for the previous 5 minutes.
The nice woman led me to the woman who lived next door to ask about the colmado. “Sientese,” (Sit down) she said to me. So, I sat down in the rocker inside her typical Dominican house complete with a hutch filled with ceramic figurines of Jesus, and her attractive jovencita 22 year old niece sweeping the floor. The Doña, Maria, who goes by another nickname that I couldn’t remember and her niece were watching “Quirpa de Tres Mujeres,” a popular television novella. I introduced myself, and they spoke to me in fairly unintelligible Spanish. I nodded and said “Si” a lot understanding about half of what they were saying to me.
It turns out the colmado would not open until 5 PM. So, I was invited to stay for some café. “No me gusta café,” I said, but the pot was brewing, and I knew with the sugar content that the coffee strength would be bearable. My task-oriented mind changed to the water bottle. I asked about where I could get one. The familiar response came back, “Ya arriba” (Up the hill).
I stayed watching the novella, and the 22 year old niece’s 2 year old naked son waver between utter terror of this large blond buffoon in his home and uncontrollable giggles from the “payaso” (clown) before him. The café was good. It is a mystery how people can drink steaming hot café in 90+ degree weather.
After the café, Isabela, the 22 year old, and I walked up to the other colmado to buy the water. It was now after 4 PM, and this colmado was also closed. We talked with the owner. She was going to bathe and would open back up in 15 minutes, or so she said. The cost would be 150 pesos for the initial bottle and water with each time after that only 12 pesos. I couldn’t help but think if that was the special, “Americano” price for it or the actual price.
So, my plan was to walk back to my house, obtain the additional funds, wait for the colmados to open, and finally buy the things I had wished for nearly an hour ago. As I was walking back, the owner of the first colmado had returned. Things were looking good.
I grabbed the cash and headed to Colmado #1. At the corner, I encountered Isabela again with the Doña of the corner house. Of course, she invited me to “Sientese” again. I did. I again explained what I was all about answering questions I really didn’t understand. Before I knew it, I had “leche con café” in my hands complete with the dreaded milk skin on top of the cup. Oddly enough, the woman left me alone with Isabela to keep me company in the house. It is not typical for women to be left alone with strange men in the DR.
I downed the milk, which gave me an upset stomach immediately. We left together to buy the things I wanted, now an hour and a half ago. The kerosene purchase was easy. We put the lamp and matches in Isabela’s house out of the hands of the naked boy. Marching back up the hill for the 5 gallon water bottle, we found the other colmado was still closed. How long can you take a cold bucket bath, anyway? However, after knocking, the woman opened up for us.
I carried the surprisingly heavy bottle back to my casita. Isabela helped me by carrying the lamp and matches to my place. Upon arrival, I opened the door to my casita, thanked her for her help, and shook her hand.
The minute she walked away, I turned around to my angry Doña, Bulingo. She began whispering to me all the dirt on poor Isabela. How Isabela has 5 hombres and one is a real “tiguere” (player) who if he knew I was messing with Isabela that he would cut my throat. This is not to mention that she has AIDS and is a thief. I got all of this information given to me three times over in about 5 minutes. To moderately confirm the info about AIDS, Isabela’s mom did mention how she could not have more children and had a problem that the doctors could not fix. I understood that much of what was said. I just found it fascinating how quickly this information was given to me and as if I was going to jump in the sack with Isabela after one colmado encounter. Gossip and public word are the strongest forces on the island of Hispanola, apparently. Association and social behavior define an entire lifestyle or many lifestyles of a neighborhood. There are eyes everywhere and with those eyes there are always mouths spreading something. I suppose the US and European papperazi are direct extensions of that same human desire.
Here I was, it was just after 5 PM, and I thought the adventure was complete including the Afternoon Special moral of the story. Wrong!! After instruction on good people and bad people by Bulingo, I entered my casita to an ever-growing puddle of water on my floor. At that moment, I remembered the bottle dripping a little while I was carrying it the block or so back to my casita. I thought nothing of it at the time, but now it was apparent that there was a hole in the 150 peso bottle.
I attempted to turn the bottle so it would not leak more to no avail. Bulingo told me to bring back the bottle for a new one. Senon, a peripheral member of the family, carried the bottle back “arriba” to Colmado #2 and helped me transfer the water to a new bottle. At last, we returned to the casita victorious at 5:45 PM with my little trip to the colmado complete. I now know that a little trip to the corner store is always more than you bargain for in Dominican life.