I’ve concluded two things recently:
1. I hate dust. It has the potential for making me lose my mind (what’s left of it).
2. If I had to choose between electricity or water, I would choose water. No hesitation.
I’m living in Bunia right now where there is little water and the dust is reaching that insane level, especially when the wind blows. It has been about three weeks since the last rain. Because my brother’s house is almost solely dependent on rain run-off for water, the huge water tanks are almost empty.
And with no rain to temper the dust, it permeates everything. Within hours of dusting the house, you can write your name in the dust on the dining table. I can feel the grit on my computer even though I wiped it off just an hour ago. Yesterday, Jon whacked the arm of the sofa and a cloud of dust rose about a foot. It gets in your ears and nose and settles on your arms like talcum powder. Driving down the dusty Bunia streets is like driving through a fog, and you can’t help breathing it no matter what measures you take to avoid it.
The most difficult thing is that the dust makes you desperate for a bath…but that water-shortage problem prevents it. When I arrived in Bunia three weeks ago, Jon informed me I could have a shower once a week and only flush the toilet when absolutely necessary. One of the MAF families have four children with one in cloth diapers and one being potty trained. They haven’t been able to do laundry for 10 days now. Think about that for a moment…then try to remove the image from your head.
For all of you with endless water and paved streets, savor it and thank God.