I would write about my experience on water issue of two different places where I stayed in a span of one month. I was selected as an ICICI Fellow designate which is a rural leadership fellowship programs for the citizens of India. During the initial training period of one month I visited one village in Pune district of Maharastra state of India named Bhambarde. This is the place which records the maximum rainfall in the state. Situated at the one of the most beautiful and serene environments at the hill-top, the village just looks at the pouring water flow down-hill and hence goes water scarce in the non-rainy time of the year. (more…)
I was preparing for a regular inspection visit to the community of Las Flores, municipality of Chinacla in the department of La Paz, Honduras.
The inspection took place in mid-May 2010 with Mr. Ely Nicholas from Marcala, La Paz, who since April 2010 is supervising construction of a new water system in this small village, 80 kilometres north of the capital Tegucigalpa.
There were two main points of discussion: the location of the storage tank, and the possible construction of a new small dam in addition to the one which was budgeted for, so that it could provide the desired amount of water.
After several hours of travel we arrived at the community and contacted the president of the water board, Mr Jose Lopez, who guided us through the community to the prospective location for the storage tank. This is where we encountered our first problem.
We looked at the design and found that the outside designer had situated the tank in the middle of the street, where it would block traffic. Big mistake! We analysed a new location and marked it. Although the first problem was solved, we did not know what was still waiting us.
There is not avoiding the mighty “Ameqrane” River as we set out from the village of Boudinar towards the village of Boumaad and later on that of “Tiza”. Scattered tree limbs, water rivulets flowing soundlessly, and murky puddles of stagnant water wallow in far corners, like desperate liquid pools bowing shyly before the majesty of the great river.
On the left bank, a strip of water stubbornly forges its way into the great river, like a snake slithering purposefully towards a well known destination, laden with water as if fed by a clear source in the upper reaches of the mountain, meandering and gushing with such force that no finality seems possible other than embracing the folds of the Mediterranean sea.