DAM PROJECT - February 8, 2010

DAM PROJECT – February 8, 2010

We were all up at about 6:30, re-packed and baggage outside our doors by 7:15 and then down for breakfast. Again, I felt sorry for the bellboy who was assigned the job of schlepping my heavy bags down to mountain (it certainly seemed like one) to the bus. Gavin and I shared a room on the upper level, where access was through a very narrow and steep stairway, with very high and uneven stone steps.. The bags all made it to the bus, were packed, after each of us checked his or her bag to make sure it was loaded, and then we were off to part two of our adventures as the ROTARY DREAM TEAM - INDIA 2010.

We departed our heritage hotel at about 8:00 and over back, winding roads to the village where we would be working for the week. In order to gain some extra time on the site, Sanjiv suggested that not go to the hotel first, but rather that we go directly to the site and begin working as soon as possible. We arrived in the village of Teenchwala and climbed down off the bus. Vanessa and I distributed work gloves to each who wanted them and kept the rest on the bus for spares. Quite a group of locals had gathered inside and outside a tent near the actual dam construction site, awaiting our arrival. I had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Sharma - a tireless supporter and advocate for these dam construction projects. WE were ushered into the tent and invited to sit in the chairs provided. We sat and many of the locals, including the Panchayat (five member elder council) filled in the empty seats. When quiet was finally established. a gentleman who had drive out from Delhi to meet us addressed the group. Each of us was personally welcomed with a tikka (red or orange smear of cumm powder on our foreheads) and a garland of marigolds.

following the remarks of the Sar Panch (the leader of the Panchayat) each male member of the team received the honor of being turbaned by a local gentleman. Our ladies received head scarves from the wives of local members of the Panchayat. We were then offered fresh buttermilk and it was off to walk about one hundred yards to the work site.

Before I forget to mention this - several years ago when I led a team of Rotarians to work on a tsunami relief building project in the area of Cuddalore, near the Indian Ocean, we were inundated with rain each day. It made our work more difficult. However, one morning, when we arrived for work, nobody was working. It had been told to us that the work supervisor realized we had never had a pujya (prayer and blessing ceremony) prior to beginning work. So before we began work that day, back in 2005, we dedicated the construction of the building to the gods and had a very meaningful but simple prayer service. It is something I will never forget. Even as we conducted the service, it was raining. However, within about two minutes of finishing the ceremony, the sun broke through the clouds and it never rained the rest of the time we were working on the project - construction of a building at an orphanage, in cooperation with the India Heritage Research Foundation, headed by His Holiness, Swami Chidanand Saraswati. The reason I raise this point now is that when we exited the food tent, following the welcoming prayer ceremonies, it began to sprinkle rain. Generally, it does not rain at this time of year in this region. On and off during the first work day, it sprinkled. Many of the locals viewed this as an auspicious sign and felt the project was the right one at the right time and would bring about the formation of a reservoir for irrigation of crops in the future.

Already our arrival had caused quite a stir and a stop in the work at the site. Imagine what was in the minds of the laborers at the site, when they saw a group of some thirty-five white Westerners, many of whom are clearly senior citizens, several of whom are a bit on the hefty side (I include myself), approaching the site, each sporting a pair of pristine white work gloves with the bright blue rubberized palms! To intimate they might have looked askance at us would be an understatement. Each of us climbed down to various levels of the site, after having been divided into six different work groups, pairing younger with older, males and females, stronger and not so strong, and experienced (several of the team members had been in India with me in the past and were conversant with local labor practices) and the not so experienced. At projects such as these, construction follows local custom, with little deviation. Masala (concrete mix, both dry and wet) is mixed by the paid local laborers. This mix is then carried to wherever the masons need it. There seemed to be about a half-dozen masons and their tenders working at the different levels of the dam. In the case of the Masala, it was women who were mixing this for us to carry to our new bosses. Great loads of sand and even greater loads of rock - from fist sized to boulders, were dropped along the construction line. In addition, there was a water tank, about one-third the size of what we know as an oil tank truck that delivers heating oil to our homes. This was strategically placed in the area close to where the women were mixing the Masala, so they could add it to their dry mix, in varying consistencies.

I was assigned to work with two of the masons, actually along the face of what will be the downstream side of the dam wall. Each was asking for different sized rocks, which I handed to them and they troweled in some Masala to secure the rock in place and we moved along that section. Evan Kurtz had been working the "hose detail" and after a couple of hours, offered to trade jobs with me. When dry Masala basins were brought to the masons, it was then my responsibility to add sufficient water from the hose descending from the water tank, so the masons could mix everything to the correct consistency. I looked across the area and watched while my fellow teammates were carrying basins of Masala or smaller rocks down the hill to the masons. It was time for me to suggest that we try to work smarter rather than harder.

"If we form a line, with every other person facing opposite one another, and stretch the line down from the Masala ladies to the masons, we could become far more efficient." Several members, who had been carrying basins of the mix down the hill and then walking the empty basin back up for refilling, welcomed the change. The local foremen were not so convinced this was a good idea and told us to continue carrying individual basins down the hill. With a minor test of wills, I urged the team to continue in the Masala line format, and finally the foremen realized we were becoming more productive and with less strain on our bodies. We were also able to split the line so we could serve two sets of masons simultaneously. In the meanwhile, Wally Ochterski, Mark Larson, Jim Wischhusen and one or two others were working on moving the large boulders from the pile up onto the "floor" of the dam. These were set into the surface in a sort of rip-rap manner to provide strength and stability. Elena Sergeeva (who had previously led us to believe that she was shy and retiring) stolidly walked up and down the hill, carrying basins full of Masala and then the empties. Somehow, during this process, Elena emerged from her shell of shyness, and we all could hear her from whatever vantage point we occupied at the moment. A water break was called and one of the boys from the cook tent brought a case or two of bottled water to us for sharing. Although the day was somewhat overcast, the temperature was in the sixties or low seventies, and it was important to stay hydrated.

Back to work for another hour and then lunch break was announced. For the sake of ease and efficiency, Sanjiv had arranged for two cooks from his trekking company to be with us for the whole week, preparing our lunches for us, as well as snacks to accompany tea at the end of the day. This way, each of us could also be confident that the food would be good, healthy, tasty and safe to eat - even the fresh fruits, uncooked vegetables and the salads. Each day a new soup was prepared and each was better than the previous one. We returned to the food tent, where the welcoming ceremony had taken place, and sat to eat our lunch meal. The plan each day was for us to work from about 8:30 until 4:00 with about a half hour for lunch. Following lunch, we returned to work until it was time for tea at the end of the day. The real need was for us to finish at 4:00 and be on the bus to drive to our hotel, no later than 4:30.

Our hotel was located on the other side of an area wildlife sanctuary and preserve, and if we did not want to be forced to travel about three hours each way, every day, we had been able to work out a special arrangement with the park people to allow us to travel through the park in the morning and late afternoon, thereby providing us the maximum work time. This afternoon, since we had driven directly from Kesroli to the work site, we had not even checked into our hotel - Sariska Palace, so we were eager to ride through the wildlife preserve, observing spotted and Sambar deer, peacocks, wild boar, fox and more. Following the main road - riddled with potholes and other obstacles, we made it safely through and on to our hotel. I am sure at the height of the era of the Maharajas, this palace was one of the more spectacular, but had fallen upon hard times in recent years. However, the entrance presented a grand appearance. We disembarked from the bus and ascended the grand staircase onto the portico and then entered the reception hall. There we were greeted by staff offering a welcome drink of fruit juice, while we waited for our room assignments. Gavin and I grabbed our room key and walked down the front steps, around to the right, past the gift shop that we found to be only sporadically attended, through gardens and quadrangles and then turned left down our portico to Room 503. Our unit consisted of a large bedroom with sitting area, a dressing room and a full bath. We unpacked and returned to the main palace building to have our first dinner. Following dinner, we returned to the room, unpacked a bit more and then retired for the night, after a good first day of work on the dam site.

That night, following dinner, as we walked back to our rooms, it began to rain and then we heard loud claps of thunder that we judged were about fifteen kilometers away. All night long, the thunder and lightning served as our percussion, and it seemed as though torrential rains had accompanied those claps of thunder. The next morning, we were told about two tenths of an inch had fallen.