The one thing I may never understand about Central America

Electric showers.

Since I was a kid I have learned that electricity and water do not go together. An image of a plastic tag on a hair dryer comes to mind, with a descriptive black and red cartoon of a stick figure being electrocuted after the hair dryer falls in the sink.

Here, instead of having a hot water heater, they use electricity to heat the water right in the shower head. What this means is that when going into the shower, there is an array of electric wires just hanging out by the shower head like its no big deal. Forget having them encased in some water proof rubber casing or something. That would be too safe, would make too much sense.

Understandably, a hot water heater requires gas, i believe, and money and more pipes. it all gets complicated. and in these types of houses and buildings, the complications, i suppose, outweigh the possibility of being electrocuted.

I had come to terms with the electric shower until two days ago in San Pedro. I splurged and got a private room in a hostel with a private bathroom since I hadn't showered for awhile and was tired of not having my own space. For 7 american dollars, a bed and a shitty bathroom, all in a room of my own and painted that lovely turquoise that is ever so prevalent in central america, i figured it was worth it. Fine. So I took a shower. In the middle of said shower, POP! poppop...pop. Ok, not as scary when typed out. But imagine enjoying being clean for the first time in 3 days and suddenly a sound like a gun going off above your head jars you out of your shower dreams back into the reality of electric showers in fucking central america. The electricity went out, the shower turned off, then just as quickly as it happened, everything was back on again, and i was standing in the shower naked, with a head full of shampoo dripping into my eyes, petrified of getting back under that stream of water, in Guatemala.