Getting into Hot Water

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Before the rains arrive, we are going to need some water, for drinking and cooking and general ablutions like washing and of course, the loo, which I return to later. Now that we have a roof over our heads and everyone has settled in, the finer details are next on the list. I have already purchased a new plastic tank, to replace the one that had been stolen.

There is a great demand for plastic water tanks in Harare. The municipal water supply is totally unreliable and when there is water in the taps, it is definitely not drinkable. This has created a demand for borehole water which is fulfilled by a network of privately owned water tankers that slog from various boreholes to anyone who has the money, and the storage capacity, for the water. Hence, the plastic water tanks which are placed on towers, to give pressure to the taps. An upmarket residence in the suburbs of Harare, can have any number of these large tanks lined up on the premises. They are filled with water tankers, that are a phone call away. Often there is a borehole, but by this time of the year, with so many boreholes sucking away at the water table, the boreholes, often, run dry.

Upon the hill, in the treehouse, there is no municipal water and our borehole is running dry, so we have secured the services of Charles, who will deliver water to us' whenever we ask. For a price, of course. His tanker is at the lower end of the spectrum, as far as water tankers go. In Harare. They come in all shapes and sizes. Proper commercial tankers, with brand names like Orca, emblazoned on the side, right down to flatbed trucks with a row of the same plastic tanks strapped in place. Charles’s water truck is of this genre. It has a blue and white feature on top of the cab, giving it something of an international feel. Many trucks in Zimbabwe have been imported second-hand from Japan and Europe. I can’t place my figure on from where Charles’s water wagon started out, but it was most certainly far away.

As soon as we have solved the water problem, the next one comes up. What about hot water? To wash ourselves, and the dishes, hot, or at least warm water, would be a little luxury. I don’t recall Swiss family Robinson having this requirement, but we do. The immediate solution, last century, would be fire, but with carbon sensitivity at an all-time high, this is not the way we are going. The sun is what we turn to' but not with solar panels, as you may have assumed. I have a cunning plan for another plastic tank but this time smaller and black. I didn’t mention the fact that most plastic tanks here are green, but you do get black ones. It occurs to me that a black tank of about 1000 litres, standing in the sun, all day, will get quite warm.

With this objective in mind, we set off to acquire one. Our means of transport is an old Toyota Corolla 1600, which had been my mother’s last car. It has stayed in the family since she passed away some 15 years ago. It was dubbed The Unicorn, by my nephews, in their teenage years. Now that they are grown up, the next phase of it's life is facing the Harare traffic, with me at the wheel. I think The Charger, is more appropriate. Back with our family reading material, Black Beauty comes to mind.

Like most 3rd world cities, Harare has a chaotic traffic protocol, for want of a better word. To anyone newly arrived, the fact that there is any kind of agreement on what is going on, is in understandable doubt. It is for this reason that I do not hesitate in thinking I can buy a tank and drive home with it tied to the roof of The Charger.

On our return to the treehouse, I explain to Mila and Ella that we have to get the tank onto the platform, at the top of the gum pole tower. Where, incidentally, a larger green one had been before it was stolen, in my absence. This proves to be a lot of fun.

As you can see here

A plastic tank doesn’t weigh much but it doesn’t fit easily between trees in a forest. It takes some manoeuvering, observed by Oscar on a nearby anthill. Once we have it in situ, we have to then drag it up onto the top of the tower. Once that is achieved, we sit up there in the tower, with the tank on the platform above our heads, A job well done!

The girls begin to dream of building a treehouse. Can we build a treehouse here? I want to ask “like a dream within a dream?”'. It is obvious that the difference with their tree house, will be that it is their idea.