La Source

After hours of seriously uncomfortable cross-country travel over a generally trackless waste in a truck with deflated tires, after endless discussions about where we are going and whether we will find it at all since we started too late and the sun has already set, after even a few rants about the lack of preparation by some and their lack of respect for the desert and the ease with which it can seriously ruin your day, we arrive finally at “La Source”.

La Source

60 years ago the French drilled for oil here, but found only water: scalding water at 60 degrees Celsius under tremendous pressure. The water has been flowing into the sand ever since, well known to the shepards and the animals and the citizens of Guerrera, but distant and difficult to access; our campsite for the next few days.

La Source

The miracle of finding flowing hot water (Life!) out in the middle of nowhere did not diminish the fact that this place is not pretty. The font itself is concrete and cast iron and rusty steel barrels. The sand is covered in dried sheep and camel dung.

Trash

The remains of campfires lie everywhere, and draped from the scattered thorny bushes blow purple and black and blue plastic grocery bags left to the wind. Toilet paper is everywhere. I had found finally a project with which to thank everyone for their endless hospitality and overwhelming generosity. I was going to clean this place up.
And I did, at least a good portion of it. The next day, while everyone was off looking for a very expensive radio that had been accidentally left out in the desert as we fumbled our way to our destination, I grabbed some plastic bags and spent 5 hours picking up every piece of plastic or rubber or paper I could find. I couldn’t bring myself to pick up toilet paper, so I buried that where I found it. By the time the crew got back without the radio, I had cleaned up 180 degrees of desert surrounding the well.

Wolf shaving at La Source

I saw new plastic bags in the bushes as we left 5 days later, so I won’t pretend to have precipitated a dramatic cultural shift. One night when one of the crew carelessly dumped some trash in the sand, however, I heard some gentle admonishment for his disregard of my efforts. Most of all I just felt relief that finally, after so many weeks from so many people of endless gifts and favors and acts of kindness, I could reciprocate in a small way to say “thank you”.

La Source

Guerara, Algeria