Dzyhivka - Village Life

Village Life

A shipot is the only source of clean running water for villagers. It is similar to a well, consisting of a large metal pipe drilled directly into a hill that taps into an underground natural water source. Very cold water runs constantly and pools at the base. There are several shipots scattered throughout the village, serving as a gathering place and as a rest stop for traveling villagers. Each shipot serves dozens of houses, and residents use buckets to carry drinking water back to their homes. As a common practice, a small container is left at the shipot as a courtesy for weary travelers and for filling jugs with small openings.

The stones at the base serve two functions. On one side (closest to the viewer), the stones are set level, so you can walk up to the pipe, set your bucket on the large stone directly below, and fill your bucket with water. On the opposite side (closest to the wall), the stones are set angled into the water. Each large angled stone serves as an individual laundry station. Saturday has traditionally been laundry day. Women get up very early in the morning to get the best stones closest to the water source. Those who sleep late, go further down the line, where the water is not as clean, because of the runoff from the person upstream. In the summer, when the days are long, this process can start as early as Friday afternoon in an effort to beat the crowd. This event serves as a place to catch up on local news and to discuss important matters.

Read more about this topic:  Dzyhivka

Famous quotes containing the words village life, village and/or life:

    Our village life would stagnate if it were not for the unexplored forests and meadows which surround it.
    Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)

    When a village ceases to be a community, it becomes oppressive in its narrow conformity. So one becomes an individual and migrates to the city. There, finding others likeminded, one re- establishes a village community. Nowadays only New Yorkers are yokels.
    Paul Goodman (1911–1972)

    To divide one’s life by years is of course to tumble into a trap set by our own arithmetic. The calendar consents to carry on its dull wall-existence by the arbitrary timetables we have drawn up in consultation with those permanent commuters, Earth and Sun. But we, unlike trees, need grow no annual rings.
    Clifton Fadiman (b. 1904)