Last Friday night Dave and I went to dinner with friends, and
we were discussing some of the annoyances we have contended with while living
in Ghana. Dave shared his “moment of truth” with us, explaining that it occurs
every morning when he flushes the toilet. If the toilet tank refills, his day
will begin nicely with a hot shower. If not, he’s likely taking a bottled-water
spit bath.
It seems that the water goes out most often on Monday
mornings, and Dave rarely shares the outcome of his “moment of truth” with me.
I suspect he figures it would be better for him to be on his way to the office
when I discover there is no water to begin my day, which was the case
yesterday. As annoying as it was not to have water, I was headed to Till’s
beach with a couple of my friends so I figured all would be right with the
water world when I returned in the afternoon.
I washed up as best I could, put on some deodorant, swimming
suit, and a hat, and headed out the door to pick up Lina. Till’s Beach is about
an hour and a half drive from Accra. About an hour into our drive, Lina and I
were visiting with each other when Michael suddenly slammed on his brakes and
pulled the car to the side of the road. As I looked out the front window I
noticed a police officer holding up his arm, directing Michael to the side.
After parking the car, Michael stepped out and approached the officer. I
figured it was just a random stop, which occurs frequently in Ghana.
Previously, the officer simply wanted to know where we were going, and checked
to make sure we had all of the required safety equipment in our car (i.e., fire
extinguisher - don’t ask, cuz I don’t know).
After several minutes, Michael returned to the car, and
pulled back on the road. I asked him why he got stopped and he was
noncommittal, saying everything was fine. Not 20 seconds down the road, the
police officer, now riding his motorcycle, pulled up alongside Michael, again
directing him to pull over. Michael got out of the car to speak with the police
officer. In the meantime, our other friend, Nikki, who was joining us on our
trip to the beach with her mom and her mother-in-law in another car, called
Lina and explained that her driver, Sammy, was telling her that the police
officer wanted to arrest Michael for speeding.
Lina and I tried to think back as to whether we were
speeding down the highway, to which we decided was impossible based on the
number of cars on the road. When Michael returned, he fastened his seat belt,
and pulled back on the road, all while I’m interrogating him on what the cop
wanted. I felt like he didn’t want to discuss it, but both Lina and I wanted to
know the issue. I asked Michael if he was being arrested and he first said no,
and then yes, which actually has a different meaning here than in the U.S.
Basically, the police officer claimed Michael was driving in
excess of the posted 60 kmh speed limit and that the speed limit had changed
from 70 to 60 kmh as he was entering a town. Michael, however, insisted that
there was no posted speed limit sign and did not realize he was so close to
town, otherwise, he would have slowed down. In the end, the police officer took
his driver’s license (common practice), requiring Michael to retrieve it at the
police station, whereby he would be expected to pay some unposted fee in order
to get it back. I guess this is what constitutes “being arrested,” in Ghana.
While we were playing on the beach and in the ocean, Michael
went to the station and picked up his driver’s license after paying a 10 GHC
(Ghana cedi) fine; approximately $5 USD. He was telling me that there is
essentially a bill in Parliament, requiring law enforcement to have posted
fines available. Currently, it seems that the fine assessed depends on whoever
is assessing the fine and is random and indiscriminate.
Regardless, we enjoyed our few hours on the beach and playing
in the very, very large ocean waves. From time to time I would have to pull a
black bag off of my leg, but overall it was fun.
Till’s Beach does have an area where you can rinse the sand
and ocean salt off before leaving, but alas on this day….no water. Hmmmm, a
theme, perhaps? Nah! I was sure that by the time I returned home, I would be
able to jump into a nice, warm shower to rinse the days grime away.
After dropping Lina off at home and working our way through
the rush hour traffic, Michael safely delivered me home. I immediately put the
sandy beach towels in the washer and proceeded upstairs to clean up. I first
used the toilet and unfortunately had one of Dave’s “moment of truth” moments.
The tank did not fill up. Are you kidding me??? I immediately went to the
shower and turned the faucet. NO WATER! Are you kidding me??? I went downstairs and walked down to the
guard station to ask what was going on with the water. The guard turned on the
water in his sink, and out came lots of water! I was told that no one else had
complained about water, so I asked one of the other housekeepers if her unit
had been without water all day, which she confirmed. I asked for Taysec’s
(maintenance) phone number and headed back to the house.
En route, I decided to stop off at a fellow Newmonter’s
house to ask her if they had had water all day. Karen told me that the water
had JUST returned moments before. I was ecstatic and practically skipped back
to my house. Again, to the shower, turned the faucet, and AGAIN….no water! Are
you kidding me???
I called the Taysec number I’d been given and explained who
I was, where I lived, and my problem. She informed me that the water issue had
been resolved and that they had had a pump go down. I explained back to her
that my water was not running yet, and she said she would check into the
problem.
About 20 minutes later my doorbell rang, and I opened the
door to a Taysec gentleman who said that my water should be running now. I had
him follow me to the kitchen where I turned on the faucet to…. no water. He
sort of shook his head and said, “I’ll be right back.” Five minutes later, he
returned, confident the water issue was resolved. To the kitchen, faucet on….no
water. He left again, and returned a third time and said, “You should now have
water. It was a problem with the meter,” and turned to walk away. “Hold on!” I
exclaimed. “Come with me, and let’s check.” He reluctantly followed me. It was
beginning to get dark outside, and I’m sure he was itching to be on his way
home. But me? Well, trust me…I NEEDED a shower….badly!
I turned on the faucet and out came a bit of water. There
wasn’t much in the way of pressure, but there was at least water. He told me
that the meter needed maintenance, but that he was able to get it to work, at
least temporarily, and that he would return the next day to complete the job. I
looked him in the eye and said, “Do you promise me you will return tomorrow?”
Oh yes, madam, I promise.
After thanking him for his work, I shut the door and
proceeded up the stairs to my bathroom, thinking that even though there wasn’t
much water pressure, I could work with it; desperate to be clean. I turned on
the shower, stepped in, and yes…water. Unfortunately, the water never got warm.
I wouldn’t say it was freezing cold, but it was NOT warm either. Nonetheless, I
was able to quickly clean off and wash my hair, so I was definitely thankful.
This morning Dave came in to say goodbye and I asked him if
there was still water, to which he stated “yes.”
"Was it a warm shower?” I asked.“Yes, but the water pressure wasn’t much,” he offered.
This was good news (it’s all about perspective). I got out
of bed, proceeded to do my physical therapy, had breakfast, and sat down to
wait for Michael to take me to the gym. He, however, called to say he had been
delayed dropping off Dave and the others at the airport and that it would be a
bit before he was able to get to the house to pick me up. As a result, I
decided just to work out at home, and told Michael so. I went downstairs, did an
hour of cardio and about 20 minutes of weights.
I walked upstairs to take that all deserving shower, turned
the faucet….no water! Are you kidding me??? The entire week was like this,
mostly little to no water pressure. On Thursday, I finally took all of my
shower stuff to the gym with me and proceeded to clean up there, which was a
good thing because when I came back home….no water.
I was really beginning to wonder if it was just me, but
found out, eventually, that the whole compound was suffering from the same
drought. In the end, the Taysec guy who said it was my meter was full of shit….like
usual. He was just trying to say something to appease me, which it did – short-term.
Evidently, in addition to the pump going out (and God forbid they might have a
spare pump on hand….or in all of Accra), they had discovered many leaks in the
pipes. Who knows what that really means, but I heard tell that House #4 had
pipes that had burst in their house.
We finally received communication from Taysec via a letter
left under our door last Thursday (after four days with virtually no water),
that told us that they were sorry for the inconvenience but that we can be
assured that they are working around the clock to fix the hour. Um….I’ve been
in Ghana for almost two and a half years, and I can honestly say that I don’t
think anyone works around the clock. They were certainly not here in our
compound!
So, here it is 12 days after my initial problem with the
water, and I would have to say that 70% of the time, the water is out. The
water truck, mind you, has been coming to the compound 3-4 times a week, which
you would think would be a good thing. However, I don’t. To me it just means
that the leaks are getting bigger, which means we are going through water in
our compound at mach speech!
So, now that I’ve complained, it’s time to put it all into
perspective. There are so many people in this country who truly have nothing.
Many people have to walk long distances to get their water, and I’m sure they
are much more water conscious, conserving what they do have.
Trust me! I will never again flush a toilet or take a shower
in the U.S. without being eternally grateful for our many conveniences.
