Archive for water
Poll Results
Posted by: | CommentsUntil I can figure out how to enable the ‘archive’ function on the poll, you’ll have to live with this:
Be sure to check out the new poll.
Agua Pura
Posted by: | CommentsOne of the first thing visitors to Guatemala, and much of Central America and Mexico, are likely to read about is the hazard of drinking local water. To put it bluntly, drinking anything other than purified water from a reliable source is a serious ‘no-no’. In fact, polluted water is the primary cause of diarrhea, a leading cause of death in Guatemala and many other poor countries.
Of course, most expats and many locals buy bottled water in the form of 5 gallon jugs, known locally as ‘garifones’. You can buy them in la bodegona or the mercado (or
at major retailers in the city), and they are delivered by the firms themselves. We have water delivered twice a week at a cost of 10 quetzales (about $1.20) each. We’ve had no epidemics drinking this water, although yours truly has had more than one bout of Ciproflaxin in the last year, probably a reflection of my street eating habits more than the water at home.
Anyway, every now and then the water delivery guys don’t show for a few days, and our potable water source is dangerously low. Sure, you can boil water, but at this altitude it takes a very long time and results in odd-tasting water that is still not definitively pure. Plus, if there were ever a real breakdown in the supply line, we might need a longer-term, independent solution, so I began looking around for alternatives.
There are several options for walter filters, including the local company EcoFiltro, and the globally-known Berkey filter. However, each has a limited life span and is dependent on exotic or manufactured components that might fail or otherwise be difficult to replace, especially in an emergency. That’s why I was so excited when I heard about the BioSand filter, made from natural components and the central focus of a local NGO, Servants for Him.
Here’s how the filter works:
Water is poured into the top of the filter as needed, where a diffuser plate placed above the sand bed dissipates the initial force of the water. Traveling slowly through the sand bed, the water then passes through a bed of prepared sand media and collects in a pipe at the base of the filter. At this point, the water is propelled through plastic piping encased in the concrete exterior and out of the filter for the user to collect.
Each time water is poured into the filter, the filter ‘learns’ about the pathogens in the water and is able to better identify and trap them. When Forrest, from Servants for Him, brought mine over and installed it, he told us it would take a few weeks of daily use for the filter to ‘learn’ enough about our water source, and then offered a much more technical explanation:
When water is poured into the top of the filter, the organic material it is carrying is trapped at the surface of the fine sand, forming a biological layer or “schmutzdecke.” This biological layer matures over one to three weeks, depending on volume of water put through the filter and the amount of nutrients and micro-organisms in the water.
Of course, the only thing that really matters is how effective the filter is. According to a World Health Organization study in Haiti, the filter is 98.5% effective in removing E. Coli (a nasty bug I’ve had intimate experience with). Some data supplied by Servants for Him:
- More than 96% of fecal coliforms
- 100% of protozoa and helminthes
- 50-90% of organic and inorganic toxicants
- Greater that 75% of iron and manganese
- Suspended sediments, in all or part
One of the reasons I love this filter is it has a very long life, a decade or more. It’s simple to operate and difficult to break. Some of the other more modern options have a lifespan of a year or less, or have components that could easily be rendered ineffective by the small children in my house. This concrete filter filled with sand and gravel is heavy and doesn’t attract attention, except the occasional crayon. And, unlike some of the more ‘advanced’ filters, this stuff can deal with really nasty water, so if there were ever a long-term disruption, say perhaps following a severe earthquake, a devastating Hurricane, or some sort of epidemic that disrupted or polluted normal water supplies, I could pour almost anything into this filter and, once it has adapted to the source, I’d have drinkable water. Forrest does recommend that a few drops of bleach might help finish off any of the lingering 1.5% that makes it through.
I haven’t tested it yet but will be comparing it with the water I get from the neighborhood well (many of the gated communities here have their own wells), with city water and the bottled water that is delivered to my house. Stay tuned!
P.S. I know some of you engineer types will want more information so I’m going to include some pictures from the setup process.
Where Can I Get Water Tested?
Posted by: | CommentsHere in La Casa de Don Marco, we’ve been testing out various water filter systems, as part of my due diligence on various business models and/or non-profit activities. Everything is working well and now I’m ready for a water test challenge, but I need a lab that can test the water not simply for the presence of bad stuff, but can measure parts per million as well.
I suspect I’ll need to go to the capital for this, and if anyone can point me in the right direction, I’d appreciate it.
Mark
The Water Supply in Guate
Posted by: | CommentsIn our first home in Guate, we were the beneficiaries of a cistern managed by the neighborhood management. That meant that with one exception, we never had any water service interruptions.
If you live in real Guate, you can experience frequent outages. Expat Mom detailed some experiences in an old post here.
Genesis has adapted well, and now has her own rooftop cistern. You really have to have this stuff because people here just don’t think anything about cutting your access to water. Of course, like with everything else in Guate it’s not as simple as you might think:
That, my dear readers, is a water tank, sitting on top of the bathroom, which automatically kicks in when the town water goes out. Since that has been happening on a daily basis for about a month thanks to all the roadwork being done in town (they smash pipes on an hourly basis, it seems), a tank was a good investment.
Now we have running water when no one else does and though it’s gravity fed, there’s enough pressure to shower, wash dishes and clothes, as well as flush the toilet (woohoo!). We no longer have to send our maid home early on a daily basis because she can’t wash anything.
Unfortunately, since the tank is on the roof, it’s visible to everyone, including my mother-in-law who is so jealous that she has been turning our water off on purpose. I’m really not sure what that’s supposed to accomplish, apart from us getting our own water lines put in, considering that we currently pay the water for both houses . . . . I wouldn’t be pissing off the people who pay my utility, but I guess she isn’t thinking about that.
The Expat Transformation
Posted by: | CommentsGuest Post
When I first arrived in Guatemala, I was pretty fresh from Canada, though I’d come through Mexico by bus. I had the typical attitudes that most foreigners have and never imagined how much things would change in 7 years. To give you a glimpse, here are a few before and afters . . .
Before: I nearly had a heart attack when coming around a corner and bumping into an armed guard.
Now: I find it odd if a store doesn’t have a guard and shotguns don’t phase me at all.
Before: I couldn’t IMAGINE driving in Guatemalan traffic.
Now: My husband and I are seriously looking at buying a car . . . which I would drive . . . and the thought doesn’t phase me a bit.
Before: If you’d told me I could survive more than two days without a shower, much less water, I’d have laughed in your face.
Now: I’ve successfully survived up to 15 days without running water.
Before: I felt sorry for the children begging in restaurants and bars.
Now: I’ve seen those same kids in their private school uniforms on the bus.
Before: I’d never spent a night in a hospital.
Now: I’ve spent several days and nights in the public hospital here.
Before: I paid whatever they told me in the market because I felt embarrassed to try and knock the price down.
Now: I never accept the first price given and I’m pretty good at negotiating for my potatoes and tomatoes.
Before: My Spanish teacher told me I was too stupid to learn the language in 3 weeks of lessons. I could still barely count in Spanish.
Now: I’m fluent. Unless you ask my mother-in-law, who will promptly tell you I speak no Spanish at all.
Before: I was going places, no interest in ever settling down with a guy, and thought only about kids in the distant future.
Now: Here I am, with a house! And a guy! And TWO kids.
And you know what? It’s not so bad at all.
Yup, things sure do change!
Genesis is a freelance writer and lives with her husband and two sons just outside of Antigua. She blogs at Expat Mom.
A Tale of Two Water Spouts
Posted by: | CommentsThis friend of mine in the US has this funny way of dealing with statements which simply defy belief; when an absurd comment is made, he gets wide-eyed and blinks rapidly. I don’t think it’s conscious, it’s just how he handles the logic-defying assertion. Of course, he’s an ambulance chaser, so maybe it’s a more common experience for him than I think.
Anyway, I caught myself in just this situation the other day, staring at something which left me completely dumbfounded, able only to blink rapidly and stare, waiting for the next shoe to drop.
Here’s what happened: the Wife and Daughter #1 were taking a nap as is their desire on weekends (and any weekday they can, for that matter), and so I was left to fend for myself with the children and Maid #4. Now, Maid #4 is pretty reliable in that she doesn’t stand around looking for things to do, she just does stuff. By the time she makes it to the front door at the beginning of her shift, she’s already picked up a trail of little boy underwear, two cats tied together with shoelaces, a plate of food and assorted shoes and toys.
So she’s working along in the laundry area and has just moved a load from the washer to the dryer (which readers will remember is actually outside, on the porch). When she returns to the laundry room, I hear her grunting and straining. I discreetly peer into the room and see that she is hard at work unscrewing the hose which is connected to a Y adapter I installed on the faucet above the pilar.
You see, despite being in one of the fanciest neighborhoods around (the cousin of the brother of the former President lives here, or so I’m told), this house was not equipped for a washing machine. At least, not as someone from the US might expect. So anyway, I had to buy a ‘Y’ adapter for the faucet, to which is attached the cold water hose for the washer, leaving the second part of the ‘Y’ for the maids to fill the pilar with about 30 gallons of water. (There is no easy way to get hot water into the washing machine).
Maid #4 had unscrewed the hose to the washer and was filling the pilar. She left for another part of the house while the pilar was filling (to what end I’m not sure). I watched and waited, glad that the pilar designers had foreseen the need to design little spillways which allow the center portion of the pilar to overflow into the side compartments when full.
When she was finished, I observed her trying to put the hose back on the Y adapter. The hose is old and the connector is a little misshapen, so it’s tough anyway, but of course everything was wet and so she just left it about half way on. I understand someone got quite a surprise when they unwittingly started up the washer and reached back to turn the water on.
I tried to conceive of a reason the maid would unhook the hose rather than turn the little black arrow device which permits water to leave the ‘Y’ adapter on the other side, but couldn’t think of one. I’m going to try to watch her tomorrow and see if she does it again. Am I missing something?
Water, Water Everwhere at AntiguaDailyPhoto
Posted by: | CommentsApparently Rudy is back from vacation and blogging again, or at least he’s worried about Laura taking his job, because there have been some great posts (here, here and here) on the water situation in Antigua. By great I mean, not just the Click, Click, Click kind of posts, but actual content!
For example, Rudy answers the following questions that you’ve probably been wondering about ever since you first read a guidebook on Guatemala:
- How much does it cost to dig a well, an average of course?
- What are some of depths of wells around Guatemala?
- What kind of water tables and underground beds does Guatemala have?
- What kind of treatments are necessary to make water potable?
- Is water from a well potable?
Stop over at Antigua Daily Photo and if you like what you see, leave a comment. Only, please be extra nice, b/c they don’t enjoy the hatemail as much as we do here at GuateLiving.
Cost of Living: Water
Posted by: | CommentsWhen we first rented our house, the real estate agent told us, “You are very fortunate, because the landlord is even going to pay for the water themselves. You only have to pay for the electricity.” I get a good chuckle out of that now that I know water is free and electricity is expensive.
Rudy has a good post explaining how water works here in Guatemala (although doesn’t discuss why it is harmful to your health). Here’s an excerpt:
Water belongs to the Guatemalan people and it’s managed by the government; national and local government. In theory, Guatemalans don’t pay for the water itself, but for the distribution system; that is the electricity to pump it and the distribution pipes. The water bill can vary a lot from zone to zone for the same amount of distributed water.




















