In torrential rain, five of us arrive by car in a small village
in Madhya Pradesh - a large state in central India. The sun has just set, small
incandescent lamps and kerosene lanterns were lighting up. The cattle return home while children still play in the village square. We have traveled five hours to
get here and will be walking the last mile through ploughed fields - a vast
expanse of black cotton soil (sticky and clay like); very soon our feet will weigh
a ton with the clinging soil. We buy rubber soled shoes in preparation for
the walk which will take us at least an hour. It is now pitch dark. We were
hoping to buy flashlights in the village but the one store in the village
square was out of them.
In single file, we set off, taking turns to lead the pack - no
umbrella, no raincoats or ponchos - lashing rain, biting rain, we are drenched to the bone. There was no hope of the rain abating for a couple of days. The
only light was the occasional bolt of lightning.We could barely keep our eyes open
- lashing,blinding rain!
Our mission - to rescue our seventeen-ton "bore well" drilling
rig stuck in the soil, a mile away from the road. The bore well was completed
that morning and then the sky opened upturning the soil into clay-like mush. The
monstrous rig mounted on a truck, was stuck in the clay. This rescue was was going to be a long grind.The
truck would be jacked up a few inches off the ground, long wooden
planks laid below the wheels, the jacks brought down. Now it was showtime for the driver - he would rev the engine a few times, like a bull rearing to charge and then shift into gear and floor the accelerator! The truck would move forward about fifty feet before settling down in the clay again!. Each
of these cycles would be about an hour long. Only one mile to go! Only 5000 feet to go!
Every minute that the
rig is not working is lost revenue.
Back to the walk -
about half way through, it is my turn to lead. We can barely walk. The rain is
fierce, the wind worse - eyes burning, face burning. One careful step at a
time, each person holding on to the shirt tail of the person in front of him -
to keep each other safe, to maintain balance. It is pitch dark and in the blinding rain,
navigation is by guesswork only. Dragging feet - which are as heavy as lead
with the clay. Suddenly, without warning, Anwar who is immediately behind me
catches my collar and pulls me back, throwing me to the ground. Anwar is skinny
and about half my body weight. I don’t know where he got the strength but am I
glad he did! In the unrelenting rain, I was a half-step away from walking into
an open well! Anwar saw what I had failed to see - a large well with its mouth
wide open, ready to swallow the less careful. I escaped death. A close call.
Too close. The Great Escape 3. ( Read my earlier posts -The Great Escape 1: Where is Jhumri Tilaiya? The Great Escape 2: The Giant Slide).
( Picture Credit - BBC article on Open
Wells & Lion Deaths in India http://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-india-29009234 )
The mission was
completed three days later, the team of eleven working around the clock . The rain also worked in tandem around the clock, never tiring, never giving up. We took turns at sleeping on the truck hood with the engine
running to keep ourselves warm. One crew member cooked lentil soup and boiled
rice and tea under the truck - that was the only shelter available, that was
the only food available.
Well Well!