There are many things that make living in a third world country difficult. Dirty air, dirty water, dirty dirt.
I'm talking about the weary, 'I can't heat up another kettle of water to pour into the big yellow bucket to take a bucket bath but my bones ache at the prospect of another lukewarm bucket bath on a cold winter day,' tired. But this blog post (No Impact Man), reminded me of the sweetness of third world living.
Of being in the dark in a warm room, playing cards by the candle light, laughing and listening to the stories that make up Afghan lives. Of finding Nutella (NUTELLA, I LOVE YOU NUTELLA!) in Shar-e-nau and enjoying each nutty chocolatey spread on the still-hot Afghan bread every morning. And oh, my favorite, that first hot shower in a warm bathroom after months and months of tepid bucket baths.
It's the relishing that makes it special. The delicate awe of treasuring each hot droplet of water. Of being ushered out of the third-floor bathroom and onto the balcony, dressed in clean pajamas, wrapped up in towels, swathed in blankets and feeling the crisp clean air meeting my scrubbed clean face.
It's a wonder that makes my heart constrict now, the beauty, the stillness of enjoying water, enjoying the clean air and knowing right then that it was a blessing.