Hot showers


Have you ever considered -- I mean really considered -- where the hot water for your shower comes from? Have you opened the little closet and gazed lovingly upon your water heater? Thanked her for her years of service? Honored her for her quotidian commitment to your comfort? Most of us only give our hot water heater a minute of our attention on the rare occasion that she fails us, and then amidst curse words and unplanned expenditures, we replace her, only to shove her replacement back into the closet not to be thought of again for the next decade.

Well, I say, in my name and at my request, go find your hot water heater and give her some credit. She has an important job, and she's pretty good at it. A nice hot shower is not something to take for granted.

Here in rural Ecuador -- as in so many parts of the world -- hot water is a luxury most people do not have access to. Luckily, running water and flushing toilets are both fairly standard in these parts, though some houses do still have unattached latrines/bathrooms and outside water spigots as their sole water supply. On a separate but related note, they have great gritty dish soap that cuts through grease like a champ and obviates the need for hot water for dish washing.

With regards to water for showering, we are living in the tropics, and most days the temperature is warm enough that one could tolerate a cold shower. But a cold shower is to be tolerated, not cherished, and while cold water can be invigorating, a cold shower is never relaxing. Plus, to be clear, it is not actually that hot here. It's often overcast and can even be cool and wet (low 70s), particularly in the mornings and evenings.

I said in an earlier post that I had psychologically prepared myself for a year of cold showers. I think I was lying. In fact, I know I was lying. I psychologically prepared myself for a year of warm bucket baths, which are a good alternative to the cold shower. In order to properly bucket bath, you heat a decent sized pot of water upon the propane stove top. While that is heating, you fill a large plastic tub with cold water. Then you mix the smaller volume of heated water with the cold water in to get a comfortable warm bathing temperature. You stand in the tub and splash small bucketfuls of warm water over your body. You can make the water as hot as you like, and you don't really have to have a huge pot of hot water because the ratio is quite high -- something like one part hot to eight parts cold. This is how I bathed during Peace Corps when I couldn't tolerate a cold shower and how I am currently bathing Brynna, who isn't digging the shower on her own quite yet.

Enter: the Frankenstein shower head. And my handy dandy husband, Paul, who knows how much I value a good hot shower and who made sure this week that we have one in our house!

Anyone who has been to Latin America (and/or many other parts of the world that use these) know these bizarre devices well: medium sized plastic shower head thingamajigs with a number of wires sticking out, hooked precariously up to the shower spigot and to some source of electricity. Always looks like a bad idea -- inevitable electrocution for the bather -- but it works, and I am grateful to say that we are the proud owners of a Maxi Ducha Ultra Larenzetti.

The Maxi Ducha shower head is a very basic electrical heating element. As the cold water runs through the pipe into the device, the element heats the water up, and the just-heated water dribbles out onto your grateful head. Yes, dribbles. . .but it's hot, and that is what matters! The shower itself must be turned on to exactly the right water pressure to not overwhelm the heating element, but enough to activate it. The whole thing takes a lot of watts when it is running -- Paul tells me 4500 watts-- compared to a microwave, which is maybe around 1000 or 1500 (check on this). This means that the wires leading into the shower are supposed to be heavier duty than other wires in the rest of the house, and the switch is supposed to be turned off between uses. Thankfully, Paul and our friend Washo installed a dedicated circuit directly from our main electricity supply to the house. I have no idea how to do any of that, but that's why it's wise to pick a good partner. Paul is particularly proud that he attached a ground wire (it is typically left dangling unsafely).

Fair warning: when you turn on the shower, the water heats up beautifully, but the lights in the rest of the house flicker the entire time. Not sketchy at all. Definitely not dangerous (Paul says). Don't worry, the lights stop flickering as soon as you're done with your shower. Your lovely hot shower.

Living a life of luxury. Yes we are.

(BTW I received no money for any specific product endorsement :)

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