Morning glory. The flow of warm water slowly wakes me up, the steam it creates penetrates my pores. The temptation of spending an extra couple of minutes in the shower whilst my senses come alive is an easy one to give in to.
I go downstairs and make my cup of tea, filling the kettle with clean water is something I take for granted.
fancy a drink? ehm, no thanks
Meanwhile, millions of women and their children walk more than 14 miles just to get water for their families. Most of this water is contaminated, but it’s the only water they have. They take the chance of catching diseases like bilharzia and schistosomiasis (parasites) – with every sip. There’s nothing they can do to change it.
Maybe we can. I’ve come to realize that the thoughts I send to Africa AS I indulge in my daily shower (I do. Promise) are good for nothing. My sympathy simply doesn’t do the job. It’s time for action and money. And I am happy to say that I’ve taken my first little step towards making a change.
Hot gossip – We had stayed in the desert town of Merzouga for five nights, and just when we were about to depart we drove past these guys. The temperatures were nearing 40 degrees C, and they were seeking refuge in the shade. We made a hurried u-turn on the improvised, pebbly road. Camera in hand, my husband sign languaged their permission to take their picture. Women photographers are quite simply not taken seriously in Muslim Morocco. At least, asking for a photograph is not a straight forward affair if you’re a woman.
The men nodded hesitantly, not understanding why they made a wonderful subject matter. We knew instinctively this had to be a fast shoot as we didn’t want the men to realise we wanted to incorporate the all American sign behind them in the photo. It’s one of those unposed moments that continues to give us the buzz that travel photography holds.