HI HO, HI HO, IT'S OFF TO WORK WE GO... February 20, 2012

After a wonderful, tasty hot breakfast, we were told we had the choice of walking to the dam site or riding in the "TING-A-MA-JIG" but nearly all of us chose to walk, following along behind Dinesh.  Over dusty trails, which appeared to lead nowhere in particular, we came over a rise to see some of the crew from the tent village erecting a Potty Tent, not too far from the actual area where we would be working to construct the dam.  The paid workers were already there and hard at work. Some  of the women, who were clothed in bright colored salwar kameezes with orange head scarves, turned briefly to see what disturbance had interrupted their rhythm in mixing the masala (concrete mix) or in passing it along and down into the pit, where the very floor of the footing showed a great deal of progress.  The first, and perhaps the most crucial step had been taken - that of digging out the area which would then be filled with stones and covered over with dry and then wet masala mix.  In previous years, we had been responsible for the digging, by hand, of the trenches for the footing, so this was a real advance for us to have the huge trench already dug. The dimensions were approximately forty feet across to the other side, about fifteen feet in depth, and about one hundred and fifty feet from end to end. This was a good deal larger than the first two dams we had helped to construct the previous two years.  Almost immediately, we split into teams of twenty members and formed lines for passing basins of rocks or masala and then passing the empties back for refilling. Although most of the members of the team had never been involved in such a project, the team concept took hold and we were off and passing in only a few minutes. Some lines passed from one to the next person, both facing the same direction, while others of us determined it might be more beneficial to face one another, particularly if we were passing full basins of masala. When the women were filling the basins, they would double scoop them and they would be far heavier than those which were frilled with by Doug Fowler or Tim Mulcrone or Devo Ramalingam. Our own team members were a bit more cognizant of what it took for a bunch of somewhat out of shape, older folks to pass very heavy basins, and we also felt strongly by not filling the basins completely, we would be more productive and for a longer period of time than if we dropped from exhaustion and heat stroke.  "Don't forget to stay hydrated! Make sure you drink plenty of water and make sure to drink some electrolytes, too! Don't try to be a hero and not take a break!" These were all good warnings which each of us should be heeding, but as is always the case, until it is too late, a few always ignore the warnings and then get faint and drop to their knees. There were a few who sadly learned the lesson.  They were moved over into a shady area, where Camp Nurse Kelly would watch over them and make very sure they took in enough water and electrolytes. Also, when some got splinters, she offered Neosporin and band aids and even a safety pin to dig out the splinters. That first day, Kelly commandeered four bags of cement to be stacked so she had somewhere to sit that was not on the ground and full of long thorns. Every hour, she would have to readjust and face a different direction in order to avoid being in the direct sunlight. After about an hour of backbreaking work, both along the lines and in the "pit", we took our first break.  And did we ever need it. I suggested at this point that we needed to remember, "this is not a race, people! We need to learn to pace ourselves, because if we don't, we will not be good to or for anyone and every member is crucial to the mix. Take the time to assess your own strengths and weaknesses and do not over exert yourselves". Back to work for another hour and a half and the it was lunchtime. Initially, we thought we would be returning to the tent village for lunch, but we're told that lunch was being prepared and brought to us. Wow, what service! Time seemed to pass and still no lunch. Then, out of nowhere,we heard the coughing of the "TING" and soon it appeared over the hill. The boys from the camp had set up the chafing dishes with hot food and passed us tin plates and utensils. But the best part was the fact that they had placed a fifty-five gallon drum with a fire inside, so one of them could make chapatis or rotis, the nan type of bread that is a flattened ball of raw dough, that is then slapped against the outside wall of concrete within the barrel, and cooked until done. Sorry, but this is a bit difficult to explain.  If one is dexterous and wishes to practice eating in a more native fashion, one could simply use the chapati to scoop up the food from the plate, rather than using conventional forks or spoons. Lunch was delicious and finished much too quickly for some of us. After we finished eating, several of us went out to lie down on the ground and just rest before returning to "the line".  The remainder of the afternoon proceeded relatively uneventful, with no serious injuries and everyone pitching in at their respective comfort levels. When it was time to call it a day, a good portion of the team opted to take the long trek back to the tent village. A little late, I decided to walk back,  as well, but had some difficulty because I could not see the group that had left ahead of me, and to add insult to injury, I was raising a pretty good sized blister between two toes.  The "TING" rumbled up over the knoll behind me and so I took the liberty of riding the final two hundred yards and through the gate at the camp.  We all gathered in the reception tent and enjoyed Kingfisher beers or red or white wine or soft drinks. But the best part was upon our arrival, we were each handed a cool wet washcloth to wipe the grime off our faces and hands. As soon as some of us plunked ourselves down in one of the rattan chairs, we confessed we most likely would still be thee in the morning! Nobody wanted to move from their chose rest spot.  Dinner followed in the dining tent at about six thirty and the many of us sat around the fire pit and shared stories and then went to our tents and discovered a wonderful surprise... While we we eating, the boys from the camp had visited most of our tents (some had already gone to bed) and placed a hot water bottle in each of our beds. What a welcome gift, to be able to snuggle down into a warmed bed and settle in for the night.  Too bad they had not been able to provide this service the night before because that was really the coldest  of the three nights.  Falling asleep to the howls of the hyenas and the jackals as they were successful in their kills and then screamed at their kits when they may have taken too large a piece of the fresh meat. However, to my knowledge none of us poked our heads outside of our tents to take a look. Also, that night, there must have been a wedding taking place in a nearby village, because the singing (and presumably the dancing) continued on at least until one o'clock in the morning.