PICTURE THIS

7:05 am on a Friday. Just returned from a run and am ready to jump in the shower. This morning is like many others in the past: no water, at least no running water. To be honest, showering using a bucket doesnt even cause me to flinch anymore, all part of the daily routine. So I cant go outside to the pila to full up the bucket from the pila because the monster German Shepard, aka our ´guard dog´, will literally rip my face off. So I ask my host sister to fill up my bucket for me. When I go into the bathroom to commence my lovely bath from a bucket, I realize two things: A) the electricity is out ... awesome ... and 2) my host sister conveniently forgot to give me another smaller bucket to use to pour the water from the bucket onto my head-body. This two-bucket system usually works fairly well. Id say on average I have about a 72 % success rate, which is to say that 72% of the water taken out of the bucket splashes some part of my body. Now, however, without this smaller bucket Im stuck in a bit of a pickle knowning that an attempt to use my hands cupped together as a quasi-replacement for my trusty mini bucket would plummet my water-to-body success rate to single digits, I frantically search for an alternative, as its now 7:10 and Im supposed to be at work in 20 mins (the walk takes 15). My Nalgene is filled with Crystal Lite Lemonade, so thats out. The plastic toothbrush container is fulled with mold and therefore also not an option-- yes, soaking that bad body in boiling water IS on my to-do list. The only other hard-shelled plastic container I can find is my soap dish. Not ideal but beggars cant be choosers. So I jump into the shower, in the dark, and rush to wash the sweat and mud off. However, because the soap dish only holds about 4 fluid ounces of water at a time AND I cant see a god damn thing, my water-to-body success rate is prob 20, 25% at best. I really wouldnt have bothered with this whole process in the first place had I not been pouring sweat (I have to run in long pants and long sleeves to thwart off the cat calls). When I go to put the shampoo in my hair, I notice that half of my head isnt even wet, which makes slathering it with shampoo really unfortunate. But I solidier on. I find that as I frantically rush to get the water onto my head in a (failed) attempt to remove the shampoo, Im actually sweating, which, quite clearly, completely defeats the purpose of this song-and-dance with the soap dish. When I try to lift the big bucket up over my head my arms quaver and I nearly fall over in the 4 ft. sq. space because, once again, I cant barely see my hand in front of my face. So after about two more mins of this charade I give up with the soap dish and start dunking my head in the big bucket, only I dont quite get the distance right the first time and slam the side of my head into said bucket, hence the lump on the side of my head that looks like a goyter. Of course, I stub my toe on my way out of the shower, and once i finally get into my room where, thankfully, theres sunlight, I realize that I´m pretty much covered in a soapy shampoo film. And its now 7:30 am. So as I´m sprinting (and sweating like a pig, I might add) I silently curse myself for not taking more advantage of my well-lite bathrom with a consistent source of high powered water pressure and electricity.