"Well, they just have to stretch out their water,"

"I say this, you know, having been raised Catholic with full knowledge of what I'm saying -- Darlene Arviso is a living saint," said George McGraw, who runs a non-profit called DigDeep.

The fact that McGraw is on the Reservation at all is a testament to just how dire the Navajo situation is. He normally works in developing countries -- digging wells in places like South Sudan, Kashmir and Cameroon.

But now the problem is right in his backyard. "I really had no concept that this kind of material poverty existed in the U.S.," he said.

But it does. The question is, why?

Cowan took that question to Dan McCool, a political science professor at the University of Utah, who has studied Indian water rights for the last 40 years.

"It should be regarded as a national embarrassment," he said of the water situation.

"How is this possible in this day and age that Americans don't have running water?" Cowan asked.

"American Indians in Arizona and New Mexico were not allowed to vote until 1948," McCool said. "They did not have a voice. They weren't in line politically when the money, the funding, the projects and the water [were] being allocated."

So the only source of water left for the Navajo is groundwater, lying deep beneath the hard rock of the Continental Divide.

"We took this project to hydrogeologists, to engineers, to construction specialists all over the country, even here in the Southwest," said McGraw. "And everyone said, 'Well, this is one of the most challenging projects we've ever seen.'"

Even if they can find water, it might not be drinkable.

"You'd probably start to hit water here at about 600 feet, but the water you'd get out would be laced with uranium."

That's from years of mining on the reservation during World War II.

Older water wells dot the landscape.

Sarah Begay, who's lived on the reservation all her life, took Cowan to one. It's still pumping water, but few dare drink from it anymore.

Begay said that for about 20-30 years it was fine, but then people started getting sick.

So DigDeep must dig deeper -- and the clock is ticking.

"Running out of water by the middle of the month is a painful experience," said George McGraw. "Most of them still do."

Lindsay Johnson makes sure she doesn't run out. She has a system to conserve every drop Arviso delivers.

"What would you do without her?" Cowan asked.

"I don't know!" she laughed.

Aside from her morning coffee mug, she uses only paper plates and cups so she doesn't have to wash dishes.

Like her fellow Navajos, Lindsay shares her home with as many as eight other people.

When it comes to washing hair, two, maybe three of them will all use the same water.

Lindsay's 16-year-old granddaughter, Yvonne, says almost everyone here finds ways to cope without running water, but few want to talk about it.

"People don't share their stories," she said. "I don't either. It's kind of embarrassing. It's just hard."

So, Cowan asked, who's to blame for this situation?

"The counties and the states say it's the Federal responsibility, and the Feds say, no, we're broke, it's the state's and county's responsibility," said McCool.

"So a lot of finger-pointing," said Cowan.

"Oh yeah, and a lot of passing the buck."

And so, the Navajo wait.