A Bucket Shower Thought

After spending all week getting little sleep, spending at least 18 hours on a variety of buses, and knowing that I would do it all again next week I had a hard time getting out of bed this Saturday morning. I rolled over on my thin mat, smelled my nasty pillow as I pulled my knees under me. I said a short prayer, felt myself drifting back to sleep, and then moved into a sitting position in front of my unorganized backpack of clothes. I pulled out my ziplock of shower supplies. I rummaged through my stuff trying to find my box of soap that was not in the ziplock. I tried to be quiet, but gave up the search, I softly said, “Alyssa you mind if I use your soap?” She mumbled, rolled over to a sitting position near her things, and pulled out some soap then rolled back to her sleeping position.

I grabbed my thin Indian towel hanging from the clothes line above my bed and headed out to the shower. I filled up a bucket of water in the toilet area of the bathroom and placed it in the other portion of the bathroom. I looked at my watch—7:05. No time to dabble. I dumped the first cupful of cold water on my head. Cold!

Now, this is nothing new. With the cooler weather has come cold water to bathe in. I haven’t minded much—it’s usually that first cupful that’s the worse. I usually just shiver, suppress a cry, and follow it with the next cupful while trying to rub my hair so that it gets wet all the way through. But today as I was putting the second cupful I visualized my shower at my last apartment. It was nothing special, but it had a spout that forced warm water onto my body and into my hair.

The thought of not having to try and maneuver one hand to pour water while the other hand tries to scrub the copious dirt off my body—well the thought was powerful. I yearned so badly at that moment for my American shower. Nothing could console me except the thought that I will be leaving the village (and its accompanying cold bucket showers) in two weeks, where I spend a short three weeks showering in a slight upgrade in the bathrooms of backpacking hotels. After those five weeks and a 20 (or so) hour journey I will be home taking a warm shower without wearing my sandals!

As I finished up my bucket shower I was surprised at my feelings. I have taken plenty of bucket showers in the last 6 months. Sometimes I think, “I’m glad I don’t have to do this the rest of my life.” But I never really care all that much—it’s just a thought. Today was a full on visualization and accompanying emotions of longing for home.

Basically what I’m saying is it’s been a very busy (and rough) couple of weeks and I’m ready for this research project to be finished so that I can get home and enjoy the holidays with my family! Good thing too since I’ll be home in no time wishing for the simplicity of things like bucket showers.