My Italy

Libya in winter is still so hot except for the northern coastal areas. The sun is scorching on the Libyan desert, creating waves of heat. Although this is the coolest season in the desert, this level of heat still makes people feel uncomfortable.

John Robinson poured some water, wet the towel and wiped his somewhat heated body. He has been in Libya for almost three years, and he is tired of seeing all the sand. But that’s how work is, you can’t choose based on your own preferences.

"Mr. Robinson, we have drilled to a depth of thirty meters today, and we are running out of fuel."

Assistant Garcia was reporting to him at this time.

"Thank you guys for me. Today's mission has been completed. Let's continue fighting tomorrow. I hope it won't end up in underground water this time. Let the guys use the fuel carefully. There is no news about the next transportation team. I don't know when it will be delivered. Come on, save some for me."

The deputy couldn't answer Robinson's words because they had drilled nearly 30 wells and 14 wells in the past three years.

Although it is a joy to drill underground water in the desert, they are not a drilling team drilling water wells, but a team drilling for oil.

After not being able to find the black liquid they wanted for such a long time, even Robinson, who is known for his experience, had some doubts about whether the Italian oil company had received false information to let them eat sand in the vast desert of Libya.

But what does this have to do with him? As a professional driller hired by the Italian Petroleum Company, he only needs to pay himself on time, so he can continue to do this job. As for the bonus of nearly $40,000 for each well drilled by the oil company, Robinson was looking forward to it in his first year here, but now, only God knows who will get the money.

Now I get a monthly salary of 300 US dollars from the Italian Petroleum Company. What's not good about it is that it is much better than at home.

"Garcia, Christmas is tomorrow, if you have any good stuff, please share it with me."

Upon hearing this, Garcia, who knew the virtues of his captain, immediately asked. "Mr. Robinson, have you finished your drink again?"

Facing the deputy's inquiry, Robinson answered without any embarrassment. "I can't help it. It's full of sand as far as the eye can see. Without a little alcohol stimulation, I would go crazy, so the wine will be consumed a bit quickly."

Faced with Robinson's fallacies, Garcia, who had been with him for many years, was not used to his captain.

"Here, this is my last bottle. After drinking it, I can only count on the supply team."

Taking the bottle of wine, Robinson took a deep breath, as if he could smell the aroma of the wine.

"Thank you Garcia, you are an excellent deputy. It's long past time to lead your own drilling team. That way at least you can get more from the company every month."

"Captain, let's forget it. I know my own abilities. The last time I encountered a blowout, it was you who solved the problem."

Since Garcia himself thinks that his ability is not enough, what else can he say?

"Since you don't want to, then stay with me for another two years. Sooner or later you will lead an exploration team by yourself."

While the two were communicating, a worker hurried over.

"The supply team is coming."

The worker's words immediately made the camp lively, and all the people who were not on duty gathered.

After a while, they saw a long camel caravan appearing in front of them. The leader was an old acquaintance whom I had met many times, the Berber Hacan Diaz.

There are currently only over 50,000 Berbers in Libya. They are widely distributed in desert oases and usually focus on grazing and doing business. It is precisely because these Berbers live in a harsh desert environment and have a relatively gentle temperament that the Italian government retained them and did not pack them away like the Arabs.

Of course, when Italy needs to do something in the desert, these Berbers are hired as guides or to transport supplies.

As for Robinson and his drilling team, they receive supplies from the supply team once a month. After all, they are deep in the desert, more than 300 kilometers away from the nearest city, Benghazi.

"Hahaha, my old friend, long time no see."

After seeing the supply team, Robinson greeted them enthusiastically.

Facing the oncoming Robinson, Diaz, who was leading the team, immediately opened his arms. "I miss you too, my old friend."

Robinson asked immediately after the two briefly hugged. "It will go well this time."

"It wasn't all that smooth. We encountered a strong sandstorm on the way and we lost a camel and the cargo it was carrying."

Upon hearing the news, Robinson immediately asked alertly. "Isn't this lost cargo meant to be brought to me?"

"Yes, the 60 bottles of wine you asked me to bring are all on the back of that lost camel."

Diaz's words shocked Robinson.

"Old friend, I was just joking. I brought your wine."

"Old friend, this joke is not funny. You almost scared me to death."

"Old friend, I apologize to you. I didn't know you couldn't stand this joke. I invite you to taste our wine."

"Very happy to."

The two people went to taste the wine without delaying the unloading of the transport team. With the help of the camp people, the goods were unloaded very quickly. As a qualified deputy, Garcia will register each item of goods brought, and then classify and store them according to type.

After everyone has unloaded the goods, a bonfire party is also essential. Everyone sits together, sings and dances, and drinks sweet wine. This is also the most lively time in the camp. Everyone seems to have forgotten their worries and just cheers for this moment of happiness.

As for the two old friends Robinson and Diaz, they also sang songs together around the campfire, but judging from their red cheeks and uncontrollable movements, it was inevitable that they had drunk too much.

The happy time is always short-lived. When the sun rises the next day, the transport team is ready to set off again. Of course, before departure, team leader Diaz collected many letters as ordered. These were letters written by the drilling team to their families. Diaz was responsible for bringing or collecting their letters every time they came back and forth.

After the camel team left, Robinson clapped his hands and shouted. "Okay, let's continue working after enough rest. Try to drill to a depth of 2,800 meters within a week. Let's see if there are any treasures waiting for us to discover below."

At Garcia's greeting, a new day of drilling work began.