ORAC
17th Apr 2003, 22:24
Sewage Diver (http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/nation/la-fg-sewer17apr17,1,7658844.story)
MEXICO CITY -- The rainy season is fast approaching, when downpours will swamp this region's rickety drainage system. The only thing standing between 20 million residents and streets filled with raw sewage may be Julio Cesar Cu.
Cu is a professional diver, but his domain is neither the rolling Pacific nor the glittering Caribbean. He is part of a small team of divers who submerge themselves deep into the bowels of Mexico's City's sewer system to perform some of the filthiest, most frightening plumbing chores imaginable...Floating in a sea of human waste and industrial chemicals, he and three compatriots unplug pipes, repair pumps and pull the occasional cadaver from canals to keep the aguas negras, or black waters, flowing. As if the job weren't difficult enough, they do it completely by feel, groping in liquid so murky that flashlights are useless.........
It starts with a bright red "dry suit," a one-piece, synthetic-rubber garment complete with boots. Waterproof gloves come next, lashed firmly to the wrists with plenty of duct tape. A rubbery turtleneck is pulled over the throat to keep sewage from trickling under the collar. It also serves as a cushion for a steel-titanium alloy helmet that encases the head and locks snugly around the neck like a lid on a Mason jar. The divers carry no tanks on their backs. Instead, a breathing hose connects them to an air supply on the surface. A two-way radio inside the helmet allows the submerged divers to communicate with co-workers up top. Once they resurface, they use gallons of chemical disinfectant to sanitize their bodies and equipment on the spot.
The current four-man team has had no injuries beyond a few cuts and eye infections. The work is physically demanding. Yet the divers say the biggest hurdles are psychological -- accepting that they are literally swimming in the scatological dregs of society. "Water is water," said Cu's partner, Carlos Barrios, 47, tapping an index finger on his temple. "The problems are up here in your head."
He and the other divers know the inner workings of Mexico City's 6,000-mile labyrinth of pipes and canals more intimately than the engineers who created it. Unable to see in the brackish water, they have memorized the design of pumps, motors, drains and other equipment so they can repair them by feel. They also remove garbage. Lots of it. Plastic bottles are the most common culprit slowing the sewage flow. But the divers have encountered all manner of junk, including mattresses, furniture, water tanks, trees, even half a Volkswagen that had to be cut up and lifted out in sections.
Despite rumors of alligators and sea monsters lurking in the city's entrails, the divers swear they have never encountered another living thing. They have, however, run across plenty of dead ones: dogs, cats, birds, goats, pigs, sheep and cows among them. That grim list extends to human beings. Cu estimates his team has recovered more than a dozen bodies for police in recent decades, mostly accident or homicide victims. The most agonizing rescue mission came 10 years ago, when Cu and his fellow divers had to retrieve the corpse of their partner, Jose Luis Silva. The most experienced member of the dive team at the time, Silva was killed after he dislodged a tire that was blocking a floodgate west of the city. Like a stopper removed from a bathtub, the sudden suction of the free-flowing water pulled Silva through a small opening in the dam. His co-workers found his battered body more than a mile downstream.
Cu's wife and parents begged him to leave the sewers after the tragedy. The municipal job pays $300 a month, much less than he could make as a commercial diver. Few people even know their work exists. Those who do are more likely to react with jokes or disgust than appreciation.
Still, Cu didn't leave the job, if for no other reason that that he likes it. "It gives me a lot of personal satisfaction," Cu said. "This work really helps people."
MEXICO CITY -- The rainy season is fast approaching, when downpours will swamp this region's rickety drainage system. The only thing standing between 20 million residents and streets filled with raw sewage may be Julio Cesar Cu.
Cu is a professional diver, but his domain is neither the rolling Pacific nor the glittering Caribbean. He is part of a small team of divers who submerge themselves deep into the bowels of Mexico's City's sewer system to perform some of the filthiest, most frightening plumbing chores imaginable...Floating in a sea of human waste and industrial chemicals, he and three compatriots unplug pipes, repair pumps and pull the occasional cadaver from canals to keep the aguas negras, or black waters, flowing. As if the job weren't difficult enough, they do it completely by feel, groping in liquid so murky that flashlights are useless.........
It starts with a bright red "dry suit," a one-piece, synthetic-rubber garment complete with boots. Waterproof gloves come next, lashed firmly to the wrists with plenty of duct tape. A rubbery turtleneck is pulled over the throat to keep sewage from trickling under the collar. It also serves as a cushion for a steel-titanium alloy helmet that encases the head and locks snugly around the neck like a lid on a Mason jar. The divers carry no tanks on their backs. Instead, a breathing hose connects them to an air supply on the surface. A two-way radio inside the helmet allows the submerged divers to communicate with co-workers up top. Once they resurface, they use gallons of chemical disinfectant to sanitize their bodies and equipment on the spot.
The current four-man team has had no injuries beyond a few cuts and eye infections. The work is physically demanding. Yet the divers say the biggest hurdles are psychological -- accepting that they are literally swimming in the scatological dregs of society. "Water is water," said Cu's partner, Carlos Barrios, 47, tapping an index finger on his temple. "The problems are up here in your head."
He and the other divers know the inner workings of Mexico City's 6,000-mile labyrinth of pipes and canals more intimately than the engineers who created it. Unable to see in the brackish water, they have memorized the design of pumps, motors, drains and other equipment so they can repair them by feel. They also remove garbage. Lots of it. Plastic bottles are the most common culprit slowing the sewage flow. But the divers have encountered all manner of junk, including mattresses, furniture, water tanks, trees, even half a Volkswagen that had to be cut up and lifted out in sections.
Despite rumors of alligators and sea monsters lurking in the city's entrails, the divers swear they have never encountered another living thing. They have, however, run across plenty of dead ones: dogs, cats, birds, goats, pigs, sheep and cows among them. That grim list extends to human beings. Cu estimates his team has recovered more than a dozen bodies for police in recent decades, mostly accident or homicide victims. The most agonizing rescue mission came 10 years ago, when Cu and his fellow divers had to retrieve the corpse of their partner, Jose Luis Silva. The most experienced member of the dive team at the time, Silva was killed after he dislodged a tire that was blocking a floodgate west of the city. Like a stopper removed from a bathtub, the sudden suction of the free-flowing water pulled Silva through a small opening in the dam. His co-workers found his battered body more than a mile downstream.
Cu's wife and parents begged him to leave the sewers after the tragedy. The municipal job pays $300 a month, much less than he could make as a commercial diver. Few people even know their work exists. Those who do are more likely to react with jokes or disgust than appreciation.
Still, Cu didn't leave the job, if for no other reason that that he likes it. "It gives me a lot of personal satisfaction," Cu said. "This work really helps people."
