Agua!

One of the ironies of living here in Ayapango is that there is lots of water everywhere. When it rains, it really rains. But for us in our little house water has been scarce. There is really not much of a city water system. It’s there. I mean the pipes are. They just don’t have running water in them most of the time, and when they do it’s pretty yucky. So everyone has a well. I’ve learned the word for pump very well in the past few weeks, it’s bomba. I’ve also learned how to describe water flying from pipes, el agua está tirando de las tuberías, what to say when the pump has run dry, la bomba ha secado, what to say when water is flying from something on the roof where the water tank is, algo está tirando agua en el techo tal vez el tanque, and most importantly what to say when we don’t have water for anything, like flushing the toilet or washing the dishes or showering or shaving, no tenemos agua.

While I’m writing this on our preparation day, we are waiting for the friendly repairman, whom we and our landlord are getting a little tired of seeing. He rides to our house with his tool boxes strapped to the handle bars of his bicycle and with his wife riding on the back standing on two rods protruding from the rear axel. I should mention that his front brakes dangle uselessly beside the front tire. When I asked him about them, he just smiled and shrugged. In all fairness, I should mention that the landlord is part of the problem, he has refused to spend the money recommended by our repairman to really the fix the problem…and also us—two rather ignorant gringos, who didn’t even know there was such a thing as a water pump until we ran out of water the first time. After which we found out that the process of filling the tank wasn’t exactly automatic by leaving the pump on way too long and probably creating the issue in the first place. That’s why I love this place, the people are so friendly and patient, for the most part.

Last week we helped the elders teach a wonderful family who live just a block from us. The father drives a taxi cab and the mother works tirelessly as the sole employee of her restaurant and catering service. Both working long hours so their children can go to school and the local university. The Spirit filled the room during the lesson, in the way that everyone was of the same heart and mind, teacher and student. It burned as a warm ember in our souls. At the end the mother gave a beautiful prayer. This is a family truly prepared by the Lord. Two days later, the elders were moved from our area and so we are left alone to do the teaching. The mission president suggested that we call upon a pair of sister missionaries in the neighboring town to help us. “Thank you, Presidente!”