H2O conundrums

If I ever encounter one of Cajabamba's potentially non-existant water authorities, I am going to ask them a very serious question: how can the water at my house be cut off when there is SO MUCH water falling from the sky every day?? Seriously. Rainy season and water cut-offs cannot logically be allowed to exist in the same Cajabamban universe, so what is the deal here?

Although I have approximately from last Sunday until the end of April (a.k.a. the duration of the rainy season) to figure out this puzzling paradox, I remain unconfident that the mystery will ever be solved. A girl can only hope... collecting water in a bucket just doesn't bring the same deep-down satisfaction as watching said water emerge from the faucet when you try to turn it on.

In other agua-related news, my ability to extract water from our kitchen has recently been severely diminished. Here in Peru, I have to boil all the water that I drink to avoid getting sick - those of you who have witnessed me toting around my blue nalgene bottle at all times will know that I drink a lot of water on a daily basis, so coordinating a sufficient supply of boiled-then-cooled water is a bit of a struggle, even on a good day.

However, the good days are a thing of the past, due to a series of unfortunate events this week. First, our speedy electric water-boiler broke. There was talk of getting it fixed, but so far its bubbling presence is still absent and sorely missed. Second, due to the non-functioning status of the boiler, I learned that our teapot's handle is broken and only attached at one end, so when a certain volunteer tries to pour scalding water out of the teapot and into her cooling bucket, the teapot is apt to abruptly swivel and give liquid burns to whatever lies in its path. Thus far I have managed to outwit the crafty kettle, so its only burn victims have been some unlucky vegetables, but our relationship remains very tense. This clearly-past-its-prime piece of kitchenware is also shedding its interior metal coating in flakes, contaminating my supposedly clean boiled water supply. Excellent. Third, for as long as I've lived here, our kitchen sink has required a wrench to turn on and off. About a month ago I stopped asking myself, "why don't we just buy another sink handle and attach it?", and just accepted the wrench as a normal part of life. But of course, now the sink doesn't even turn on with the help of the wrench - you turn and turn it, and nothing happens. Consequently the kitchen's main water source is now the laundry sink out on the patio - note this gives the teapot five extra yards of potential handle-swiveling distance in which to spill water everywhere.

Despite these hydration station setbacks, I am still surviving. In fact, I am quite content, in the greater scheme of things. I'm sure that eventually we will have a sink that turns on (though probably still with a wrench), that we will continue to talk vaguely of fixing or replacing the water boiler for months, and that I will soon be an expert at wielding the off-kilter tea kettle (since I know it won't be leaving anytime soon). Because that's pretty much what Peace Corps is about: you encounter challenges, you adapt, and you carry on. And you have fun laughing about it along the way :)