water wars

Things have been pretty stirred up here in our neck of Chimbote these past few days.  Apparently, something broke, or something had to be turned off, or something, and what we know for sure is that this whole corner of the city has been without water for five whole days with no certainty of when it’s coming back.

In our part of town, the city water usually comes twice a day, once in the morning and once in the afternoon, for an hour or two at a time.  During that time period, most households fill up large tanks, some on the ground and some on top of the roof, for daily usage.  Once in awhile, the water doesn’t show up, so most people have enough capacity to last a day or two on what they have, but not much longer.  Sometimes a specific house or street will go several days without water, but in that case neighbors are quick to share.  In this case, we’re going on six days of no water to an area of perhaps 3-5,000 households (or maybe more), with no forewarning that people should conserve as much as possible. 

We didn’t even notice until day 3 when one of our neighbors commented on it.  We, unlike most households, have a small well in our backyard that fills automatically when the city water comes.  Then we pump it to a tank on our roof, and thus get running water.  So we started conserving – minimal showering, saving sink water to flush the toilet, etc. – and we still haven’t run out completely.

Saturday night, just about the time when everybody had finally run out of water, I walked out of theater practice and saw a huge line up of people with their buckets lined up on the curb.  Several blocks away, a huge water truck was making its way toward us.  It seemed like a good solution, so I went home unconcerned.  A little while later I went with a neighbor family to take buckets to be filled by the same truck.  What I saw when I got there was complete chaos – the hose on the back of the water truck open, with nobody designated to control it, and ten to twenty people pushing and shoving with their buckets to get filled up.  People were yelling, water was being spilled, the truck driver tried to do his best by advancing when it seemed to get too crazy and going to a spot in the line that was more orderly.  But then people would just bombard the water hose all over again, pushing and yelling to get their share. 

My 15-year-old neighbor said to me, “And these people claim to be Christians.” 

I told him, “In the moment of desperation, we forget what it means to be Christian.”  But I don’t know who’s to blame.

Suddenly, with the water hose still open, the truck driver just took off, leaving water spilling out and lots of people with empty buckets behind him.  I suppose he finally just got fed up.  I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same.

Since that night, the situation seems to have calmed down a bit.  Other water trucks have been coming to fill buckets, and people have realized that there is enough to go around.  But we still wait anxiously, because when conserving water, sanitation tends to go down, everyone seems a little more stressed out, clothes don’t get washed, plants don’t get watered, etc., etc.  It’s okay, though.  Our lives aren’t being threatened, and hey, millions of people around the world live in worse conditions every day, so I can push my water conservation to the limit for a few days. 

It does make one pause and think, though.  The poverty in Chimbote is not a desperate poverty, but where there is a denial of a basic right, there is undignified living.  So we will continue to fight, so that Jesus may be dignified in every man, woman, and child in Chimbote, in Peru, and around the world.

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Two days after I wrote the original post, today, I am finally posting it, and I am happy to say that the water is back!  Yesterday´s newspaper headline on the front page was ¿Until When? with a huge photo of people waiting with their buckets.  Finally lots of pressure got them to hurry up and fix whatever was broken!