Washing Dishes, Taking Baths

October 17, 2012

Yes, I know the title is irresistible.  But there's a whole culture in those watery topics--and they don't have much depth because that would be environmentally harmful.

I learned to take shallow baths in Tonga, where I'd draw the water from the well, pour it into a jerry can, dip out enough to fill my kettle, and heat the kettle on my kerosene stove.  Then I'd pour the hot water into a pan and add enough to turn it warm and increase it to at least a gallon.  Then I'd take off my clothes and kneel down in the space with the concrete floor, soap myself, and pour the water over sudsy me.

Now I let the water run into the bathtub--but only enough to cover the bottom of the tub.  I follow a similar procedure, but it's more than a gallon I use.  It's not as much as a shower, though--at least not the showers I know about.

We saw a video in my Environmental Science class, and I admired the woman.  She took a shower with each foot in a bucket so she could catch the water and use it for other things.  Me?  I belong to that self-indulgent generation when young people--once out of the Peace Corps--prefer taking baths with a significant other rubbing their back  to taking it with two buckets at their fee.  But I respect the woman in the video.

Now, back to a better carbon footprint.  I put just enough water in the tub to wash off my carbon footprint.  And as you know  (shhhhh), I don't take a bath every day. 

Moving from the bathroom to the kitchen:  I always wondered why I never knew what people were talking about when they mentioned the Summer of Love.  Then I looked it up in my 1967 diary and realized that I wasn't in San Francisco during the Summer of Love.  I was doing volunteer work at an orphanage in Mexico, and when I wasn't taking care of newborn babies, I was eating or watching my Mexican "sister" wash the dishes.  They didn't have running water in the kitchen, so she took all the dishes out to the patio sink and gave them a sponge bath pretty much like the one I gave myself in Tonga.  She used a soapy sponge to wash every glass, cup, plate, or piece of flatware, and then she poured cold water over them all.
That reminds me that the heater wasn't left on.  It was turned on (lit) when someone needed to take a shower, and then it was turned off.

That reminds me of what we learned in home economics in junior high school.  This was the procedure for washing dishes:
Put warm water and soap in the basin.
Wash the glasses first.
Then wash the silverware.
Then wash the plates.

I'm not quite sure about rinsing, but I think maybe the dishes were put into rinse water.  But there was none of this business of just letting the water run.  There was always a plug in the sink, capturing the water, and I wonder whether the practice started when there were no pipes but just basins.

Do YOU know?

More about today's carbon footprint:

In Walgreen's I didn't buy the Comet Cleanser I know and love because I know it's harmful to the environment.  But I spread the word to Kathy, the salesclerk there.
Me:  Hi, Kathy.  How are you doing?
Kathy:  Fine.  How are you?
Me:  Fine.  I'm taking a really interesting course in environmental science, and our teacher is an expert in toxicology, so we've learned not to use cleaning products that are bad for the environment.
Kathy:  I like Comet Cleanser, myself.
Me:  So do I!  But I'm wondering what we can use that won't poison our water supply.
Kathy:  Gee, I don't know.
Me:  Baking powder maybe?
Kathy:  Yes, I've heard you can make a paste with water.  But I have no idea how that works
Me;  I'll let you know.