Post by Lara
17 June 2013
Having just surpassed a year spent in Sierra Leone, I’m
finally getting around to writing a post I meant to write sometime last
June—this one is about water, in all the ways we encounter it here. Please forgive any silly errors-- I may not have edited this post as well as others.
One of the first talks we got when we got off the plane in
Freetown was about all the ways water could make us sick—specifically drinking
untreated water. We were provided with
1.5 L bottles of pure water immediately and reminded to only drink from these
and refill them from provided filters.
One of the most difficult habits to get into was using bottled water to
brush our teeth, and making sure not to swallow water that we showered with,
since that is untreated. Now after over a
year in Salone, those little adjustments have become second-nature to us.
The official talk on water safety taught us several
interesting lessons: for instance, did you know that just about every pathogen
in untreated water can be killed by boiling the water hard for just one minute?
I think back to all the “boil water advisories” that went out when I lived in
the states, where the CDC suggested you boil water for 10 minutes before using
it, and I get a sense of the factors of safety surrounding our everyday lives
in the good old US of A—here, boiling for 10 minutes is not only difficult, but
it takes a lot of fuel—we’ve not had an issue with 1 minute of boiling thus
far.
Kevin buying "Binch Akara" |
Beyond the risk of food-borne illnesses, water can play a
role in some other illnesses as well.
First, fresh water in Africa—yes, any
fresh water, even a puddle—can carry schistosomiasis, AKA blood flukes. [For anyone who’s interested, check out the
Radiolab episode on parasites. We loved it!] When we first learned this we were
bound and determined to never swim or wade in fresh water in Africa, which we
tried to do for a while, but it’s nigh impossible to survive rainy season in
Sierra Leone without getting your feet wet, and it doesn’t really feel right
asking our African companions to carry us over every giant puddle we come
across. Long story short, we’ve likely
been exposed to schisto, and we are very happy that it’s PC policy to just go
ahead and treat for it when we leave the country.
Much more common than blood flukes and thankfully also on
the list of things Peace Corps protects us against is malaria, which is carried
by mosquitoes, which need standing water to breed. Guess how much standing water can be found
during rainy season in Salone? Answer:
waaaaaay too much. Kevin and I, though we
take a malaria prophylaxis and are unlikely to get malaria ourselves, are on a
constant crusade to rid our immediate surroundings of standing water (side note:
mosquitoes LOVE me. They really do. So even if I’m never going to get malaria,
I do my best to minimize the mosquito population in my environment so as to cut
down on itchy annoyances). This
anti-standing-water campaign led Kevin to spend an afternoon not long ago
digging a trench to drain the water from the pump we go to, and has also
inspired us to work very hard at perfecting the gutter that runs behind our
house—the faster 8 inches of water can disappear, the better!
In addition to the standing water that pops up all over the
place as the rains come more frequently, all water sources start to brim in
August and sometimes don’t go down again until November or so. The river that runs through our town becomes
especially dangerous in the heaviest part of rainy season, and people drown
here every year—even though many of them are experienced swimmers. When the river is at its peak, the ferry that
crosses it cannot run, and the only way to cross at our crossing is to hop into
a dugout canoe, cross your fingers, and slowly make your way across by first
traveling upstream a few hundred yards and then cutting over as the current
carries you back downstream to the crossing.
It’s mildly terrifying, in case anyone is wondering. On the flip side of that coin, in the driest
of the dry season while the ferry is making its runs, many wells dry up at
least for a time, and people have to travel further and/or resort to using
not-as-clean water for their household needs. A colleague of ours had no water
in her village for the better part of a month, and learned all sorts of
techniques such as saving the water that she rinsed with in a big bucket and
using that water to wash her dishes later.
This may seem a bit unsanitary, but when it comes to conserving water so
you can drink and cook and wash yourself daily, you’ve gotta do what you’ve
gotta do.
Of course rainy season has its upsides too—for one, we can
set our buckets out under the roof and watch them fill up in no time at all
rather than having to walk 100 yards down the hill and back up again with full
buckets; and two, rain tends to lower the temperature a bit, which is lovely
because it is freaking hot in this country.
Outside of the heaviest few weeks of rainy season, we tend to make at
least one trip a day to the water tap down the hill, and carry two 5-gallon
buckets back up to the house for cooking, drinking, bathing, laundering, and
all our household chores. It probably
goes without saying that Kevin and I are both buff as all get-out now that we’ve been doing that for nearly a
year.
Water is a really interesting aspect of life in Salone,
because whether it’s scarce or plentiful it can be a problem (I want you to
know that it’s incredibly difficult to resist the urge to throw in a Samuel
Taylor Coleridge reference here). Another
challenge we face as foreigners living in Salone is the poor health education surrounding
water and proper food-preparation techniques among our local friends and
neighbors here. We do our best to
educate and sensitize those that we interact with, but cholera still exists and
is still making Sierra Leoneans sick, so we have more work to do on that front.
For any of our regular readers—do you have any requests for
post topics? Let us know in the comments
section!
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