Yeeeeeeee!

Our water is back!!!! Through a very sketchy looking temporary patch, which (fingers crossed) will last us until the permanent fix is in place (a new water pipe along the new Gamboa bridge).

The ACP installed temporary floating pipes around the break point on the bridge. Amazing that all the water of Gamboa - at high pressure - goes through these narrow tubes and around these right angles.

But however it's working, we're so happy to have it again......!

Perspective

Simon and I were walking Coco and passed this rubble at the end of our street. I'd become so accustomed to it that I had stopped noticing it. It was a patchy quick fix from our last water leak a few months ago. Simon and I started talking about it and I  said, 'Wow, there really are a lot of problems, aren't there?' thinking about all the many accumulating piles of loose ends, not to mention all the political craziness and the declining state of our country...

 

To which Simon replied, 'No Mom, we only have two problems. The pandemic and the water.' Which on an immediate level of course is very true. 

Happy GWEN!

Amidst all this craziness, we all stopped for a day to celebrate GWEN! Our now 12 year old! It was a super relaxing birthday.... Gwen woke to a present on the end of her bed, and throughout the day dived slowly into her basket of presents. She had a few desires. By request, we all ate vegan with her for the day. By request, we all watched Cowspiracy in the evening, a (slightly biased...) documentary on how (truly) important it is to cut back on animal agriculture. We ate lots of yummy vegan meals, Simon designed her a birthday vegan video game in Scratch, and lots of vegan food presents were received.

We love you our sweet amazing original incredible GWEN!!!

Saharan Dust

As if things didn't seem apocalyptic enough, Saharan dust has started blowing in. Across the entire Atlantic, through the Caribbean. Reaching us all the way in Panama. As locked as we've been in one place for so long, it's kind of amazing to think we're actually breathing in the African desert. We can't go to beautiful new places, but they are coming to us.

Aside from the sky looking an ominously hazy orangish red (so hard to capture in a picture), it's a little worrisome for two reasons. Breathing all that dust in is hard on the lungs, bad at any time but in particular when there is a respiratory pandemic. And maybe more immediately for us - this dust seems to come with a decrease in rainfall. Which now - without running water - makes our daily challenge of obtaining water even harder.

Sweet Rain

So much easier than dragging buckets up the street is collecting rainwater right at our house. We're so grateful now for every single rain shower.

The rain is also great for actual showers.

Water

WATER. The new theme of our quarantine. How to get it, how to move it, how to efficiently use it... Suddenly we're distinctly aware of living on stilts. Of all the many stairs that needed to be climbed just to reach the kitchen, the bathrooms... Those buckets seem to get heavier with each step.

Our water company IDAAN has organized daily visits by large cistern trucks, bringing fresh water from from Chilibre.

Where it is flat they can go door to door. But in our neighborhood the hills are too steep. So we all come to them. Some with kids' wagons. Some on foot. Some in pickup trucks. Each backing up to the cistern in its turn. David did three loads yesterday, carrying water for all our neighbors who didn't have transportation.

People filling every conceivable container they have.

Gwen and David on a water run. I had just given them the thumbs up, asking how it was, not so bad, right? These are their answers.

Bridge collision!

The challenges seem to keep ratcheting up. I had just said goodbye to my French intern Louise, who - even with borders closed - managed to get on a humanitarian flight home to Paris. Gregg and I were talking in the 183 parking lot in Gamboa and heard a loud rumbling sound - like an explosion or thunder. Yackse came out a few minutes later, with these pictures, already circulating on whatsapp. What we had heard was a tanker had colliding with the Gamboa bridge.

Completely taking out the railway line at that point. And with it, Gamboa's water supply.

There was quite a lot of anger in Gamboa initially, because ACP, the Autoridad del Canal de Panamá, tweeted that the railroad was disrupted but that the residents of Gamboa were unaffected. However, having an entire town without running water for the indefinite future seems like a pretty large effect. Lots of community chat about ACP not wanting to accept responsibility for this accident, because that would mean taking on the costs of the repair work. Thankfully we received a new message from ACP a little later. They acknowledged the effect of the boat collision on the residents of Gamboa, they said could not give an estimate on when we'll have water again, but they will work on it. I'm doubtful it will be quick. Three days later I finally saw three workers approach the damaged bridge with surveying equipment. Otherwise the area seems to be completely quiet....45 days seems to be the estimate right now.

 

A video showing the boat backing up and moving away. It's now parked just across the Canal from us, out of the way of boat traffic, likely awaiting repairs.

And a video from above.

Our beautiful old Gamboa bridge! With a big hole in the middle...

And our Gamboa water supply :(

Tea

David's precious final tea bags. Reused again and again.

One Second Everyday - May 2020

The month flew by. It's so strange how time is passing now. It seems to race by yet stand still - at the same time.

I dedicate this month's one second to John Prine, who died April 7 of COVID-19. And who touched us so much with his humbleness, his authenticity, his clarity, his empathy. Iris DeMent put it so well in his tribute this month:

Here’s why he rests on my heart’s mountain top: Because he cared enough to look — at me, you, all of us — until he saw what was noble, and then he wrapped us up in melodies and sung us back to ourselves. That was the miracle of John Prine.