The Hole in the Kitchen Floor

I love Bolivia, I really do. But some days I just don't understand this country. Today has been one of those days.

I woke up early to the old men playing soccer on the field below my window. Usually I can sleep through the shouting, but today I was wide awake. I decided to get up and get to work on the massive amount of cleaning that I had to do. Three weeks without water causes a lot of cleaning projects to build up. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the water that had been off the night before had been turned back on and set to work cleaning my bathroom, bedroom, and doing laundry. Everything was going smoothly (with the exception of a spastic sink that wouldn't let the hot water run, but rather spat it out in explosive splurts...but I could deal with that) until I set out to tackle the rather large pile of dishes sitting in our kitchen sink. I washed some very gross chicken-y pans and then let out the dirty dishwater. I then refilled the sink and got work on a week's worth of cereal bowls and tupperware (rememer: we have not had water, we do not usually let dishes build up for a week). As I am washing these, I glance down and am greeted by the sight of all the dirty dishwater I had just let down the drain coming back up through a hole in our kitchen floor. Now, this isn't the first time this has happened, but it is the first time I have witnessed it. Usually we just find half of our kitchen floor underwater and cannot figure out where in the world it came from. Today I solved the mystery. The hole in the kitchen floor. Watching dirty, soapy water come pouring out onto your floor accompanied by the smell of sewage is not a pleasant experience. I finished the dishes, carefully and slowly let the water out, tried pouring hot soapy water down the hole to clean it, and mopped the kitchen floor. But through all of this I could not figure out what kind of system Bolivia has that allows water that goes down the drain to come back up through the floor. Feel free to enlighten me.

And just in case my frustration with Bolivia wasn't complete, I ended up washing my hair 4 times during my one shower this morning. Now to be honest, it was mostly my fault for not reading the label of the shampoo bottle closely enough to notice that it was a shampoo-conditioner in one, which leaves my hair greasy (hence the four washings...yes, it took me washing my hair four times and it still feeling greasy after each one before I looked at the bottle and realized the mistake). However, I feel Bolivia is still to blame, at least a little bit. There is no such thing as one-stop shopping here. In order to get everything on my grocery list any given day I usually have to go to at least 2, if not 3 or 4, stores. This was the second bottle of shampoo I have bought in the last 4 days that did not work. I had been forced to buy kinds that I didn't usually use because the store I was in did not have any of the kinds I do use and I was in a hurry and did not have time to go try 3 other stores. So while I should have read the label more carefully, if stores in Bolivia could just stay in stock I would have never have needed to buy a new kind.

Now, I know this has seemed like Bolivia-bashing, but honestly I love living here, and these little inconviences just add to the experience and make for good stories. I am not angry or bitter, but rather I face these challenges with a laugh and an "oh, Bolivia!". It's just a different place. A place where they enforce speed limits by placing speed bumps every twenty feet on main roads. A place where you can buy any DVD for less than $2. A place where heavy rains can actually cause your water to be shut off for three weeks. A place where you can go 6 months in debt on your telephone bill and never even know it. A place where instead of snow days, you get strike days and rain days. A place where every Saturday, Sunday, and Wednesday large groups of dancers gather to practice for hours to live Bolivian music outside, right under you window. A place where just looking up can offer a breath-taking view of one majestic mountain or another.

A place that I call home. :)