NATURAL RESOURCES | BORINQUEN

3 Days Without Water

Welcome to my life in this Caribbean colonia

Photo by Luis Tosta on Unsplash

Mní wičhóni (pronounced m’NEE wee-choh-nee) ~ Lakota saying and foundational anthem during the Standing Rock protests against the Dakota Access Pipeline

Water is life.

Last week, I spent three days without water — not even a trickle from my kitchen tap. Same in the bathroom.

Frustration immediately making its way to my lips, I shouted “puñeta, here we go again!”

This is what life in Borinquen Bella is like for hundreds of thousands of working-class folks like me. And it’s why I generally keep between four and six gallon-sized water bottles filled in my yoga/storage room.

So, I sparingly used some of what I had to:

🚰 water my plants 🚰 brush my teeth / wash my face 🚰 take a bath 🚰 wash dishes 🚰 flush the toilet

Many of you might be asking: “But, Lola, how did this happen?”

According to the media, it’s because our infrastructure is failing and has been for decades. My thing is, the corrupt Puerto Rican government is largely to blame.

Because I’m sure the governor got water. I’m sure all those high-paid clowns in her administration — the ones who live in gated communities — have all kinds of water flowing from their faucets.

I don’t see any news reports showing them on long lines for water!

After those initial three days, we once again had water here in Loíza (at least in the pueblo centro, where I live) — for one day. Then it was gone.

This past Saturday, I woke up to the same nightmare scenario. No running water. Fortunately, I had six bottles of tap water.

Today is day two, I have only one gallon left (note: this is separate from the gallons of purified water I buy for drinking).

Earlier today, I walked around my neighborhood for 29 minutes under the scorching sol caribeño, hoping to find the camiones de agua. By the time I did find one, the driver was too far for me to flag them down.

An elderly neighbor told me he was wondering where I went because he saw the truck and remembered I had asked him a few minutes earlier.

Such is life in the jewel of Borinquen Bella. Much as I love my ancestral motherland, the truth is that life here is a huge struggle.

Still, you couldn’t pay me enough money to move back to gringolandia!

Indigenous Peoples have always known the value of agua.

I opened this post with the Lakota saying, Mní wičhóni — “Water is Life” — as a reminder that sin agua no se puede vivir. The government here is aware of this. More importantly, as Indigenous Taino and African-descended people, we know this.

Unfortunately, the greed of capitalism knows no limits — so while the government continues robbing el pueblo puertorriqueño, the rest of us continue to suffer.

One of the most important lessons I’ve learned in my 1,671 days living on this sacred soil is solo el pueblo salva al pueblo — not the government!

Never will the ricachones do much for the people.

And since only the people can save the people, I’ll continue to connect with my beautiful communidades here. I’ll continue to luchar as my warrior ancestras taught me to.

I will continue to be mindful of my use of that most precious natural resource. I am so grateful to have life — and even with the struggle, that I am on Borinquen Bella.

Jajom for reading.

[embed]Lola Rosario Aponte (aka, La Revolution) - Medium Read writing from Lola Rosario Aponte (aka, La Revolution) on Medium. Journalist. Poet. Polyglot. I write about…medium.com

In gratitude to my guerrera Indigenous Taina & African ancestras for their guidance. Eternally grateful to Borinquen Bella for nurturing my fortitude.