College Station, Texas
loconut Milk, Drills Dig Wells In India
Kharpudi, India (KF) — The
feoth century has arrived in Khar-
mdia — and not a moment too
oon.
If a small American town had a
roblem that only an elephant
ould solve, and the elephant sud-
enly showed up on main street
i all its oriental trappings, the
consternation would not be great
er than in this North-Indian vil
lage when the well-drilling rig
drive ponderously into view
across their drought - parched
fields.
A mundane, unlovely piece of
practicality in its native environ
ment, the rig was exotic, mys-
Y 28
e at th(
oat and
..Jl
DROUGHT ENDED
Suddenly water gushes out after a day of drilling. Water
ms been rationed in this small village in Maharashtra
State, India, after three years of drought. Little more
;han mud is left in a single remaining well. Water may
enable the farmers to harvest a crop for the first time
since 1963.
nore
CHILD TRYS TAP WATER
Amazed at the advent of water from a tap, a ten-year-old
hesitates before taking a drink. Irrigation wells with
power pumps to provide enough water for agricultural
needs is the next step in relieving India’s chronic and acute
food shortage. (Photos: CORAGS)
terious, and more than a little
fearsome to the crowd of idle
villagers who watched its com
ing. Idle they were indeed, for all
activity in Kharpudi had ground
to a halt for lack of water.
The village wells were shallow,
hand. dug. Bedrock lies close
under the soil in this part of
India. Shovels can reach only
water above the rock. All such
water sources have been exhaust
ed in three long rainless years.
In Kharpudi, water was ra
tioned. Each family was allowed
to draw each day one pot of
water from the only well remain
ing. In half an hour of pains
taking dipping with a hand buck
et, a woman could collect a pot
of murky brown liquid. That must
suffice her family for the day’s
cooking, drinking, and washing.
Kharpudi’s council of elders had
met, listless under their bright
turbans, and agreed to let the
stranger try his magic. The
stranger, John McLeod, a Scotch
agricultural missionary, appoint
ed a day. And on this morning
the grotesque monster was inch
ing into Kharpudi, raising a
dusty trail on the sun baked
ridge.
No road passes through Khar
pudi, but there is an open space
on the central high ground
among the 200 or so clay-and-
stone cottages of the village.
Local wise men advised that a
good supply of water lay under
that space in a spot near the
temple.
McLeod, knowing that the suc
cess of his operation depended
on the good will of village lead
ers, went over the ground care
fully and agreed to drill in the
spot indicated. He would have
preferred lower ground. From
the rise, they might have to drill
200 feet or more to reach a good
water supply.
Kharpudi was the first village
in the Jalna area to which the
drill rig came. It was important
that this first well be achieved
smoothly, so that future oper
ations would have local coopera
tion. The equipment has great
potential for helping in the ef
fort to overcome India’s severe
and prolonged drought.
The drilling team guides the
rig toward Kharpudi’s clustered
houses across a barren slope.
Dogs bark, chickens scatter be
fore the apparition. From win
dows and doorways children peer
timidly. They have seen bullock
carts and bicycles. But this ma
chine is so big it must maneuver
carefully to fit between the walls
on the way to the drilling site.
As the crew prepares to hoist
the rig and start the drill, the
elders step forward with a coco
nut which they crack open on a
rock, spilling its milk over dusty
ground. They sprinkle colored
powder on the well site, and
burn incense to insure plentiful
water.
Then the roar of the compres
sors begins, and the steel bit
cuts into the earth, sending up
a fine dust to coat the faces of
the watchers.
As the day wears on the crowd
thins to a few children and old
we’re
notive
ig and
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men. The rest of the village goes
about the few tasks that can still
be done. One of them is a daily
trip by bullock cart to a well
three miles away for a token
supply of water, part of a hope
less effort at irrigation to pro
duce some harvest from the
withered fields.
Just before the drill enters the
rock that prisons water beyond
the reach of villagers’ shovels,
there is a brief spurt of mud. It
does not last long. Through the
still, parched afternoon the gi
gantic chatter of the pneumatic
hammer hangs tensley over Khar
pudi. The drill reaches 100 feet,
150. Men sit in the lengthening
shadows watching the drill team
move around the screaming mons
ter that has occupied their vil
lage. It is late. The crew pre
pares to stop work for the day.
The drill reaches 170 feet down.
Suddenly there is a rush of
water shooting out around the
air hammer. A brief cheer, and
the drill is brought up, the hole
covered. The crew leaves. Silence
and doubt descend with night on
the village. All day there was
great magic-making. But still
they have no water to drink.
Early next morning the hole
is opened. The chief elder peers
down into the narrow black
opening. Noncommital, he steps
back. Then there is more activity.
A charge of high explosives is
lowered into the hole to enlarge
the well chamber. A muffled
thump announces detonation.
The metal lining for the shaft
is sunk, and a pump to force the
water up. There is much assembl
ing and tinkering and testing.
When the pumphead is install
ed, village women begin to
gather, hopefully carrying water
jars. A few strokes of the pump
handle bring a fitful splutter,
then a steady stream from the
tap.
The water is very cold, very
clear. The first woman touches
the stream that is pouring into
her jar. She has pulled water up
from the earth in a bucket all of
her life. Never until now has
water flowed into her jar with
such incredible ease.
Children crowd around for a
turn at the pump handle, for a
sip of the water. Parents look on
in joy that has a touch of dis
belief.
McLeod, however, has already
gone on to visit the next village
in this thirsty valley. Another
council of elders is about to meet
the 20th century. Coconut milk
and a power drill will get you
a glass of water—and hope.
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