Water Conservation in the Savanna

While a Peace Corps volunteer in Zaire, now the Democratic Republic of the Congo, I had the opportunity to travel widely. I learned to appreciate the geographical, political, and cultural contrasts in that huge nation, the third largest on the African continent.

Although the Congo is known for rainforest in the center "basin," the north, east, and, especially south, has large stretches of scrub land and savanna, where water is scarce. In such a landscape the villages are few and far between. Here, the people are linked to the nearest permanent water, which might be a sweaty, hot, one-hour trek. In these places, bathing and washing clothes was done at the "source" while drinking and cooking water had to be hauled back to the huts. Water was transported in pots, pails, pans, and gourds, carried on women's (and girl's) heads. .

Water was so precious that I once stopped to take a picture of an ingenious method used for a thatched roof in the southern Bandundu region of the Congo. The thirsty people had fashioned a sort of gutter with split giant bamboo. A leaf spout connected it to a gourd. One also notices the use of bamboo and grass instead of the wood and clay from the wet regions to the north.

Photo by D. Messinger

Trees Against a Yellow Sky

I spent fourteen years in Africa, longer than any other place I have lived in. Although I have been gone for ten years, I have pangs of homesickness, when I look at my old photographs. In the shot above, the eroded path on the red clay road was leading out of the village called Omendjadi. The "town" was Lodja, which was about 35 miles away, or four hours by vehicle. The high, arching trees were remnants of a cut-down forest.

We were all volunteer teachers, in the local agricultural high school. Two of us were with the Peace Corps, which supplied training and support to their volunteers. European countries also had a similar type of service, where young people could volunteer in lieu of the compulsory military service. The two men on the trail were French and Belgian volunteers.

We were scouting for a big termite mound on that weekend day. We had a great interest in the natural world, and particularly, insects. Life was simple, and, without any contact with the outside world, we amused ourselves with walks.

Photo by D. Messinger

School's in Session!

This was one of the classrooms at the Omendjadi High School were I taught in 1984 and 85. During a heavy rainstorm in the wet season, one of the mudbrick walls melted away. As a Peace Corps volunteer, I had gone back for a second year of teaching, only to find that the veterinary nurse section had been eliminated by the state.

I never found out how the school resolved the repair of the classroom because I left Omendjadi to continue as a volunteer on monkeypox research. Knowing the poverty of the region, I suspect that classes were held as usual in the room for a long time until they found a solution.

Photo by D. Messinger

Bamboo and Barrel Running Water

One of the things that I did, while living in the tiny village of Omendjadi as a Peace Corps volunteer, was to fashion a gutter under the eaves to catch rainwater. Metal was not available and my gutter was giant bamboo that I split in half. I lashed it to a framework about five feet off of the ground (there was no way to attach it directly to the roof). Because the falling rainwater was spread out at the point of contact with my gutter, I had four gutter "troughs" laid side by side to catch the majority of the water.

Another bamboo piece carried the water through a hole cut in the metal grate at the kitchen window, to drop into a 55 gallon metal drum inside. I could also prop the bamboo trough up when the barrel was full, to "turn off" the flow of water. During the rainy season, my simple bamboo and barrel system supplied my needs in drinking, cooking, and washing water. In the dry season, it was not so easy.

The Pigs Need Water!

As a Peace Corps volunteer, I taught veterinary classes to future vet technicians and ran the farm owned by the school. We had a "porcherie," or pig farm, and when I was placed in charge, the pigs were dying of neglect. The first problem I faced was that the original cement water troughs were cracked and broken. The poor animals suffered greatly because there was no way to give them enough water.

Because students were required to work on the farm as part of their training, I mobilized them to fell trees in the nearby forest, then hack the logs into short pieces. They were drug to the farm, and hollowed out to make crude water troughs. Assuring a supply of water was a basic necessity that seemed rudimentary, but it made a huge difference for the pigs.

School with a Beautiful Name

In 1984, I joined the Peace Corps to teach veterinary nurses in the center of Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo). The name of the town was Omendjadi -- a pretty name for a village of five hundred people. The name was the only thing good about it, because there was no way to get to anywhere from there. There was not one telephone, newspaper, store, restaurant or bar. Also, the postal service was extremely sporadic, due to a government mandate that all mail had to be carried by the national airline. (It was called Air Zaire, but everyone called it Air Peut-Etre, or "Air Maybe")

The rusted roof building in the weedy yard above is the Administration Center of the "Technical Agricultural Institute" where I taught. The school offered agriculture and veterinary nursing as options. Most of the students lived on site and the school farm was managed by a few teachers, in part, to supply the dormitories with food.

Photo by D. Messinger