Most people are aware that tap water in most developing countries is not something you would want to wash down your vodka with. This of course applies here as well. However it appears that by the mandate of heaven, measures are being taken to make the local brew less of a potent potable. In regards to this, there is ongoing construction outside my domicile wherein streets are being closed, holes are being ripped open, and people are standing around with shovels trying to look busy.

Unfortunately for me, I really had no idea that this was what they were up to until I had returned from my weekend escapade in Changyi (昌邑). I didn’t really shower while I was there, so I was looking forward to removing the bus stench from my skin when with the turn of a faucet I realized that the water was out. I went down to management to find out that there was in fact a notice posted outlining the construction and the time the water would be out from. Rats I thought, the flow wouldn’t be coming back online until 10 in the pm and I had plans. So I decided to just rough it one more day, and get the grime removed the day after.

The next day I spent most of the morning doing laundry that I needed to get done as I was planning on going away again soon and wash up a bunch of dishes that had been cultivating new and exciting forms of life. After this I went to have my much sought after shower.

The water was the perfect temperature as I lathered a generous helping of ITOUEN1899 shampoo and WALCH body wash into my hair and skin. I was thinking about cleaning up nice as I had to be in a photo shoot for something later in the day. All of the sudden, as can be predicted in such an all too familiar scenario, the water cut. I had just finished covering myself completely in soap. The water couldn’t have cut off at a more opportune time. It was as if someone with a sick perversion for soap suds and super-fit men had installed a camera in my bathroom and was just waiting to flip the switch. I waited, and waited. The water refused to show itself. After about an hour, the soap had formed a sticky dry paste over my body and I was able to put on clothes to see what the hell was going on. I went down to see if there was a new sign up detailing more outages. Much to my dismay, the notice didn’t exist.

I returned to up to my room to see if by chance the water had turned back on. No dice. So I went to my computer to write this ridiculous story and read a story about a Japanese host and his zany antics in the male host bars. By now, the acidity of the dried up soap that had seeped into my skin was starting to give a burning sensation on my face, which in all likelihood would not bode well for future blemishes. Back to the bathroom, to try once more, I found the shower head sputtering around on the floor like a headless goose. Finally water started to emerge. But to my dismay, this was what it looked like:

Not exactly tempting.

There were moments where I was close to grabbing the water cooler bottle from the machine and somehow figuring away to turn that into a makeshift shower, just so that I could get the crap off my face. I guess a little clean water is just too damn much to ask for.

After about 20 minutes, and me drawing up schematics to tube water from my water cooler into the shower using straws and duct tape the water came blasting back to life. I got in there faster than an obese person rolling down a hill and cleaned off the rotten suds as fast as I’ve ever done to try and avoid another blue-out.

So for those keeping track, I now have had water in my apartment when I definitely don’t want it, and haven’t been able to get water when I needed it most. This is in a building and neighborhood that was built 7 years ago. I’m scared to think of what goes on in the old commie blocks that were built 50 years ago. I would imagine it being like living in one of those air chambers the lottery number balls are drawn from. Instead of having the numbers, every result would be some kind of weird problem with the room, like water, electricity, rodents, and stray wrecking balls. Good thing I don’t gamble.

Filed under: dragons