Drinking Water

Some days I think to myself, “Huh, I wonder what it’s like to have a series of predictable moments in life?” Would I find the chain of predictable moments kind of endearing like an old childhood blanket or would I simply be under-stimulated? Please, someone remind me what it’s like to wake up to National Public Radio in the morning, shower, brew a pot of coffee, go to work, check email, use the Xerox machine, obtain a few signatures, break for coffee, write a memo, do lunch, check email, facilitate a meeting, use the toilet, reply to emails, leave the office, go home, let the dog outside to pee, switch on the local news, cook dinner, eat dinner, take a walk, come home, watch a prime time drama, brush your teeth, curl up in bed with a book, and doze off to sleep.

Because that is not my life these days. Instead, I return home from an outing in Teyateyaneng (TY) on a minibus taxi carrying sixteen passengers and blaring Michael Bolton and Celine Dion to learn that a dead body has been floating around in my water supply for about a week. Apparently, a suicidal patient disappeared from the hospital wards sometime during the past week and staff found the badly bloated and partially decomposed body in one of the hospital’s water tanks this morning.

Obviously this event is wrong on so many levels that I won’t go into right now, but the thing is that I’m awfully thirsty and completely grossed out. I would genuinely prefer not to text message Peace Corps Medical on a Saturday evening with the following: “Hi, if there has been a dead human body floating around in the hospital’s water tank – my water supply – should I be concerned?”

Then again, what do I say to the Hospital Administration and health care providers? “Hello, how’s it going? Say, could you do me little favor? Really, it’s not a big deal or anything, but it would be just super if you could keep track of the patients so they don’t end up in our water supply. Thanks for looking into that for me.”

I doubt anyone’s head will roll for this debacle. Needless to say, I continue to boil my water and run it through my Peace Corps issued filter, as I have done for the past two years. I just gag a lot more this weekend when I drink it. Savor a nice tall glass of cool water for me, everyone. I’m almost home.