A bottle of Poland Spring + a five-minute shower + a flush of the toilet + a washing of the hands + a load of laundry in the sink ≈ 20 gallons of water. Within the past hour, I—a single person with reasonable needs—have used 20 gallons of water, roughly equal to how much half of the student population at Colonial San Juan uses during the length of the school day. To me, this is unfathomable.
Sibaca is more difficult to get to than any other place I’ve ever traveled. Ever. We thumped and thwacked up the side of a mountain for what felt like an hour until we finally arrived at the community’s school.
“¡Hola! ¿Como te llamas?” My Spanish may not be perfecto and my accent is likely atrocious, but after greeting child after child with the expression, “Hello! What’s your name?” I was feeling pretty confident in my ability to communicate the sentiment.
