Each in turn receives the full energy of the group with the pouring of water. I think of Jesus washing the feet of the apostles. I am in the presence of the holy. The women do not wash their own hands. There is not enough in the small tin for all.
Water is precious.
There is a well now, but it is still a long trip down and back up the slopes, a long way to carry heavy containers on one's head. So the women who have brought clean water to the village do not now share directly in the ritual cleansing. Instead they sit tall, proud, expectant, drinking in our experience of the miracle they have brought forth. There is not enough food, either. Now that our hands are cleansed, we are offered unsweetened, flat English biscuits from a brown paper bag, along with a choice of Coca Cola or Fanta.