Hello, everyone. As promised at the end of my “My Life and Times as a Nudist” post, here’s another story about my life as a Native.
One of my chores while living in the barrio with my oldest sister and her family was to fetch water. It was also one of my niece’s chores. So, every day, the two of us would go to the river to fetch water in the morning after we woke up and then again in the afternoon after school.
We carried large earthen pots over our heads to transport the water. I attribute this practice to be the cause for my stunted 5’ 1” height. Judging by the size of my feet, I should be 5’9” (I’ve always wanted to be this height.). Just think what I might be able to see over the fence that now goes unseen - or be able to reach at that height without having to ask someone to get it for me. Alas, the damage was done. Now, I can only imagine what life would be like at that height. I think I’ll sue my sister for child abuse. Perhaps my niece will join me in my lawsuit. After all, her growth was stunted, too.
Sorry, I got sidetracked. Anyhow, at the river, we’d pick a sandy area about twenty or so yards from the river and then we’d dig us a water well. We’d dig the dirt out until we hit water. We’d keep digging still until there was a sufficient level of water to be scooped out. The deeper the well, the more water there was to be had. Of course, the water would come out brown and dirty-looking at first. So, we’d keep scooping the water out, removing the fine sand and the brown water.
Eventually, the new water that would seep into the well would be crystal-clear. So, even if the water in the river was the color of milk chocolate after a heavy rain, the water from the well would eventually be crystal-clear. That, my friends, was our version of a water filtration system. Many times, there’d be wells made already; so, we didn’t have to dig a new one. We just had to remove the old, standing water from the existing one until newly filtered water filled the well again.
Each armed with a coconut bowl in one hand, my niece and I’d take turns scooping water into our own large earthen pots until they were full. To be a great water scooper, you have to follow the techniques of the natives. You have to scoop the water ever so slowly, trying not to stir up the fine sand at the bottom of the well. Otherwise, you end up with a sandy and cloudy pot-full of water, which is not the result you’re looking for.
Well, folks, that’s all for now. See ya’ll here next time to read more about my life as a Native.
Thank you for your time.