Trip report: Ndondeni - Our First Roundabout Playpump
I call myself an armchair do-gooder because, like a lot of people I have numerous direct debits going out of my account every month to help somebody here or do something there. I feel a bit hollow. I get nothing in return and never see what I've achieved.
What I love about One Water is it appeals to the masses. You get something. A bottle of water. You buy an everyday product and at the same time you can feel warm inside knowing that you're helping other people get water too. And give kids somewhere to play as well. Can't be bad.
In late 2005, Total UK became the first company to sell One Water nationally funding our first roundabout playpump in the village of Ndondeni, Kwazulu – Natal, South Africa soon afterwards.
I was privileged enough to go out and watch it being built in April this year. Previously, the closest I'd come to the depths of Africa was Animal Kingdom at DisneyWorld. Knowing that I was going out to Africa with some fully fledged adventurers I traded in my Samsonite suitcase for a battered looking holdall. Rubbish for keeping your clothes in one piece, but it looked the part. I resisted the Indiana Jones hat though.
After the usual awful long-haul flight, Duncan, Kelly, Simon and myself arrived in Johannesburg early in the morning. Following a quick freshen-up at our hotel we headed out with a guide to tour the city. Cruising past giant gold dumps, you were constantly reminded of how the Johannesburg had made its money. Each rise in the landscape produced an amazing sight, either of multi-million dollar homes wrestling for the best view or corrugated iron shanty towns shimmering in the ever present sun. First world meets third world.
Our destination was one of these shanty towns - Soweto. After reading so much about the township I was a little apprehensive as we entered it. What I found was quite surprising.
Instead of tins shacks, there were tidy little brick houses. Instead of guns on every corner, there were markets and hairdressers. Instead of marauding gangs of youths, there were happy, playing children. Instead of anarchy, there was a community.
We visited Nelson Mandela's house, The Hector Pieterson Museum (the little boy who was the first victim of the Soweto uprising), followed by a visit to a shebeen (a local drinking establishment) where we sampled some traditional ale with some of the regulars while we watched their football team thrash a team from Senegal. The company was great, the ale was not. After a wonderful meal and a few too many drinks I went to bed tired, but excited about the next day.
The flight from Johannesburg to Durban took about an hour and as we swept down from the sky I could tell we'd brought the British weather with us. Shortly after picking up our mammoth 4x4, the pregnant clouds finally burst open. The 3 hour journey into the Drakensberg Mountains to Bulwer was a soggy one. We arrived just as it was getting dark. It was cold and wet. More Scotland than Africa.
Bulwer's Mountain Park Holiday Resort Hotel was built in 1940 and I don't think it has been re-decorated since, but it was clean, the food was good and the bar was fully stocked. This would be our base for the next 3 days and was located about 45 km's from Ndondeni.
We met up with Trevor that night. Trevor is the founder of Roundabout Outdoor and had previously had the vision of roundabout playpumps and since making it reality has built over 850 of them throughout Africa, transforming the lives of millions of Africans.
After some fascinating tales around the fire that evening, we all retired to our beds with the sound of rain drumming on our windows. Pulling back the curtains the next morning I was greeted with blazing sun. This was Africa!
We set off, bumping along rutted dirt tracks. Trevor had rough directions, but as no maps existed of the area I expected a long journey full of scratching heads and 3 point turns. We got lost a couple of times, but it didn't matter. The countryside was stunning. Instead of the flat, dry, dusty plains I was expecting, the landscape was green and mountainous, each summit view more impressive than the last.
On the journey Trevor explained the difficulties of providing these remote communities with electricity and water. Their remoteness meaning they really have to fend for themselves.
We finally reached the location of our roundabout playpump. Situated on the side of a hill dwarfed by a craggy mountainous peak laid the sprawling village of Ndondeni.
We met the installation team who were busy preparing the site for the arrival of the kit to build the playpump. The borehole was drilled and they were ready to start. Only one problem, the truck with the equipment on had come off the road during the storms of the day before and was now stranded in a ditch several km's away. Whilst the install team were working out how to get the equipment to the site we headed down to the local newly built community library.
The library was full of books in English, published in places like Basingstoke and Peterborough. The books felt really out of place, but as the women and children explained via our interpreter, English language was their children's ticket to a good education and a "better" life.
We explained why we were there and were greeted with excited faces. So we could fully understand the current situation we volunteered to fill up one of the villager's 25 litre water drums from the stream deep in the valley.
This was going to be hot work, so I glugged down my bottle of water and looked for a bin. As there seems to be a distinct lack of bins in remote Africa I left my empty bottle on a table in the library. Heading down the well-trampled path to the stream I noticed a small girl carrying my now full water bottle. What appeared to be orangeade turned out to be contaminated water from a roof drain off. It broke my heart seeing the little girl drinking it.
The problem being there is little choice and little education. Many of the hand pumps and roof drain off's contain water that is riddled with potentially lethal viruses and with the streams a long, hot walk away, people take the easier option.
After some time we reached our destination. A small gash in the rock where the underground stream emerges for a moment before plunging back into the depths of the mountain. We filled the 25 litre drum and I attempted to put it on my head as Simon and I vowed we would get it and ourselves back to the village in one piece.
I'm more used to picking up pens than 25 litre drums and failed miserably to lift it further than my chest. One of the locals stepped in, and with the dexterity of a world class weightlifter threw it onto her head. I applauded embarrassed. Out macho'd by a frail looking 66 year old lady!
Spurred on and with the help of Simon I stuttered off with the drum wobbling precariously on my head, much to the amusement of the gaggle of local women and children that had joined us. Between Simon and myself and looking like drunken Pied Pipers we struggled up the steep hill leading our merry bunch of women and children back to the village. That's when it struck us. It's women and children that have to do this backbreaking journey every day just to provide the most basic of needs.
Once we arrived back we were beckoned into the home of the owner of the water drum. The thatched circular mud hut was incredibly dark and smoky inside. In the centre of the room was a bubbling pot perched on a roaring fire. Surrounding the fire sat many women on the hard mud floor. The contrast from the bright sun and clean air outside the hut was overwhelming. As we sat blinking our eyes trying to focus on the dark, smoky interior, our hosts explained to us that this single room was their home. They slept on simple mats on the floor and cooked on the open fire. No arguing about what's on television tonight in this household.
By the time we had arrived back at the site, the equipment had turned up and the team were busy assembling the pipe that would bring the water up from over 30 metres below the surface. As we watched the disciplined crew at work groups of children trickled past us straining to see what was going on. We realised that the roundabout playpump was on the route many children took on their way to and from school. I'd brought hundreds of brightly coloured bubble pens from the UK, which we proceeded to hand out to the eager children. It was great something so small could bring so much joy. I became the pen man.
With the sun casting ever lengthening shadows over the village, we headed off for the evening waving to the locals as we bounced down the dirt tracks. As usual, everybody smiled and waved back, some proudly clutching their new pens.
When we arrived the next day the installation team were in the middle of erecting the tower, setting up the roundabout, tap and drainage. As it was going to be a hectic day for the team, we decided to get out of their way and head off to the local school. Once there, we explained to the headmaster what we were doing. Whilst we were shown around the school housing over 700 pupils we asked the headmaster what he needed. His answer was simple. "Everything" he replied. If all goes well, this will be our next location for a roundabout playpump.
When we arrived back at the site, all parts of the installation were heading for completion. The tap was in place with its concrete drain drying in the late sun. The water tank was nestled on top of the tower with the advertising panels protecting it from direct sunlight and the roundabout was built and working with one of the team levelling off the concrete base. Prompted by Trevor, we all wrote our names in the wet concrete.
Before leaving for the evening, the local children were told not to touch the roundabout as the concrete was still drying. As we set off through the groups of smiling, waving villagers I expected that when we arrived in the morning we would discover footprints and more names scrawled in the concrete.
When we arrived early the next day for the photos I was surprised to find no blemishes by the roundabout. However, by the tap, 2 words had been carefully etched into the concrete. The words read "100% Good".
These words sum up everything that is positive about this project to bring free, clean water to communities in Africa. As we sat watching happy, smiling children playing on the roundabout providing safe water for their community I felt very proud at what we'd achieved.
We did good – 100% good.
Ian Mackie
Category Manager
Total Oil UK Limited
Posted at 12:00AM Jan 10, 2008 by Nikki in Trip Reports | Comments[0]