Thursday, March 16, 2006

Shit's Creek has Run Dry

It must be fate. I mean, I've been writing disparagingly about the perils of the old-fashioned chemical toilets in the Arctic as recently as yesterday, but I'd give my last Loony for one right now.

I'm in a "hotel" in Quaqtaq, a smallish Inuit community on the northwest tip of Ungava Bay in Northern Quebec. There are six of us here, and there's no fucking water. Can't flush the toilet, take a shower, and, most grievously, cannot make a pot of coffee so I'm composing this post sans caffeine.

I thought it was because the town neglected to deliver water (no underground pipes due to permafrost so water gets trucked in to every residence and the sewage gets pumped out, hopefully not by the same vehicle).

But, horror of horrors, we've got plenty of water, it's the fucking water pump that has fried itself. So instead of waiting until 9:00 AM and flag down a water truck, we have to keep our legs and sphincters crossed until the afternoon.

I want to go home!!!!


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