Dave walked into town bright and early for his 8:00 meeting with Mr. Chaila. It was our hope that this would be the day when we at last finished the process, begun almost a year before, of drilling a well for the people of Kantolomba. All that remained before actually buying and installing the pump that would bring the water to the surface was to test the well for its capacity. Mr. Chaila knew that our time in Zambia was running out (we will leave, alas, on Wednesday morning) and had promised to arrange for a team to go out to the compound to perform the test. He came through for us wonderfully. After the usual delays and difficulties, Dave found himself out in Kantolomba with Mr. Chaila and three men from the water affairs department.
On the way Dave phoned Theresa. "It's going to happen," he told her. "They are going to pump water from the bore-hole for at least four hours. Tell the people."
First they measured the depth of the well. Then they lowered a pump into the well, attaching three-meter pieces of steel pipe together one by one to bring the water to the surface. This took about an hour. When they finished, the men wired the pump into our electrical system (only three months old now--it is so wonderful to have power!), turned it on, then stood back while the water surged to the surface and poured gloriously onto the ground.
Measuring the depth of the well.
Watching them sink the pump--exactly as we
have done ourselves at the Monastery
Wiring the electricity.
A crowd of thirsty people stood by. As soon as the drillers stepped out of the way, they came forward with containers of every sort to catch the water as it poured out of the pipe. Everyone was smiling. It was inspiring to watch the women help each other lift gigantic buckets onto their heads and to picture them returning to their families with clean water. We cannot express how huge this is to these people after a lifetime of drinking contaminated filth. Everyone filled all the containers they had, and still the water poured from the pipe. We have a lot of water, folks. Mr. Chaila estimated it at 1.2 liters per second. Once we get our system set up, we will be able to just open up the taps and let it run into people's buckets all day. After there were no more containers to fill, the children stepped in, taking turns playing in the stream as if fell to the ground.
The water first emerges.
People come to catch the water.
Everyone pitches in to help carry it home.
The cool water feels good on this HOT day.
Meanwhile, Jen had arranged to meet with Theresa and Regina at the bank. Regina, a new Living Compassion employee and one of the women we mentioned yesterday who has completely healed from a serious leg wound (she's a widow with nine children, and was trying to work enough to feed her children while enduring the pain of a deteriorating leg), has been waiting for a pension check from her late husband's work place for over a year now. The check was finally issued last week, but she has no way to cash it. Theresa and Jen planned to assist her.
The three spent nearly two hours going from one office to the next with little success. It turns out the only way for Regina to cash the check is to open a bank account and deposit it, which, of course, would be an impossibility for someone in Regina's circumstances. A bank account requires money to open it, several trips into town, reference letters from employers and more--all steps that would be insurmountable for the average resident of Kantolomba. Theresa and Jen vowed to hang in there and help her take the necessary steps to open the account and get her check cashed.
Theresa and Regina walking to the pension office.
Next, Jen went to the Permanent Secretary's office to plead for them to squeeze in a meeting with us tomorrow since we are leaving on Wednesday. Esther, the PS's very sweet assistant, felt optimistic that she could make that work. Hooray.
Then around town to clean-up last minute errands including buying more chitenge for the sewing co-op to keep making products and some to bring home for any of you who might be as taken with these beautiful African fabrics as we are.
Theresa and Regina help pick out chitenge.
Finished with in-town business, Theresa, Regina, and Jen joined Dave in Kantolomba to witness the pump test. It was great fun for all of us to be there and see the community catching the good, clean water pouring from the well.
It is truly a community feeling.
Before leaving Kantolomba, we had one more important piece of business. We met with the owners of the properties next door to the Living Compassion compound, hoping to finalize negotiations for the sale. The meeting went well, and we were able to strike a deal that works very well for everyone--we will pay a little extra, and the owners will leave their roofs--which means we will have a better chance of not losing the houses during the rainy season. We are buying four of the six houses now and will negotiate for the other two after the rainy season. We are excited about the expansion and all the possibility that comes with it. This project is growing leaps and bounds right before our eyes, almost with a life of its own. Very fun.
Some of the gentlemen selling their properties to us.
It was mid-afternoon by this time and our hunger sent us back to the guesthouse for a late lunch and some communication with the team back home. It was easy to feel really good about all we're accomplishing; this is turning out to be perhaps the most successful trip yet--to be completing the purchase of the houses, and to be finally finishing with the well! Things are coming together in a way that reflects the work we have put in here over the past many months.
There we were, talking about how great it will be in January to finally put our own pump in the ground and to provide at long last a reliable source of clean water for the people of Kantolomba, when the phone rang. It was Mr. Chiluba, the owner of a small well-drilling outfit that Eunice had told us about. Earlier in the day Dave had called him, motivated by a wish to try a private company for the last stage of the well project and a hope that we could set things up in advance for January. At the time of Dave's call Mr. Chiluba was at his headquarters in Kitwe, about an hour away. Now he was in Ndola. "I am here," he said, "When can we meet?"
Dave invited him up to the guesthouse. We liked him immediately: he is very professional and down-to-business, clearly a man accustomed to getting things done.
We discussed the details of our project and talked about costs. Then we explained to Mr. Chiluba that we would be leaving on Wednesday and hoped to make arrangements on this trip so that the work he would do for us could begin the moment we hit the ground in January.
Mr. Chiluba said, "What about tomorrow?" We stared at him in astonishment.
"You could do it tomorrow?" Dave asked in a dazed voice.
"Yes, certainly," he said. "We can do it in one day. You just need to let me know by the end of the day. You can return to America with pictures."
"Okay!"
We jumped up and went to work. Jen ran to town to the bank to see if we had the money. Dave wrote an email to the boss. By 7:00 it was all arranged. "We will meet at eight hours," said Mr. Chiluba.
Can you believe it? We actually have a shot at leaving Zambia with a functioning well. Dare we get our hopes up once again?
Late in the afternoon Jen went back into town to squeeze a few more tasks into our second-to-last afternoon. As you may remember from previous blogs, getting our official NGO status here in Zambia has been a saga of epic proportions. Though local officials have been very gracious in attempting to help us track down the papers we filed last January, no one has been successful. Consensus seems to be we need to re-file. To this end, Jen set off for the District Commissioner's office for our first opportunity to meet the newly appointed Commissioner. As with all the government officials we work with here, it turns out she is a lovely person, eager to be of assistance. She arranged for someone from her office to escort Jen directly to the appropriate official, who was unfortunately gone for the day. Jen was advised to be there at 8:30 sharp the next morning to find him. We'll be there.