Dissecting Life

As we’ve been visiting villages over the last few years, I always look for stuff. Village experiences can be some of the most energizing moments, if you’re willing to ask enough questions. I look for old bicycles, rusty signs, jiggers in kids feet, war medals, weird insects, another banana variety, a new dish to try. The list goes on.

Just about the time I think I have a handle on my surroundings, another thing just pops out.

I’ve seen a lot of water wells. They come in several different types (although the India Mark II is by far the most common) and all operate in slightly different ways. A couple of years ago, I would just ask questions like who installed it? Who fixes it? How much are spares? What’s the most common part to break? How many jerrycans are filled in a day? Now I ask questions about the relationships that exist around that well. Questions about jealousy, suspicion, sacrifice, responsibility. It’s fun because these quests inevitably help me understand Uganda and myself much better.

But in July last year something new happened. As I was taking a photo of a Kardia pump (it was the first one I’d seen in the Busoga region), one of the guys pumping water asked if I wanted to see inside.  Inside?! Heck yeah! I wanna see inside!

Why hadn’t I thought about this before? Maybe I was concerned that I would break something and people would be without water. Maybe I was too busy admiring some old brass door knob.  Granted, I’d poked around at a couple that my teammate Spencer had installed, but those were new ones.  Without any story to tell.  Unable to tell me about the problems that would soon befall it.

This middle aged man in Mawundo had unknowingly unleashed a curiosity on poor, unsuspecting villages everywhere.  Because now any time I have a few extra minutes or see that the pump is taking a break, I’m breaking out my wrenches and pulling things apart.  Most folks know that Kibo digs water wells, so they assume I have training or some level of skills.  Note: Assuming is not a good idea.

Most wells scream their story.  An obvious shortcut taken by a handpump mechanic yields disaster.  A rubber bucket not replaced on time can quickly lead to the replacement of a much more expensive brass piston.  The lining of most pump cylinders will tell you quickly as to how diligent the village has been in maintenance.  But then there are other factors.  Non-human ones.  The well handle that was bent because a cow had an itch that needed scratching (granted, a proper fence around the well would have prevented this).  A high concentration of iron-oxidizing bacteria is clogging the cylinder.  Slightly acidic ground water eats away the pipes and rods.

These moments in the village remind me of a childhood in the the plumbing section of our family’s hardware store.  People would flow to the back counter with some of the craziest stories.  Some situations are new to the customer, but to the seasoned customer service representative, I instantly pinpointed the problem.  However, at other times, a customer may have years of history within a certain context, yet to me, it was completely new.  My main job was to listen to the story and try to figure out how to best troubleshoot the problem.  In many ways the rural African context seems similar.

A recurring problem was that something dropped down into the well.  It could be a stick, a rock, or several pieces of pipe.  But how do you get something out of a 200 foot hole that is only 6 inches wide?  We’ve spent hours laughing and being quite frustrated at the top of such a hole.  But my friend, Dave, offered a solution: a borehole camera.  A camera designed to go inside a water well.  The only catch: those puppies are expensive!  My solution: let’s build one!  My dad had an old CCTV system and I got online and ordered a couple of cameras.  Rigged with some LED lights and a waterproof housing, I am now the proud owner of a redneck version of Dave’s ubercool camera.

Friday was our first day to test the camera.  My friend Paul had called a couple of weeks ago, saying that the government engineer had dropped 140 feet of pipe down a 210ft well.  This was the perfect test for our new camera.  When we got the camera down the well and switched on the lights, we found some other issues: 1. Damage on the casing from the pipe falling and 2. a bunch of sticks and plastic water bottles that little kids had tossed down the well.  We haven’t finished the well, but progress has already been made.  It’s been a fun process thus far.  If you’d like to see our new KiBO Kam 7000, here’s a sneak peak.

More info on water wells, hygiene, and sanitation at http://kibogroup.org/projects/water-source