Water, Water Everywhere... Or is it?
City folks are very fortunate in that they can turn on a tap and from the opening spews clean water. Well, mostly clean if you ignore the odd rat-tailed maggot and the HTH taste. In the rambling rural areas water supply to your abode is basically your own problem because there are no municipal pipes here.
Since moving down here three and a bit years ago it has dawned on me that the local Xhosa water god really hates my guts.
The first dwelling Flyboy and I occupied was an old worker’s cottage which had been converted into a weekend getaway cottage – if you are into the weekend from hell I can recommend it. For the first ten days of occupation we had to endure water that evoked childhood memories. Do you remember that kid in the class who brought a stink bomb to school and it broke in the classroom? Or how about the other kid whose mother didn’t want her to make friends and always made her egg mayonnaise sandwiches (that was me by the way)? That charming smell was exactly how the water smelt. In fact it was so bad that you had to wear a gas mask to hang up the washing because obviously the clothes were drenched in this foul smelling water. Oh, after taking a shower you had to keep your distance from anyone in the nearby vicinity for about ten minutes, just out of respect for their olfactory organ because man, you stank!
In order to combat this assault on the nasal passages I went to extremes. I bought Vinolia soap. The result was equivalent to spraying toilet spray after a hefty bowel release session and the two odours combining to create a nauseating aroma. Flyboy also got a few strange glances at work because he smelt decidedly feminine.
We later discovered that the reason for this smelly water was that the water level in the dam was fairly low and the pipe was drawing water from the bottom of the dam. The stench was a result of the decaying plant matter lying at the bottom. Or at least I hoped it was only decaying plant matter as I tried to block the image of myself with a gory frog leg stuck to my forehead after a shower.
The water god had fun with me too. About once a week, on any given day, I would be in the shower, covered from head to toe in soap, conditioner dripping into my eyes and presto, the water would disappear! I kid you not, it never once happened when Flyboy was in the shower! We never could figure out what happened to the water but we suspect it had something to do with cows, drinking troughs and ball valves. I prefer my “portal to another dimension” theory though, it is more interesting.
We have since moved from our humble beginnings and now live in what resembles a house – that is another story all together. However one legacy that has moved with us is the wacky water. For starters Flyboy’s Strange Employers had a borehole drilled for the house but never bothered to buy a borehole pump. Luckily Flyboy is a man with a plan and he managed to rig up a system using pressure pumps, lots of pipe and a healthy dose of cursing. The only problem is now you need a degree in mechanical engineering to figure out what exactly gets opened and closed at which specific point.
The reason for this long-winded watery saga? Well, the Xhosa water god struck again last night as he has on odd occasions just to remind me he is still there. There was little ol’ me, all soaped up and nowhere to go in the shower when presto, the water vanished (at 23h00).For a change I actually laughed because you know, these local deities are more powerful than you are.
At least the water doesn’t smell anymore.
Since moving down here three and a bit years ago it has dawned on me that the local Xhosa water god really hates my guts.
The first dwelling Flyboy and I occupied was an old worker’s cottage which had been converted into a weekend getaway cottage – if you are into the weekend from hell I can recommend it. For the first ten days of occupation we had to endure water that evoked childhood memories. Do you remember that kid in the class who brought a stink bomb to school and it broke in the classroom? Or how about the other kid whose mother didn’t want her to make friends and always made her egg mayonnaise sandwiches (that was me by the way)? That charming smell was exactly how the water smelt. In fact it was so bad that you had to wear a gas mask to hang up the washing because obviously the clothes were drenched in this foul smelling water. Oh, after taking a shower you had to keep your distance from anyone in the nearby vicinity for about ten minutes, just out of respect for their olfactory organ because man, you stank!
In order to combat this assault on the nasal passages I went to extremes. I bought Vinolia soap. The result was equivalent to spraying toilet spray after a hefty bowel release session and the two odours combining to create a nauseating aroma. Flyboy also got a few strange glances at work because he smelt decidedly feminine.
We later discovered that the reason for this smelly water was that the water level in the dam was fairly low and the pipe was drawing water from the bottom of the dam. The stench was a result of the decaying plant matter lying at the bottom. Or at least I hoped it was only decaying plant matter as I tried to block the image of myself with a gory frog leg stuck to my forehead after a shower.
The water god had fun with me too. About once a week, on any given day, I would be in the shower, covered from head to toe in soap, conditioner dripping into my eyes and presto, the water would disappear! I kid you not, it never once happened when Flyboy was in the shower! We never could figure out what happened to the water but we suspect it had something to do with cows, drinking troughs and ball valves. I prefer my “portal to another dimension” theory though, it is more interesting.
We have since moved from our humble beginnings and now live in what resembles a house – that is another story all together. However one legacy that has moved with us is the wacky water. For starters Flyboy’s Strange Employers had a borehole drilled for the house but never bothered to buy a borehole pump. Luckily Flyboy is a man with a plan and he managed to rig up a system using pressure pumps, lots of pipe and a healthy dose of cursing. The only problem is now you need a degree in mechanical engineering to figure out what exactly gets opened and closed at which specific point.
The reason for this long-winded watery saga? Well, the Xhosa water god struck again last night as he has on odd occasions just to remind me he is still there. There was little ol’ me, all soaped up and nowhere to go in the shower when presto, the water vanished (at 23h00).For a change I actually laughed because you know, these local deities are more powerful than you are.
At least the water doesn’t smell anymore.
posted by Katt at 8:34 am
7 Comments:
I'm trying to remember which circle of Hell had the lake of sulphur.
Gory frog leg stuck to your
forehead..... Katt, get outta
here!!
I still have to concentrate
on domestic chores, I like
the sound of the little
love nest though, could it
be the little house on the
Prairie??
What I want to know is... are you still soapy? *grin*
Kyk: Only you would make the connection to Danté! :-) Luckily I have since moved to a different circle, the question is was it up or down?
P & E: Little House on the Prairie or Little Prayer on the Housie?
SwissTwist: LOL I knew someone was going to ask that question. We managed to coax a cold drizzle out the shower head but my hair still feels like chewing gum!
Little prayer on the housie? That is the funniest thing I've read today (apart from the 'scope of work' portion of a tender invitation on my desk). It puts me in mind of the "There's a bright golden maize on my head-o" version of Oh, what a beautiful mornin'.
The Xhosa water god should lay off on whatever nectar he's been sipping.
We have had a few incidences with contaminated water in Gauteng. You think he moonlights for the Rand Water Board?
Kyk: The voices in my head want to invite the voices in your head over for a party!
Chitty: We had a rat-tailed maggot incident here recently - the difference is ours made frontpage headlines because hey, not much happens around here. As for Xhosa water god, I am sure he is moonlighting for Rand Water and earning a bloated salary.
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