cold

Every time my family goes to New Zealand we always stop by this waterfall for a day and hang out.
I have no idea what it is called.
I think my great aunt or someone jumped off the top of it.
I really have no clue.

Anyways.
We go.

It is like a long walk straight down the side of this mountain on these rinky stairs to get to the bottom.
When we get there; we jump into the water and play around, go under the waterfall and what not.

This last time I was in New Zealand (7th grade.. mind you) my cousins and I jumped into the water.
Worst choice ever but we were on a mission to get to the other side.

This is how it went:
The water was so cold that you had to either choose to swim or breathe.
You would swim a few strokes... maybe to get you a foot or two and then breathe for a minute.
The whole body was tense.
It is hard to breathe.
But I was stupid and just wanted to play.
We all did.

Fast forward to now.
I am in Kenya.
I am way dirty.
Not your average American dirty/greasy grease.
I am talking... my hair is so greasy I am putting bacon out of business.

What do I have to do?
Shower!

I turn on the shower hoping for any sign of water. (it doesn't always work)
It starts as a single drip for thirty seconds and then becomes a double drip for another thirty until it is Victoria Falls after waiting a while.
I stick in one appendage to weigh out how bad it is going to be.
My hair grows so fast from the one touch, I become a hairy bush woman.
There is no turning back.
I just have to suffer as ice drips down my body as I rise, lather and heck no to repeat.

You would think the ice would be great in Kenya.
It is hot here.
I am hot.
But... it is never a fun experience.
And I have a testimony of that.