I grew up in Singapore with water imported from (the) Malaya(n peninsula) across the causeway.
It wasn't just a matter of having to pay for every drop of water used. There was also the constant worry about Malaya/Malaysia switching off the tap on us (because of political disagreements, say).
The amount of water imported has gone down since, with the (as ever forward-thinking) government creating more reservoirs and water supplies in recent decades, but the island state is not totally self-sufficient (yet).
My mother was the lone breadwinner. We were not poor, but we were not rich either, with my mother having to support five children plus other relatives (to start with, those living under our roof: my mother's younger sister and younger brother, as well as my father's orphaned cousin who acted as my nanny and general domestic help).
Water usage was therefore deeply ingrained in my upbringing, along with other things like morals and ethics -- all of which I'm proud of having been taught, especially after seeing the shockingly lax approach of people over here.
My family could've invented or initiated the practice of water recycling that only started to come into currency in the last couple of decades (in my consciousness of it).
There was a bucket permanently positioned by the kitchen sink, to receive non-greasy water (from washing rice and veg, and from rinsing dishes after the soapy first round) for watering the plants in the garden. (It was a bungalow with a huge garden all around, and some 50 pots of orchids, plus flower beds. Plants had to be watered twice a day given the tropical heat and burning sunshine.)
My father built a water butt from five concrete rings stacked up to the eaves for receiving rain water from the gutters. This water would be used for washing the dog (and the cat on one disastrous occasion), the concrete floors and the cars, as well as for watering the plants. Oh, for cleaning out the crocodile [concrete] pond as well -- yes, we kept crocs (not as pets but for turning their skin into handbags, purses / wallets, belts, watch straps and shoes).
My sister-in-law has kept up this practice herself, putting aside the water from the washing machine's rinsing cycle in buckets, ready for flushing the loo. I'm so proud of her.
I was shocked to have witnessed these episodes in my earlier years here in London:
1. A Brit turning on the tap and letting it run while he washed fresh mushrooms one by one.
2. A German friend who came to stay turning on the tap for wetting his toothbrush, then leaving it on while he squeezed toothpaste onto the brush, then brushing his teeth with the tap still running all the while.
When I pointed both episodes out to British people over here, their reaction was: "We have so much water in this country that that is not a problem for us."
My Swiss boyfriend back in the 1980s said, "It's not just the amount that's available. A lot of work and energy has gone into purifying that water to the level of making it drinkable straight from the tap. It's not right to just let so much of it drain away unnecessarily." I was so proud of him.
I've often thought that those people with the shocking lack of awareness or concern about how precious water is should go and live in places where it's a rare commodity, e.g., Africa, with people having to walk for miles just to fetch a container of water (which is all they can manage to carry all that distance). Even then, not always clean water at that either. (A bit like making motorists use the bicycle for a while to see how dangerously some motorists' driving can be for the cyclist.)
My own observations, unfortunately, have not made me optimistic about people's behaviour improving in spite of the threat posed by climate change to our future fresh water supply. Selfishness and laziness seem to be stronger forces, I'm afraid.
NB: The "eco" in the title is for both economical and ecological.
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