I have been solarizing for over 2 months now, have travelled the lengths and breadths of the country, incredible India as it is called. The one common strain I hear across is
"Is it viable ?" said the farmers in Odisha and then in the North Eastern state of Darjeeling.
"Seems uncanny." I began to wonder if I was the only one who saw otherwise.
"See that pump, it uses solar energy, hasn't worked for over 2 years now." said Kishan, a rich farmer in Odisha.
He sounded despondent, like his dream had gone bad, "It worked for 6 months and now it hasn't for over 2 years."
"Kishan Ji, this thing works and I have seen it work for years and years." I pleaded
with him.
"Toh kya karen hum ab." he sounded equally ill at ease with the topic.
I immediately backed out, I wasn't here to pass on advice, but to solve problems. Raju was with me, he immediately pointed to the piping, it dilated up and down, there were NRVs installed everywhere near the system.
"Sir, ismey, shayad pani atack raha hai." he said, and I was sure he was right, the water was getting stuck somewhere, increasing the pressure on the pump which failed often now. Raju was always right, a hard working man with an incredible practical knowledge about plumbing. He had started his career in a carton manufacturing firm in Dubai, and worked there for 6 years, during which time he had also picked up plumbing as a part time hobby. I had always admired people who took up part time hobbies while they worked full time. The landscape in Odisha was stark, so stark, that one could admire the greenery whenever it appeared. This was a poor state, I could see from the Naxal activity around the parts we were in. An occasional encounter with an armed villager was not unusual here. I stood up on a mumpty created over the pump and looked far and deep into the country side. There were the usual well marked paddy fields with boroughs marked for water. Most of the fields were watered, in the far distance I saw the outline of the hotel we were staying in, Bhubhneshwar was a bustling town and I could almost hear the honks of angry cabby's and autowallas as they tried to get around the rickshaws. The hotel bellboy had forewarned me about overcharging and I had made sure that I took the public transport, which comprised of rickshaws and dilapidated buses into the rural landscape adjoining Bhubhneshwar.
Raju was walking towards a particular water diver tor, and I quickly walked behind him. He turned the NRV off by turning the handle anti clockwise, and then examined the diver tor, Kishan ji was hovering right over our shoulder. Using a spanner he opened up the smallish piece of equipment, it was used to divert water depending on the requirement, to a particular pipe or the other. We both examined the equipment and found it to be defective, too much mud in the water probably, Raju quickly cleaned it up and installed it back to the satisfaction of Kishan Ji. He moved the NRV back in position. This had to be done for ever diver tor in the circuit and even the timer valve that was installed next to the pump. Took the whole day, identifying all the diver tors and cleaning them up. I had in the meanwhile climbed up the panel installation to clean the electrical, the wiring was intact and yet had to be pruned and refitted into new crimps. I wiped the sweat off my brow and I finished wiping the dust off the 5 KW solar pump installation. The panels sparkled and water was gushing through like a glacier had melted on the mountains. The sound was blissful to both me and Raju.
Touche, its all in the days work.
"Is it viable ?" said the farmers in Odisha and then in the North Eastern state of Darjeeling.
"Seems uncanny." I began to wonder if I was the only one who saw otherwise.
"See that pump, it uses solar energy, hasn't worked for over 2 years now." said Kishan, a rich farmer in Odisha.
He sounded despondent, like his dream had gone bad, "It worked for 6 months and now it hasn't for over 2 years."
"Kishan Ji, this thing works and I have seen it work for years and years." I pleaded
with him."Toh kya karen hum ab." he sounded equally ill at ease with the topic.
I immediately backed out, I wasn't here to pass on advice, but to solve problems. Raju was with me, he immediately pointed to the piping, it dilated up and down, there were NRVs installed everywhere near the system.
"Sir, ismey, shayad pani atack raha hai." he said, and I was sure he was right, the water was getting stuck somewhere, increasing the pressure on the pump which failed often now. Raju was always right, a hard working man with an incredible practical knowledge about plumbing. He had started his career in a carton manufacturing firm in Dubai, and worked there for 6 years, during which time he had also picked up plumbing as a part time hobby. I had always admired people who took up part time hobbies while they worked full time. The landscape in Odisha was stark, so stark, that one could admire the greenery whenever it appeared. This was a poor state, I could see from the Naxal activity around the parts we were in. An occasional encounter with an armed villager was not unusual here. I stood up on a mumpty created over the pump and looked far and deep into the country side. There were the usual well marked paddy fields with boroughs marked for water. Most of the fields were watered, in the far distance I saw the outline of the hotel we were staying in, Bhubhneshwar was a bustling town and I could almost hear the honks of angry cabby's and autowallas as they tried to get around the rickshaws. The hotel bellboy had forewarned me about overcharging and I had made sure that I took the public transport, which comprised of rickshaws and dilapidated buses into the rural landscape adjoining Bhubhneshwar.
Touche, its all in the days work.
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