It’s easy to take water for granted when it’s always there at the turn of the tap. But what if that wasn’t the case?
My long-awaited vacation had begun. I arrived in Panama and spent two days in the capital before making the five-hour drive to my beautiful hometown of Nancito, located in Chiriquí, a province in the west of Panama.
After greetings and hugs, it was time to wash hands and enjoy a refreshing bath. But I turned on the tap and nothing. That’s where this story begins.
Nancito is a town of 600 inhabitants, more or less spread out over a territory of 36 square kilometers and located three kilometers from the Pan-American Highway.
In my childhood I remember the small town surrounded by beautiful streams, where many of our generation learned to swim in crystalline waters. Today, these streams are a distant memory. Most have dried up, perhaps due to deforestation and other factors, or possibly due to the location of the town itself, which was founded on top of a mountain, where the heads of all those streams were located.
The town’s water supply is extracted by a centrifugal pump and pumped to a tank located at the highest part of the town. From there, taking advantage of gravity, it’s released and sent to the houses in town. But not all of them get water.
And that’s why water distribution is divided: one day to Nancito arriba, the next day Nancito abajo, and so on.
The day I arrived, it was not Nancito arriba’s turn, and the only water we had in the house was the water stored from the previous day.
There were 16 people in my mother’s house for the festivities, and we had to make sure there was enough water for everyone. That meant conserving every drop of water in the 250-gallon reserve tank. (I knew my refreshing bath would be very short.)
On the days water arrived, we had to get up very early to fill the storage tank and any other available containers. Then we’d take turns using the washing machine, bathing, brushing teeth, washing hands, etc.
The reality of doing all those tasks while knowing that literally every drop of water counts was extremely stressful. I’ve lived in San Antonio for 24 years. And I can count the number of times I have turned on the tap and not found that precious liquid that is a blessing we all enjoy here.
We must take care of it. Every day. Not just for ourselves, but for future generations.
