5.45am , Hut G5, Dabari Camp, Jaisalmer, Rajasthan, India.
My natural body clock is now very much in tune with my surroundings. I have no need for my alarm, which is just as well because the electricity has gone out again and I haven’t been able to charge my phone for the last three days.

I climb down the metal sand-covered ladder of my top bunk, eyes barely open, and collect my bucket from the bathroom. I head out of the straw-roofed hut to fetch water from the pump to take a bucket shower. This action felt absurd just two weeks ago, but I’ve rapidly become accustomed to the early mornings and lack of water. The water is dependent on electricity, something which is non-existent most days. You just get used to it.

On the journey from camp to Jodha School I think my bladder’s about to explode. As soon as the bus stops, I scuttle off directionless in an attempt to find the toilet. After what feels like hours I walk over to one of the children and give my best Hindi attempt "shauchaalay".  Dulga looks at me with confusion. A little clearer and slower: "Shauchaalay. The toilet… Shau-chaalay". The clever 10-year-old laughs and turns her head, pointing towards what looks like a brick wall with some openings in it. Where’s the door?

The sleeping train got me used to the long drop toilets and the absence of a flush and toilet roll, but I most certainly wasn’t prepared for this kind of lack of privacy. All I could think about was germs and standing in other people’s waste. I stood staring at what I can only describe as an area of sand. My OCD face stared blankly for a few seconds before I eventually plucked up the courage to make my way over to the toilet area.

"I thought of water as both the cure and the cause."

Literally hours before we were due to go on our community visit, the monsoon started. Apparently it had come early this year; it wasn’t supposed to come for another month. It was crazy to see the effects of merely one or two hours of rain. There were pools everywhere and countless numbers of children by each one, swimming in them, playing, laughing and drinking.

I thought of water as both the cure and the cause. In a matter of hours the Jaisalmer desert looked greener than ever before. As if someone had waved a magic wand. Land that I was sure had been a golden sandy colour earlier was luscious, green and living.

But I knew that the water was by no means clean. The pools of rain water had formed directly over lumps of animal and human faeces and this was the water that the children played in and drank from as though it was sanctified and pure. As the bus drove to our school’s village, I watched the happy and excited faces of the children as they splashed about in the dirty water, play fighting. I loved to see them happy but I couldn’t help thinking of all the disease and infection that lingered in the water.

"The pools of rain water had formed directly over lumps of animal and human faeces and this was the water that the children played in and drank from as though it was sanctified and pure."

After two cups of masala chi and a long and detailed chat with the day care lady, I realised just how major the water and sanitation issue was. She explained how she was saving up to build a toilet in her home, but not everybody could afford to do this. It was a privilege. I couldn’t understand how this would work effectively with no running water in the homes of the community. I thought it would probably work in the same way as outside, but at least it would be indoors to make it safer for women to use the toilet. And the waste would be less likely to be washed away by the rain, making the whole thing a little more hygienic. "Even in the school", I vented, "it would be a start to simply put some doors on hinges so that the children felt that they could go to the toilet in private."

I looked around and sighed, realising just how great the problems were here. Yet people were happy, despite it all. Living in London, I've never experience power cuts, I have constant electricity, constant running water from all seven taps in my house and have an inside toilet. All these things I took for granted, but I realised I was about to become a lot more appreciative of everything.

Words and photos: Safie Benoit

Safie went to India as part of Platform2's overseas volunteering programme. For more information please visit www.myplatform2.com