Breathe
By Edmée Pardo
There is no water in my house. The authorities announced on October 17 that they were going to reduce the supply in my delegation due to the crisis affecting the Cutzamala system: the most serious drought in its history. If we add to that the repair of a well in Chapultepec that diverts water to my neighborhood and the scarcity of liquid from the adjacent neighborhood, the water from the street does not come in and when it does it has a very reduced flow. At night, the cistern cannot be filled and water cannot be pumped to the water tanks, which is why the inhabitants of my building wake up at dawn, at dusk or at night with the surprise that no water comes out of the faucet.
I set aside water in pots and buckets. I pee-pee on pee-pee until it's worth it to empty the pan. It affects me as it does anyone who has an organized, "flowing" life, and suddenly must organize bathing, laundry, and meals at certain times. Much less than those who have sick people, babies, or Acapulco victims in their homes. But it affects me to the twenty-fourth power if you take into account that I am the building manager and the messages on an accelerated nuisance scale arrive all the time.
To begin with, we bought a forty thousand liter pipe to deal with the shortage. But there is not enough money for these emergencies that will become a daily occurrence: the reality is that there will be less and less water.
In order to act proactively and not reactively, we (the monitoring committee and I) decided to ration the supply, to be attentive to the time and power of the arrival of water and to the readers in each department. But how do you read the water?
The water meter is a circular device with a lid that is faced by a dial with numbers and circles of two sizes that supposedly give all the information required. If you know how to read it. I take a picture, go to the internet, make two or three sense connections. I identify. The first marker turns when water is consumed, but if it moves when all the faucets are closed it indicates a leak. The large hand with each turn indicates one liter, the small hand with each turn indicates ten liters, and the movement of both makes the numbers advance. This numeral indicates the total consumption, which is registered in cubic meters. Since I learned in elementary school that the liter is used to measure liquids, I have to make the translation. One cubic meter equals one thousand liters. I can't even visualize a thousand cartons of milk or bottles of water in one place. I can't even visualize a thousand cartons of milk or bottles of water in one place. We have to record consumption by department, I say in a commanding voice to the janitor as if I know what I am talking about and what I will do with that information. Then I peek at the water meter on the street. I understand the spinning dial, I understand the number, but what about all the other indicators on the dial like minutes, what are they? It's the water pressure, the janitor explains. Aha. Over the course of a week I hope to have elements of how, when and how much water we spend and receive to understand what is happening. And then, the janitor asks me. I keep quiet. I think about a rainwater collector, now that the rainy season is over, of course; about buying another water tank, about an extraordinary fee... I hear noises, the pipe wakes up. It is eight o'clock at night and the faucet has been opened. I run to take a shower.
The opinions expressed are the responsibility of the authors and are absolutely independent of the position and editorial line of the company. Opinion 51.
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