Summer kicked off three weeks ago, and it's 33 degrees on average. In such sweltering heat, the importance of water makes itself felt immediately. We dive into the swimming pool repeatedly to cool off, the trees, plants, and vegetables need deep watering (especially fragile seedlings), and we need watering too, drinking liters to stay hydrated.
We chose this land for the mountain stream that flows into our irrigation tank (which doubles as our swimming pool), and the river that crosses the foot of the property. In these temperatures, we don’t take water for granted because a few days without it, you’re dead, it’s that simple.
It’s ironic but a few weeks ago, we hired a German plumber to connect the water supply to our boiler inside the house. But once he finished, the water stopped flowing and he went on holiday until August. This forced us to fetch water from the stream, which flows even during the hottest months, and which I’ve come to see as our land’s beating, resilient pulse. If that pulse ever weakens, the life around here will, too.
With this and all the recent fear-mongering media accounts of European heat waves—which are certainly deadly when there’s not enough water to go around—I keep thinking about how we manage, and more frequently mismanage water, our most vital resource. Years ago, I watched a reality TV program in which overindulged, first world families were thrown into the tough reality of surviving in a rural African village for a week. Wanna eat? Go kill and skin your animal. Thirsty? Walk hours with a jug on your head. There was a scene with two teenaged kids splashing each other at the waterhole, laughing and spilling their jugs. What stuck with me was how the tribal women looked on in disgust, holding themselves back from hitting them.
Weeks ago on our quinta, a visitor asked to use the toilet and I pointed her towards the compost toilet, which is a normal thing in off grid places such as ours. She didn’t seem to mind, but a week later, she texted me saying she had been bitten by something (an ant, no…it was a hornet, no, perhaps we had bats?) while sitting on the toilet, which gave her an aggressive rash. She texted again from the emergency room, telling me to warn future guests about using “such a primitive toilet.”
Dennis and I just laughed. Of the planet’s fresh water, only 2-3% is drinkable, shared by 7.5 billion people—of which 2.2 billion don't have access to clean drinking water. So, what’s more primitive: a compost toilet that recycles human waste, eventually using it to fertilize the land, or shitting in your drinking water, as we do in the city?
Most of us don’t think much about water because it’s just there, readily available from the tap. Or we see it as a product or a resource for other activities, such as swimming, showering or washing the car. But indigenous communities pray to water, venerating its emotional and spiritual qualities. Like Hindu devotees dipping into the holy Ganges River, embodied by the goddess Ganga, the Mother of all human beings. Water is seen as representing flow, renewal, purification, moving things along, and interconnection. It is sacred and honored, seen as a crucial, life-giving elixir.
When you live in nature, the presence of water becomes much more obvious as you interact with it: it's in the air’s humidity, damp morning mists, floating clouds, and fat rain drops that plummet to the ground in the fall; it’s there in mighty rivers, serene lakes, and winding streams, in juicy cucumbers and ripe, freshly picked peaches; it’s in my breath as I exhale.
Unfortunately, in Portugal, 40% of the country is already suffering from severe drought—it’s becoming a big issue. In central Portugal, we have widespread eucalyptus monoculture plantations, which cause fire as eucalyptus is highly flammable, propagating itself by fire, but the non-native trees are also thirsty, with deep roots that beat native trees to the water table. The industry is worth €5 billion annually, so no matter how much destruction it causes to biodiversity, animal and plant habitats and the water table, such profits ensure they will continue to plant them.
To stay positive, though, I think we need to keep thinking about water, investing in its infrastructure, making clean water available, and appreciating and valuing the substance that gives and maintains life. We need to start considering its huge presence in our lives, for being the foundation of life on Earth.
Today I say thank you, water! And I cannot say thank you enough, but I’ll keep trying :)
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