Thursday, October 27, 2011

the water of Life

This scene was one morning in a village in the Dominican Republic 1991, as I began as a Peace Corps volunteer We walk to the well. This is a hand dug well and community property although on a family's grounds. We walk past their home exchanging greetings. There are women, girls, boys and another man here. Two buckets are being cast into the well at a time. The rope is played out as the 3 gallon tins fall 30 feet down, then are hauled up and the water is poured into larger tins and plastic jugs. Two people at a time haul up water,others help distribute the water. I have a hard time keeping track of organization. I expected that this would be an orderly social arrangement of first come, first serve, wait your turn, but there doesn't seem to be much order to it. Ramona walks to the edge and hauls up water, then fills others' tins and jugs, another woman takes her place, our jugs sit waiting. I have the expectation that we'd fill our jugs,then leave, but no. I'm pressed into hauling up water. My rhythm is not smooth, I let the tins down, rest the rope, as I've seen others do, then haul the rope up, bending over, hand over hand, my back stiff, not supple like the women.. My forearms begin ache. I begin to realize that one cannot do the job well by oneself and realize that the organization of labor has to do with sharing, not with who's first. I haul four tins up and then get a break, a boy takes my place, he's a lot better at it than me. As I watch , I'm struck by how this is a social task, people talk as they work, they take turns, helping each woman place large 5 gallon tins,”latas”, on their heads. A shirt or item of clothing is wrapped and twisted into a sash and placed around the crown of the head., the woman bends down, places her two hands on her side of the lata as the other woman grasps the opposite side and lifts the lata while the water bearer positions it on the sash and straightens up beneath the load now balanced on her head as if it were attached somehow. Ramona's body straight, her back strong and true and, her posture perfect. She walks away, a timeless picture.

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