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Since Sunday we have had no running water. The pump that serves our pueblo had broken down, and the needed part was not available in Pátzcuaro. Tuesday was a holiday, El Día del Trabajo—Labor Day, so, ironically no one came to fix the pump. However, tonight I lay in bed, dreaming of rains, and when I awoke, Susan asked me if I'd heard the tinaco filling up (the water storage tank on our roof). It was not a dream. The rains had not yet come, but the deep well that serves our pueblo of Las Cuevas was receiving water. Water is more important than holidays. In a month or so, the rains will begin, ¡ojalá! We will revel in the afternoon downpours and the nightime drizzling rains.
I went outside, at 1:50 a.m. and turned on the water heater. I, materialistic gringo, will soon luxuriate in a deep bath of hot water.
REPRISE: repeat above scenario, almost exactly one year later. Same resolution. Must be an annual ritual.
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