Field Day at Antofagasta
On Sunday afternoon, during our trip to Antofagasta, after having drilled two wells, Don David took us out for a field trip. Don David was the young'un of the water club, around 30 years old. Being the ablest and most outgoing, Don Teofilo picked him to be the well-drilling expert of the club, a sort of point man who could be responsible for knowing exactly what to do and who could teach other water clubs how to drill.
Don David took us to a nearby river, or what the dry season had left of it. It was not so much a river as it was a series of ponds. We loaded all of our drill pipe and casing for the next well onto his tractor and dropped it off at his place, at a nearby community. Then we drove to the river.
His son, his younger brother and his younger brother's friend went with us. And they fished the ponds with nets and caught about 12 fish in all. We grilled them for lunch and afterwards lounged about and climbed nearby trees. Dona Amalia climbed with us, and Sergio found a pearl in a river conch. Productive post-lunch activities all in all.
Don David's brother and the friend went to another pond down river (or it could have been up river; it wasn't flowing so I'm not sure) to fish. They had been gone for a long while, so Sergio, Jeremy, Don David's son and I set out to find them. We walked along the banks dodging vines and mud pits and such, and on the banks we spotted some baby aligators. I ran up around the bank to chase the alligators back down, and Don David, who came up behind us, caught the baby alligator. We played with it and took pictures of it and then released it to the nearest pond.
We finally found Don David's brother and his friend. They had caught about 30 more fish, two of them piranahs, one of which had bit the friend on the finger and left a chunk of flesh hanging. Yet he didn't say a word; he didn't even wince. Apparently that sort of thing happened to him quite often when fishing. He had a band-aid on from a fish bite he received the day before.
On Monday, we left for home, San Julian, all of us except for Allan and Don Teofilo. Don Teofilo wanted to stay for one more well to make sure that the club knew what it was doing, and Allan wanted see what it was like to be out on his own with a water club. They plan to return Wednesday.
We left on a micro, the public transport. There was barely even standing room before we got on, nevermind after. This bus also broke down. Fortunately, the driver stopped and repaired the leaking fuel line before the vehicle exploded into flames, and we made it to Montero, a large city in northern Bolivia. From there we hired taxis to take us to Santa Cruz, where we droppped off Matt McGee who wanted to take his day off, Tuesday, in the city with his friends from the International Mission Board's ESL classes.
The rest of us ate lunch in Santa Cruz at a Chinese chicken restaurant that had two large screens showing a martial arts action movie. The restaurant offered four types of fried chicken: economic chicken, a quarter chicken, a half chicken, and an entire chicken. We chose the economic chicken.
Now we're back in San Julian, with another well to drill, one we began last Monday, before we left for Antofagasta.
Don David took us to a nearby river, or what the dry season had left of it. It was not so much a river as it was a series of ponds. We loaded all of our drill pipe and casing for the next well onto his tractor and dropped it off at his place, at a nearby community. Then we drove to the river.
His son, his younger brother and his younger brother's friend went with us. And they fished the ponds with nets and caught about 12 fish in all. We grilled them for lunch and afterwards lounged about and climbed nearby trees. Dona Amalia climbed with us, and Sergio found a pearl in a river conch. Productive post-lunch activities all in all.
Don David's brother and the friend went to another pond down river (or it could have been up river; it wasn't flowing so I'm not sure) to fish. They had been gone for a long while, so Sergio, Jeremy, Don David's son and I set out to find them. We walked along the banks dodging vines and mud pits and such, and on the banks we spotted some baby aligators. I ran up around the bank to chase the alligators back down, and Don David, who came up behind us, caught the baby alligator. We played with it and took pictures of it and then released it to the nearest pond.
We finally found Don David's brother and his friend. They had caught about 30 more fish, two of them piranahs, one of which had bit the friend on the finger and left a chunk of flesh hanging. Yet he didn't say a word; he didn't even wince. Apparently that sort of thing happened to him quite often when fishing. He had a band-aid on from a fish bite he received the day before.
On Monday, we left for home, San Julian, all of us except for Allan and Don Teofilo. Don Teofilo wanted to stay for one more well to make sure that the club knew what it was doing, and Allan wanted see what it was like to be out on his own with a water club. They plan to return Wednesday.
We left on a micro, the public transport. There was barely even standing room before we got on, nevermind after. This bus also broke down. Fortunately, the driver stopped and repaired the leaking fuel line before the vehicle exploded into flames, and we made it to Montero, a large city in northern Bolivia. From there we hired taxis to take us to Santa Cruz, where we droppped off Matt McGee who wanted to take his day off, Tuesday, in the city with his friends from the International Mission Board's ESL classes.
The rest of us ate lunch in Santa Cruz at a Chinese chicken restaurant that had two large screens showing a martial arts action movie. The restaurant offered four types of fried chicken: economic chicken, a quarter chicken, a half chicken, and an entire chicken. We chose the economic chicken.
Now we're back in San Julian, with another well to drill, one we began last Monday, before we left for Antofagasta.
posted by El Peregrino at
8:15 PM
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