My Childhood on an Island!

I woke up in the middle of the night feeling hungry. I didn't eat my dinner last night and fell asleep very early, and that's the reason. I tried to sleep for about one and a half hours and finally decided to get up and eat something. Time is also a perception, and somewhere in the world, it would be 8 a.m. around that time. Therefore, I told myself it was okay to get up, eat something, and write or read.

Yesterday, I wrote about my grandmother, and since then, I have been remembering my childhood in her home. I am remembering where we got water. Growing up in a rural area made me aware that water does not come from the tap and rice does not come from stores. We had a well, which was a man-dug well. It had a wall to protect us from falling down. I knew how to take water by using a bucket tied with a long rope from that well since I was very young.

We did not have a bathroom, and we bathed in an open space near the well. We washed our clothes near our well. In summer, our well usually dried up and had only a limited water supply. We had to go and bathe and wash our clothes in our neighbors' wells, which still had good water sources. After that, we would also carry some amount of water back home for regular use. When women were using the well, men did not come near us, and therefore, I felt safe.

In some villages, they did not have good water sources, and therefore, needed to go a very long way to carry water. These girls and women, we said, had better body shapes because they needed to walk a long way and carry water. When everyone was doing that, carrying water over my head was nothing special, and I was very willing to do that to help my grandmother. I felt useful.

Both in front of our home and behind it were paddy fields, and nothing obstructed my views. There was a stream behind our home that separated our home from the paddy fields. It was linked to the sea, and therefore, the water had a salty taste. I am remembering and missing those days.

Now the place has changed a lot with the development of a bridge linked to the nearby city. Previously, we needed to take ferries to go there. I needed to learn how to balance and walk on a thin wooden slab connecting the ferries and the harbor since I was very young. Rarely, but there were times when people fell from that place into the water, and therefore, it was not safe even for adults. Nevertheless, I survived all these. 

My childhood was not as wild or as hard as Dr. Tara Westover's childhood for sure, and what I had was just normal for a child in that area, and it was fun for me. I think I am even missing those days now.

These are some memories that came into my mind this morning.

image generated with AI