So-Called Waterproof

One of the treasures I brought back from the States in January was a pair of steel-toed, waterproof boots. These made the top of our "must buy in the States" list months before we came home when my big toe was smashed by a rock kicked up by my motorbike's front tire. Thus far, nine months into our time back in Ethiopia, the steel has done its job, as I know of at least one occasion when it spared me another three months painful steps. For that, I am grateful.

 

The second selling point, however, has turned out to be quite the farse. Waterproof? Well huh! Tell that to my dripping socks! No, not just dripping, rather socks from which water streams out like an open faucet!

 

Over the first year and a half of riding the 50 kilometer-commute up to the project location, I never once got caught in the rain. Unfortunately, that streak ended this week, as Work'u and I got nailed twice! Thanks to some rain gear purchased for us by one of our supporting churches in Pennsylvania, Work'u and my computer bearing backpack stayed relatively dry. My waterproof pants, left over from the Kilimanjaro hike, did a good job except for leaking through the front zipper, resulting in what looked like a toddler "accident". My feet, however, twice this week, were extracted from my boots shriveled like prunes, proving that any shoe designed with a hole in the top (into which one sticks one's foot) cannot honestly be called "waterproof". Rather, the boot's effectiveness in preventing the passage of water kinda had the opposite effect. On that first trip, last Monday, after splashing through the umpteenth "pool" of standing water (calling them puddles would be a sad understatement), I wiggled my toes and noticed that, while they are impotent in stopping water from splashing into their tops, they are very effective in not allowing that captured water to escape! Thus, instead of being sold for the attempt to keep feet dry, their marketers should consider promoting their ability to create something more like a luxurious spa experience. Then again, I can't really say that it felt comfortable walking around with buckets of water on my feet. Maybe it could grow on me.