Hand-dug well, part 1

 We’ve been in the town we call Fize for a month now.  I spent all of the first two weeks setting up our house, and then I started my new job with the Community Development Project that our NGO runs here.  My start with the project was abrupt, because on my first day I was told that the hand-dug well project in one of the villages was about to fail.  Off to the village I went, with one of the project driver/facilitators telling me the background story on the way.

Three months ago the project signed a contract with a local man to dig a well, by hand, either until he found water or until he reached 45 meters.  3 weeks ago at a depth of about 35 meters, he said that the hole started to fill in with sand.  For 2 frustrating weeks he and his co-worker struggled to fight the sand, then they gave up and said the well could not be completed.  The well project contract read that he would not be paid unless he completed the work, but he argued otherwise.  One of our more technically inclined staff (my driver/facilitator today, I’ll call him Harry) sought out another well digger and received some advice.  Today we were going to try to teach our well digger the technique that we had learned.

After a 90-minute bumpy mountain road drive, we arrived at the village.  The hole in the ground outside the village looked abandoned.  We got a few tools out while we waited for the well digger to appear.  He finally showed up, regretfully, and went right into complaining that the sand could not be beat.  I was surprised that a man who supposedly was an expert at digging wells by hand had never encountered and found a way through a challenge like this.  Harry my facilitator went to work trying to explain the new technique to the well digger.  His style and skill as a facilitator was excellent.  He could have been tempted to disregard the complaining well digger and look for another one to finish the job, but instead he poured all his energy into encouraging and building the understanding of the well digger we had.  I liked Harry’s style, and I was glad to be there to help.

Now how can I explain to you the technique that we taught the well digger?  In order to keep digging, he had to have a way to hold the sand back against the walls of the well shaft.  He had tried to make a perimeter with sheet steel, but it had not worked.  So we told him that our new technique was for him to pour a cement ring (80cm diameter by 50cm height) at the bottom of the well, let it cure, then resume digging inside that cement ring.  As he dug within the cement ring, he would push the cement ring straight down into the hole he was clearing for it.  Once he dug and sunk that cement ring a full 50cm, then there would be room for another cement ring on top of the first, and then on top of the second, third, fourth, and so on.  To pour the cement rings, we were going to make steel forms for both the outer and inner circumferences.  In order to give the cement rings strength and keep them together as they sunk lower, we brought six 200cm x 14mm steel rebar that would stand vertical in between the steel forms, to be encased in cement.  I hope this makes sense, if not, reread this paragraph because this is my best explanation!

The new technique explained, the well digger sat down on a rock and scratched his shaved head in dismay.  He didn’t believe it would work.  He doubted the feasibility of digging inside a 80cm cement ring, he doubted that the sand would allow the cement rings to sink, and he doubted that it was worth this much effort.  Harry, exhausted by his attempts to encourage, turned to me and said in the local language, “will it work, can you help me convince him?”  I doubted I could do a better job than Harry at encouraging, but I decided to at least try to answer the well digger’s doubts.  First I did the cultural necessity and patted his ego by complimenting the work he had done.  I admitted that my untrained limbs could not dig in the dark inside a 80cm cement ring, but that with his specialized, God-given skill, I was confident he could do it.  Then I assured him that the cement ring would sink as he dug, as long as the steel form released it.  In order to ensure the steel form would release it, he needed to: 1- grease the form, 2- use a spirit level to level the forms, and 3- make sure the form had a slightly bigger bottom diameter.  The well digger listened close, and the small group of guys from the village all leaned in to hear the foreigner that spoke their language in an unusual way.  I wasn’t sure if I had communicated anything sensible, but Harry seemed pleased, and took over by asking the men, “are you with us?”  To the surprise of both of us, the well digger stood and said, “alright, let’s do it.”

The next 3 hours were spent perfecting the steel forms for the cement rings.  This involved 5 of us taking turns measuring, cutting, pounding, welding, arguing, second-guessing, and trying again.  Twice we went after more tools and more guys that we thought would be helpful to include.  It was not the easiest process; I couldn’t convince the well digger to wear eye protection, or shoes, when he was welding.  But by lunch-time the forms were nearly done, and the well site had become a big party.  Two school-age boys showed up with bread and kettles, and we all squatted on the ground to eat.  Out of the kettle flowed milk tea, which probably contained more salt than any other ingredient.  After we had all drank our bowlfuls of tea we all jumped back to work, all except the well digger who curled up to a boulder, rested his head on a pair of shoes, and took a nap. 

The forms completed and the well digger awake again, the afternoon sped along as we lowered the forms to the bottom of the well, and prepared to pour the first ring.  The challenge of the 35-meter well shaft became more clear to me while we did this.  As the well digger descended into the hole on a spool of rope, the spool had barely turned and he was already out of sight.  The spool turned over and over again until he finally reached bottom.  Then everyone held their breath and leaned toward the hole to try to make out what the well digger was yelling from the bottom.  Not to worry, he just needed a bucket.

By the time everything was perfectly ready for cement to start being lowered down the well shaft for the first ring, Harry and I needed to head back to town.  The day had been a success; I left with a real sense that this project was going to succeed.

Four days later, Harry and I were on the road again, heading back to check the progress on the well.  Harry had actually returned to check on the first ring the day after it was poured, and he came back reporting that everything was going well.  Now 3 days had passed since either of us had been there, and the well digger had been on his own.  Although we did not know what we would find when we arrived, the last thing we expected was for the well digger to emerge from the well wearing only a long shirt, hard hat, and a smile.  With complete confidence he told us that he had found an adequate supply of water, and the well was a success.  I was impressed that in 4 days he had dug another 1.5 meters, sinking 3 cement rings with him as he dug.  The new technique had worked!

On that day we began to run a 1” electric pump so that the digging could continue.  The well digger excitedly thought it was enough to have water up to his chest, but actually for this project we need to have a resting depth of 150cm water after 6 hours of running an electric pump.  So, he’s still digging, and the stack of cement rings in the bottom of the well has grown to 5.  The electric pump and control box that will automatically send water from the well to a reservoir in the village will be installed as soon as the depth of water is adequate.  I’m hoping this will happen next week, and if all goes well, I’ll post some pictures from the well for you here.  Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the well digger keeps his pants on for the pictures.