Juan’s motorbike sputtered to a near standstill as we bounced up yet another rocky hill. I felt the throttle release and prepared for the downshift that would send the bike lurching forward and nearly topple me backwards onto the gouged up excuse for a “dirt” road behind us. Fifteen hundred miles from home, one kilometer to La Sevita.
Perhaps I should back up for a moment.
In the fall of 2008, I traveled with my family to India for two months. To say the very least, that trip opened my eyes. I had heard the term “global water crisis” thrown around in a couple of my science classes at Franklin High School, but to me it had always been some obscure event far from the here and now.