My Reading List

     I signed for a seminar on Public Interest Design in January, so I have some homework to do before then. It's being organized by Bryan Bell who edited the book Good Deeds, Good Design: Community Service through Architecture, and is the founder and executive director of Design Corps. He is also one of the forces behind SEED (Social Economic Environmental Design) certification for buildings. SEED is similar to LEED in it's evaluation of buildings, but it goes further and looks at the social and economic relevance of the project, as well as the environmental aspects.
     On the reading list for the course is his book, Good Deeds, Good Design which is a collection of essays and case studies of projects that look at projects that serve the people who normally can't afford an architect. It's an inspiring book for architects that feel the profession is letting down society by only catering to the upper echelons of society. Also on the reading list by Bell is Expanding Architecture: Design as Activism which expands on his previous book and is a guide for architects who are interested in the same issues that SEED deals with.
     Also on the list is Design Revolution: 100 Products That Empower People by Emily Pilloton who is the founder and Executive Director of Project H Design, a non-profit that provides humanitarian product design services. I haven't read it yet, but I'm curious to see how similar it is to Design for the Other 90% by Cynthia E. Smith, and whether or not the projects overlap.
     Lastly on the list is The Power of Pro Bono edited by John Cary. Here, again, is a compilation of 40 community based projects divided into 6 different categories: Arts, Civic, Community, Health, Education, and Housing.
     I am curious to see how these projects were funded, how involved the community is in the design, and whether or not the community is able to continue to fund the upkeep of the building after the design services go away.
     

Architecture and Health

     On my last day in Bangladesh this past trip, I sat with the director and some of the other higher-ups in the NGO I visited, and we talked about my trip, what I learned and what my ideas for the future of my project were. At that point it wasn't quite clear in my mind where I could take my research further since what I learned wasn't exactly what I expected, and the problems I saw didn't require an architecturally based doctoral thesis to fix.
     They really tried to impress on me that if I wanted to work with them further, that I should keep in mind that they focus on health, economic and family issues, not building construction. I guess I could take my (as yet undefined) building ideas and go elsewhere, but during our conversation, the issues I brought up of what I observed made us both realize that there is a common link that we share: Architecture and Health. How are the conditions of rural housing directly affecting the inhabitants physical and mental health? What can be done to improve their housing conditions in a economically sustainable way?

 Thin leaf walls, the only protection against
the cold,wind, and rain

     During my last two trips to Bangladesh, I only stayed 2 weeks, and at both times, the weather was reasonable. I avoided the monsoon in the summer and the cold weather they have in the winter, and the extreme heat they have in between. So, there was no first hand observation of how villagers lived or what health issues came up during these times. When I asked them how what they did under bad weather situations, they said they used thick jute blankets in winter, stayed inside mostly when it rained, and the heat just seemed to be something they lived with. Only one older woman complained the cold gave her arthritic type symptoms, and when that came up, other women admitted their kids had bad colds as well. But still, it was hard to judge the extent to which people were suffering, especially because no one seemed to complain.

Mold found on the exterior of the foundation

     Most of the villagers had been working with at least one NGO, and thus had access to clean sources of water and latrines. But still, I saw examples of a latrine that was built within two feet of pond, and could potentially contaminate it; leaky roofs; thin walls that couldn't possibly guard against the cold; farm animals and their fecal matter living in the same building as their owners; enclosed smoke-filled cooking areas that could cause eye and lung damage; suspicious green mold on the courtyard floor and exterior walls of houses.
     I'm thinking further study would have to include medical professionals to observe what illnesses arise, and to test if there is a connection between building materials or building conditions and people's health concerns. Are there particulate matters in the air that come from the materials or from smoke inhalation? What serious health concerns are associated with having a cow defecate and urinate in the same living quarters as their owners? How can walls be better insulated in an economically sustainable way, when the level of resources is next to nothing? 
     At this point, I have more questions than answers. But isn't that always the case? At least I feel I'm moving in the right direction.

Lampshades, continued...

     The "lampshade" from last weeks post turned out to be more like a tea light holder, but it a few things can be learned from it:
     The tapioca glue definitely hardened the material (I used layers of sheer polyester material for most of it, with a few lines of thicker cotton material). I thought the two different materials would act to stabilize each other, but when working with them while they were wet, they reacted differently - the polyester tended to cling to the balloon underneath, while the cotton became limp and couldn't hold it's own weight. 
     I had to work upside down to let the glue drip off. I'm thinking the glue was too watery, although the structure held it's shape after drying. The end product was still pretty flexible, could be flattened and then would pop back into shape, and not as brittle as I imagined.
     Since the opening at the top was smaller than that at the bottom, I turned it upside down (had I used a lightbulb I probably would have flipped it). I like the light effect I got from the tea light, but did notice the material started to burn on top, but it did not ignite (not at least during the hour I had the candle burning).
     As for other building uses, I would have to play around more with the consistency of the glue mixture and experiment with other fabric types, to get a more stable product, and would have to work on a larger scale.

Pinatas and Lampshades as Thin-Shelled Structures

        Back to the drawing board. I know my posts seem all over the place in terms of topics, but they seem to make sense in my head. So while I was trying hard to find things to do to avoid working on my proposal, I started making a lampshade. What does a lampshade have to do with ecological building, you ask (besides being a distraction from Ph.D. proposals)? Well, I'll tell you.

     Last week was my daughter's birthday, and since I've moved to Germany, I've had to make my own pinatas for their birthdays. I usually do this with old newspaper and glue made with wheat flour and water. I tried the uncooked method of making the flour paste, but when it dried it was really cakey and peeled off, and left a lot of powder dust on the inside of the form. This time I experimented with tapioca flour (remember good old tapioca flour? I tried to make that by hand a few posts ago). This time I bought the refined tapioca flour at the local Asian store. I got this idea from an NGO that works in Thailand that uses a mixture of tapioca and water to waterproof their houses, also mixing it in with mud as a final coating. I was finally able to reach someone and get information on how exactly they do this, but their instructions were nothing more than to mix the flour with water, a lot of water, but no clear proportions. 
     When I made the pinata, I used the same proportions with the tapioca flour as I use when I make the wheat flour paste. Some of it came out a clear paste, but there were globs of white tapioca that didn't mix the same and made the whole thing look like a bottle of gefilte fish. It was sticky enough, but it was too thick, and even when I added twice as much water, it was still thick. I was able to work with it, and it held enough to do it's job, until of course, the whole thing was destroyed by 10 little kids. 

Sydney Opera House, designed by Jorn Utzon.
One of the more famous examples of thin-shelled
concrete architecture.

     Every time I make a pinata, I start thinking about how similar they are to thin-shelled concrete structures. And I wonder if the "technology" can be transferred to larger structures. They hold up quite well to forces, given their thickness, and are made out of found objects, in this case, old newspapers, flour and water. I often use a balloon to initially form the structure, not applicable to larger spaces, but any kind of framework would do just as well, as long as the layering material were able to span between the parts of the frame. 
     Not having space to build a build a house out of paper mache in my backyard, I started thinking about making other usable objects, that don't necessarily need to be destroyed at the end of a party. So I thought of lamp shades, mostly because my house is constantly blinding me with bare light bulbs due to our lack of them. This time I worked with fabric instead of paper, and tried to make the tapioca based glue liquid enough to paint with. The proportions I used at first were two cups water to one tablespoon tapioca flour, which I heated, mixed to a consistent solution, and cooled before using. (Note to self: hot glue tends to pop balloons, or at the very least change the shape of the balloon while under construction due to the heating and cooling of the air inside of the balloon). This left a thin layer of gooey glop that was thin enough to paint the fabric with and get it to stick to the balloon. But underneath, it seemed too watery. So after the first layer of fabric, I heated up the mixture and added another tablespoon of flour (okay, you got me, I didn't really measure this time, because the first time I ended up getting flour all over the stove - it has the consistency of corn starch and I poured it into the measuring spoon instead of scooping it out). This seemed thick enough for a second coat, or at least I had enough goo to get a second layer on. 
     We'll see what happens when it dries and then we can test it for toughness and how it reacts to heat. I'll keep you posted....

So now what?

You know when you think you have this great idea, and get all pumped up about it, and start working on it, and then right in the middle, you look at what you're doing and you're totally lost? Your main idea seems meaningless. You've lost all direction. You have no idea how to proceed. Well, that's where I am with my thesis proposal.
I had the idea to do something to help better the lives of rural women in Bangladesh. And as an architect, I decided it should have something to do with the built environment. So I went there, and talked to a bunch of women, and looked at their homes, and how they live. And what did I come up with? A lot of problems and not a lot of resources.
Because the women I talked to are working with at least one NGO, if not more, they were all pretty much educated about the health and sanitary issues. Most had access to clean water, and they understood the importance of using it. So if they couldn't afford a tube well for themselves they would seek one out instead of using water from a contaminated pond. Most owned or had access to a latrine, and knew the importance of keeping it clean.
The state of their houses varied from flimsy straw huts to sturdy brick buildings with solid roofs. They had problems with rodents, cold weather, having to rebuild every year after the monsoon, etc. But each family had different problems, or degree of problems, so there's no easy way of finding a cookie cutter solution for them. Each family would have to have a separate solution tailored to their needs. Not something that lends itself to being the subject to a thesis statement.
The one solution that seemed to work for everyone to improve their living condition was having more money. Once a family was able to save money, they were able to build a secure house. But being a mostly agricultural based society, incomes related to crops are not 100% dependable year after year. And for those who don't own any farm land, not all that profitable. 

Brickyard near Tarash, Bangladesh

So I started thinking that if they had some sort of building product that could be made on site, used to improve their homes, and sold to generate income, that would kill two birds with one stone. Right now brick yards are popping up all over the country, burning the forests for fuel, filling the air with smoke, digging up valuable land for the bricks (which are often sold to India), and creates a dangerous work environment for its laborers. There's got to be a more humane and ecological solution.
I heard of a company that makes roof tiles out of concrete, but used jute instead of rebar as reinforcement. Sounds great, only the product wasn't well received due to lack of strength. While I was traveling I saw a billboard for another local cement company that advertised 100% fly ash free cement - the strongest cement available in the country! Only, from what I've researched, using fly ash as an additive not only helps to remove a dangerous substance from the atmosphere by collecting it and putting it to good use, it actually strengthens the cement bond. False advertising at it's best!
But it brings up a very important point - everyone is skeptical of a new product (unless it's the newest release of an Apple iproduct), especially when it comes to the building industry. It takes time for new materials to be accepted. Not something most villagers have. I get the feeling that the ideas that become decent thesis statements aren't necessarily the same ideas that do the most good for the people they are trying to help. So now what?

Maybe they're on to something...

A Bangladeshi "van"

     During one of my field visits, I met a family that was proud to say that one of their sources of income was having a "van" for transporting goods or people for money. They lived in a bamboo hut with woven walls, and I wondered where they got the money for a van. When I looked around the corner, I saw what they meant - it was a three wheeled bicycle outfitted with a wooden platform and raised seats on the sides for people to sit.
     I was struck by how, all over Bangladesh, most of the rikshas were man-powered bicycles, not the Bajaj style motor-driven three wheelers I was used to seeing in India and Nepal, in the 1990's. The pollution caused by these motor-driven rikshas was terrible. The worst I saw was in Kathmandu, where they had inherited the older, more polluting rikshas no longer usable in India.
     The riksha drivers I saw in Bangladesh were all skin and bones and were pulling heavy loads on crowded streets alongside motorcycles, cars, buses, and trucks.  As a passenger, I was terrified. But I had that feeling pretty much no matter what form of transportation I took over there. 

A Bangladeshi "school bus"

      It's no doubt, hard work driving these converted bicycles, more than what I'm used to seeing (or doing) in western countries. But then I thought, maybe the Bangladeshi's are on to something. It's hard work, but it's work. There is less mechanics to break down compared to a motorized vehicle. There is no expense for fuel. The man-powered vehicles are so much cheaper than the motorized kind, which are so pricey, the drivers have to pay to rent them, further cutting in to their already small profits.
     This blog post was originally inspired by a bio-fueled motorcycle developed in Japan by a toilet manufacturer Toto (Toilet Bike Neo), but I guess I got a little off track. This idea that we, as a society, don't need to be confined to using fossil fuels, and the countries that  are able to produce them. I can't imagine that bike powered riksha taxis or school busses are something that work in America - at least not anywhere in America that I've lived. And even the switch to bio-fuels will take a lot of lobbying and discussion. But the ideas are out there, you just need to know where to look.

How do you define ecological building?

Rooftop in Naogoan, Bangladesh, featuring solar panels used for lighting and the days laundry. Which one really makes the most environmentally friendly use of our resources?

On another blog I follow, the author wants to create a database of ecological houses in Britain, and lists several criteria for what could then be considered an ecological house (see Green Building Blog).

It's an extensive list and refers not only to how we build, but also including earth friendly technologies, and certifications (BREAM, AECB Silver or Gold, etc). I think the problem is is that I've never heard a clear definition of what exactly an ecological building is.
If a house uses solar panels, is highly insulated, reclaims rainwater, and uses triple-paned windows, is this necessarily an ecological building? What if the silicon used to make the solar panels produce silica dust which then causes lung cancer in the workers at the manufacturing plant? What if the insulation used is made of hydrofluorocarbons which has a global warming potential of 1430 times more than carbon dioxide? What if the steel pipes used water reclamation use a cement mortar to protect and strengthen the the pipes for long term use, adding to the more than 5% of manmade carbon dioxide emissions released by the cement industry? What if the triple-paned windows are manufactured in another country and have to be transported thousands of miles by jet fueled airplanes or diesel powered trucks?
If we look at every aspect of the building industry and break down every material used and where it came from and how it was made and what happens to it when the building needs to be torn down, I don't think any building would qualify as an ecological building.
Instead of trying to make buildings that are "less bad" as authors William McDonough and Michael Braungart in their book "Cradle to Cradle" describe current building trends, we should instead follow their idea to follow new design rules. Namely, use a framework of design that creates more than it destroys. To quote them directly, they ask,"why don't people and industries set out to create the following:

• buildings that, like trees, produce more energy than they consume and purify their own waste water
• factories that produce effluents that are drinking water
• products that, when their useful life is over, do not become useless waste, but can be tossed on to the ground to decompose and become food for plants and animals and nutrients for soil; or alternatively, that can return to industrial cycles to supply high-quality raw materials for new products
• billions, even trillions, of dollars' worth of materials accrued for human and natural purposes each year
• transportation that improves the quality of life while delivering goods and services
• a world of abundance, not one of limits, pollution, and waste."

William Mc Donough and Michael Braungart, Cradle to cradle: remaking the way we make things (New York: North Point Press, 2002), 90-91.

Building with Mud

mud wall with mud collected from the river for plastering

     Building with mud is quite common in Bangladesh, and found in most parts of the world. When built properly, the buildings can last for hundreds of years. When not, they can fall apart in a matter of months. I saw samples of both, well more than that, I saw simple huts with straw roofs and elaborate two story mud houses that were so old the owners had no idea when they were built.
     One of the first villages I visit on this trip,we met a family that built a mud house together in a matter of a few months. They dug out their backyard and used that mud to build a house with. The hole was already collecting water, and could possibly be used as a small pond to raise fish. Now that's what I call sustainable! 
     But mud building isn't always as great a material to use as us eco-builders like to think. Yes, it's cool in the summer heat, and keeps warm in the winter, unlike houses made of corrugated iron (CI) sheets. It doesn't need to be rebuilt every year like straw and bamboo houses. And if you live in the right region, the soil doesn't need to be mixed with anything, it can be taken right out of the ground and made into walls. 

mud house under construction

     Usually a plinth of mud is built about 18 inches high and the mud walls, added in blocks, are built on top. Holes are cut out for windows and doors, sometimes framed in wood. A layer of a more watered down mud mixture is applied like plaster on the exterior surfaces to protect the walls and give them a smoother texture. For two story buildings, a ceiling of bamboo or a combination of bamboo and hardwood, is spanned across the walls and mud is applied to the exterior sides of it. 

house destroyed within 2 months during the monsoon due to poor roofing

     Most of the problem comes with the roof. If the roof is made of straw, it has to be replaced every year, generally adding economic stress to family after the monsoon, when there tends not to be a lot of work available. If the family can afford it, they get a roof made of CI sheets. These can last 50 years if built properly, and if insulated, don't add too much heat in the summer time. 
     When asked what the biggest problem they had with mud houses, most said rats. They burrow through the walls or through the foundation and eat the food the family has stored for the winter months, not to mention spreading diseases like the plague!

Associations Part 2

     In a country where life expectancy is currently 67 years and was less than 50 around the time of her birth, Chamaly, a 57 year old villager from the Purbaborsha Village, Bangladesh decided to start the Ananda Moy Woman's Association. I didn't get an exact translation, but I believe the name comes from a famous Bengali spiritual leader, who's name means bliss-permeated mother. Started in December 2008, and presently with 28 members, the idea behind it was  to form a group that could establish the rights of all women in the village would create an abuse free environment.

Chamaly (right) speaks to the group.

     Chamaly was an anomaly from all the women that I talked to. Where most groups limited the age of their members from about 20 to 45 (mostly so that the members would be of sound mind and body), here was a 57 year old, who was not only a member, but the Chairperson. Asking the question "How old are your association members?" often turned into a lengthy group discussion (do you remember the day Bangladesh won it's independence? how old is your oldest child? were you already married during the big flood?), but Chamaly proudly stood up, took off her reading glasses, and told me her age. She was also one of the few people in the country I saw wearing glasses!

     She told me that as a child she had little interest in going to school, but now she wanted to learn everything. Teach us anything, we are willing to learn! Her village was one of the better educated of the ones I visited. Out of 19 people at the meeting 5 could only write their names, 5 had gone to 5th grade, 2 to 8th, 6 had completed their SSC or 10th grade (including Chamaly), and one, Herarai, the Treasurer had finished her HSC or 12th grade. I'm not sure all the women felt as strongly as Chamaly did about bettering themselves through education, but they clearly valued her strength and wisdom.

Ananda Moy Woman's Association,
Purbaborsha Village, Bangladesh

     The group meets every month in a shed made from corrugated iron sheets, built by the Grameen foundation to house community meetings, to discuss current problems within the community. Through the help of NGO's the women are learning about health and sanitation issues, training on income generating activities, and most importantly, what their rights are as a woman in Bangladeshi society. Due to the high illiteracy rate and the remoteness of many villages, most woman don't know what rights they have in society, and when they do learn them, are usually powerless to make use of them. There is no access to the judicial system when a woman feels trapped in her home or has no means of transportation out of her village. This women's association is starting to change that. Starting at home, and keeping within the confines of their culture, Ananda Moy is slowly stamping out domestic violence by engaging all the involved parties and their families in discussions. Bringing out in the open the atrocities and unfairness, and educating everyone of their rights in the process.

The Power of Associations

Traveling around rural Bangladesh, I got the opportunity to meet with several women who came up with an interesting way to solve their problems and deliver justice to those whose culture were failing them. They formed associations, because they found that in numbers they had much more power than they did as individuals.
I spoke with women from 11 different Women's Associations, which were developed of their own initiative, although assisted by an NGO for logistical things, like information on how to open a bank account, or how to get organized, or in leadership training. Some were recently organized, and some had been around for a few years. Most were formed to tackle similar issues: domestic violence, early marriage, dowry. Some had more specific goals, like the case of a woman being raped by her father-in-law or a village that needed to get the local prostitute to either change her line of work or to get out of town. Most problems were dealt with the same way, discussion with the person causing the problem and the affected families.
Before the formation of the group, women most often accepted their victimization as fate. Taking abuse as something that goes with the territory of being a married woman, not something that could be stopped. They felt powerless against their husbands, who controlled every aspect of their lives.
The women were able to not only organize themselves to curb the violence against them, they were able to pool their resources and save for the future. Most of the associations had each member contribute some amount money, anywhere between 20 to 50 Taka a month (about 20 to 50 cents) which would be saved in a bank account. The money could then be used for things like hospital costs if one had to be rushed to a hospital during child birth, or if a family couldn't cover school fees for their children. One association was pooling it's money in order to build a pond to cultivate fish to feed the village. 
Most of the time when a woman earned an income, she was forced to turn the money over to her husband, thereby losing any economic power to make decisions for her family. Here, she had not only the power of her own savings but those of her group members. She no longer had to stand alone and suffer. She now had the power of an association.

Immersion

I'm still traveling into unknown territory, but here's a link I found inspiring:
TED talks: Jacqueline Novogratz: Inspiring a life of immersion




While I was trying to get my career on track and sending resume after resume out to every job listing I qualified for, I realized that there were certain websites that I was continually being drawn to and there were the ones I felt I had to look at in order to get employed. These were the bookmarked pages I looked at everyday that listed all the new architecture job openings in a 50 mile radius. They all said the same things: they needed someone with at least 3-5 years experience, that knew AutoCAD, ArchiCAD, or Nemetschek Allplan, knew how to put together a set of construction documents, and that were flexible, creative, and were ready to work for an amazing firm that had exciting projects. Mostly they wanted someone who could sit in front of a computer 12-14 hours a day and not complain about it.
There were two firms I found that I did find interesting: one that had a link to a project where they built a school in Nepal, and one that was building a Convention Center in Rwanda. The firm with the project in Nepal, I found out later, that this school project seemed to be a one time deal. It was a project they were happy to do, but they were busy building super cool modern designs here, and weren't going to put more energy and resources in to other charitable projects. The firm with the project in Rwanda had a different approach. This firm, I thought had potential. They put together a conference and a gallery opening showing the project and making a big deal about the collaboration between the two countries. But when I looked more deeply into it, I found out that the project wasn't giving much to the Rwandans except for an expensive building to somehow take care of after the Germans designers and the Chinese construction workers had gone.
I was slowly losing faith. I wanted to work in architecture. I wanted to have projects I found meaningful. I wanted to provide shelter and schools and community centers for people who really need it, but I couldn't find anyone else who was doing what I wanted to do.
That's when I realized I needed to live a life of immersion. I needed to follow the projects that meant something to me. I needed to stop listening to all the people giving me practical advice on jobs I should apply for. This meant I was on my own. That I had to find the projects and find the funding and find the people who think the way I do, all on my own. It's a scary road to go down, but it's a lot more fun than banging my head against the desk trying to  apply for a job that would leave me bored and frustrated.
I challenge you to follow your dream and fully immerse yourself into the unknown. You'll be surprised at all the bliss you'll find.

Architects as problem solvers

While I'm traveling in places that may have an internet connection, but not likely at the same time that I'll have a continuous power source, here's an interesting article I came across to for you to look at until I return with new from Bangladesh.

It's called the Architecture of Disaster Recovery: A Call to Arms for Designers from the World's Most Vulnerable Regions. I found it in the Solutions Journal and it talks about how there are too few designers out there that are adequately trained in disaster recovery.

When I studied Architecture we learned how to design structures that would hold up against things like wind, earthquakes, heavy snowfall. But it was assumed that we would be building houses or high rises similar to the ones all around us. We thought about designing cool looking buildings that had more to do with sculpture than survival. 

There are a few schools that have studios or seminars that deal with real world problems, the article claims, and one that offers a Master's program in what it calls Sustainable Emergency Architecture.  As people start getting more interested in looking at long term solutions for keeping the world suitably housed in sustainable way, we need the academic world to pick up the pace.

For more on the subject read the book the article was based on: Beyond Shelter: Architecture and Human Dignity (Marie J. Aquilino, ed., Metropolis Books, 2011).

Fact Finding Mission

I leave on Friday for Dhaka, Bangladesh. I'm on a mission into the unknown. There are injustices going on in the world everywhere, and I no longer feel like I can sit at home and ignore them all. I picked a place that hit my heart. The people look like me, the schools look like the ones my parents went to, the girls in the village wear the same school uniforms as my cousins, the food tastes like my aunts cooking. So that's where I'm going to start. It could have been any where in the world, really, but after searching a few different paths this is where I ended up.
My bags are packed with my western ideas, my feminist sense of equality, my 10 years of higher education, along with my personal fears and insecurities, my lack of knowledge of the local language and customs, and the fact that things change really slowly sometimes, if at all. But I am going with my eyes and ears open. I do have an agenda, sort of. I want to see if it is possible to improve the lives of rural women through the use of sustainable architecture and recent improvements in construction technology. This may turn out to too foreign a topic to even be explored.
Maybe they are not even interested. Maybe they will view me as a freak. Maybe they will laugh at me or feel sorry for my children that have to suffer without their mother for two weeks (who in reality will be living large with my husband enjoying large amounts of chocolate and television and no real bedtime). But maybe there is a villager who wants to learn something new, who doesn't like how life has always been and dreams of something different, who will welcome a different perspective. Maybe, just maybe, something good will come out of my crazy idea to make a difference.
Follow me on my journey as I travel through the unknown and maybe we will all learn something from it.

So I didn't win...

A little disappointed, even though I never expected to win, but still, not the greatest feeling to have (like I have time for an 8 day safari in India anyway). For the CODesign: A Future without Concrete competition, they didn't announce a winner as of this morning, but they did list 5 finalists.  
Let's take a look:
GOgabioON: This project is based on building with recycled concrete, that uses broken down concrete pieces and builds walls out of them using wire cages (gabions). 
Baghaus: Uses EarthBag wall systems (earth tamped into polypropylene bags), cob for detail and structural elements, recycled concrete or local stone for foundations, and bamboo thatch for the roof. Added is the idea of using the thorny branches of locally grown bamboo instead of barbed wire as a mortar for the earthbags.
Paperboo: Substitutes concrete with Papercrete, a mixture recycled paper and cement and reinforced with bamboo.
Ram///Bam: Uses rammed earth with bamboo reinforcement for structural building members.
ash = (c)ash: Reuses fly ash, collected as waste material from a coal burning power plant in Mettur, to make bricks. The brick kiln is powered by burning rice husks, which uses it's waste product, the rice husk ash, in the mortar for the home. The house uses a parabolic vault design to do away with reinforced concrete beams usually needed for roof support.
A lot of the projects (mine included) use bamboo for structural support. I love the idea in theory, but really have to wonder how it holds up in reality. Especially when it's embedded inside of a mud wall. If it starts to deteriorate at the foundation, there's little way of knowing, and a lot of expense in repair. I prefer when bamboo is used externally, so you can not only enjoy the beauty of the material, but also know exactly when it needs to be replaced.
I read about EarthBag technology when researching my entry. My biggest concern was the use of the polypropylene bags as casing for the soil. I applaud the use of what would normally be considered trash bags, but when the building gets torn down, can you easily separate the polypropylene from the earth? Does it leak toxins into the earth? There are natural alternatives to polypropylene bags, but I believe at this point these are made so they biodegrade after a period of time, and so not the most useful thing to use as a structural element.
A few of the projects use thatch as a roofing material, which is great in that it is cheap, local, and keeps the rain out.  But what I've noticed is that there is a cultural stigma against the material, that only poor people build with it.  Plus, it needs a lot of upkeep, repair, and problems with insects.  Corrugated metal sheets, a material I absolutely hate, is much more desirable.  I think the next competition should look at ways to reduce the use of that.
I like the idea of using broken down concrete pieces in wire cages as a building material. Over here in Germany, I see a lot of retaining walls built of wire cages filled with stone, and it's really a beautiful material. I love the recycle factor involved in this idea.  Just open the cage and use the materials in a differently shaped cage for another project. It seems a little expensive though. I don't know about the availability of steel or its components, or ecological ramifications of using steel in that way, so I can't really comment.
Maybe some of you can...

The Big Idea

I found this architectural competition on-line, through the Open Architecture Network (part of Architecture for Humanity), that was so in tune with all the thesis ideas I had that I felt like I had to enter. Only the second competition I've ever entered, and the first one completely on my own.
The idea was to come up with a way to reduce the use of concrete in the context of a low income housing development in Bangalore, India. So up my alley, or so I thought. The problem was that I had so many ideas and then in researching them, I came up with so many more. By the time I finished I must have had at least 6 more Ph.D. thesis ideas.
The ideas were so clear in my head, and so simple. Take everyday products, found in the area, and use them to not only build houses, but create jobs and improve nutrition, all without trampling the environment. And show this on less than 4 sheets of paper, with less than 250 words, and understandable across languages and cultures. Easy peasy.
I was so excited about my first draft - a bunch of pictures of products and their uses and how they are all interconnected - but when I showed it to my sister, she was like, "nice pictures, but what does it all mean?"  
Back to the drawing board (which kept crashing unless I wiggled the CPU and graphic card and rebooted, but that's a story for another day).
So I kept refining until I got something somewhat understandable. The idea is to look at building in a larger context where the materials and where they come from and where they go after they are used are just as important as who is using them, are they safe to use, do they create jobs, do they produce energy, do they harm then environment. Can a house provide not only shelter but also produce energy? Can a building material also be a food source? Can a house give back more to the environment than it takes out of it?
Hopefully the judges see what I was trying to get at.

To view all the entries, go to http://openarchitecturenetwork.org/node/9610/entries/oancompetition_entries

Kitchen Experiments part 2

I didn't have a spot of continuous bright sunlight to dry out the tapioca flakes so they didn't dry out the way I would have liked.  After the second day, I decided to put it in the oven that was still hot after baking pretzels.  When I took out the chips they were dry and crumbly.  I tried pulverizing them with my puree thing, but chips just started flying so I used my blender.  It created a fine dust that smoked out of the top of the blender, but still had a few chunkier pieces on the bottom.  The one root I had, probably about 7 inches long and about 2 inches in diameter created about 2/3 cup of powder.

I cooked it with water, like when I make glue out of flour, adding 2/3 cup at a time.  The first 2/3 cup of water got soaked up as soon as I put it in.  The second mixed better, but made a bunch of lumps.  The third seemed like a bit too much water, but then mixed in better after it started cooking.  It's pretty lumpy and grainy, and not at all the color I had imagined (brown, not white or gooey).  Not crazy about the smell either.
I had imagined being able to coat random things in it and setting it outside to see how they weathered.  But haven't gotten that far.  Will have to wait until I get back from vacation or I come up with another potion.  I'm thinking I should toss this batch and try experimenting with the pristine white tapioca flour I saw at the asian store the last time I was there...

Kitchen Experiments part 1

Since I couldn't find anything on the web about tapioca starch used as a waterproofing agent, and because a friend assured me that thats how it was being used in projects she saw in Thailand, and because I bought a tapioca root just to take a picture of it for my competition entry and it was just sitting in the bottom of my refrigerator, I decided to do some experimenting. I haven't done any experiments like this since my high school science fair days, and the materials and information sources are pretty crude. I read on-line how to make flour out of the root - you make chips out of it and dry it in the sun, and then you grind it to a powder.

Looking up how to make the starch though, they kept saying it gets 'extracted.' I'm hoping I can make a glue of sorts like I make out of wheat flour when I do papermache. The idea is to grind up the dried chips, and then cook it in water and see what I come up with. If it looks like the paste I can make with wheat flour, I'll try testing it.

I figured any idea of trying to use tapioca out in the field as a sealant, would have to be incredibly low tech too. Something people can make and use without controlled settings. It's been rainy out, so I sliced up the root and spread it out on some baking paper and it's sitting in my oven (which isn't on at the moment). I'll set it out if the sun decides to shine and see what I get. I'm not ruining my coffee grinder on this though, I'll have to get a decent powder using my blender. I know, I really should use a mortar and pestle, but it's somewhere in my basement, and I have no idea where to start looking for it.

I put the chips out in the sun, and so far just bugs are trying to eat it. It still looks moist, not dry and flaky like I thought. Maybe it would have done better staying in my oven.

I booked my flight!

Last February, I traveled for the first time to Bangladesh.  There were so many obstacles to overcome, personally and logistically.  Where to get the money, what to do with my kids (I left them at home), trying to explain to everyone what was the point of spending all that money and abandoning my kids for two weeks.  But for some reason I had to go.  I traveled with an NGO that I had discovered and felt completely in tune with from the first meeting.  It's thoughts and beliefs, and the genuineness of it's members, completely opened up my senses and made me see a purpose I hadn't seen before.  I knew I had to get involved somehow, but I didn't know how.
The chairwoman was very nice, and as with a lot of Germans I'd met, liked my enthusiasm, but thought I needed to slow down a bit.  She kept saying, it would be better if you first took a trip out there and saw the projects that were in progress.  I didn't want to wait, I wanted to start doing something now.  But I waited, and kept checking their website to look for volunteer opportunities, I talked to the project manager to see if there was something I could get involved in.  Finally six months later I saw a posting for a position that I thought I could do - the evaluation of the programs.  How do you measure the effectiveness of community development programs?  How do you know if you are doing any good?  I applied.  There was a biannual meeting coming up, I said I'd discuss it with them then.
I was excited, I had an "in."  I had something to do!  So it was planned I would travel with the chairwoman and the project manager and visit the projects and talk to the director of the NGO in Bangladesh and see if I could be part of the process.  I had other plans to.  I am an architect, not a public health administrator.  What do I know about development programs?  Whatever, I was going to do whatever was needed, because I wanted to get involved.
So I got there. Nervous about leaving my family.  Not sure what I was going to do.  Not even really knowing the people I would be traveling around a foreign country with.  And what happened?  I was transformed.  Or I found someone who hadn't seen daylight in almost 10 years.  I found myself questioning and listening and observing and making connections with things I had read, and seeing how things work or don't work when put in real life situations.  I was so inspired by all the work that was being done.  My brain was functioning again.  I lost my shyness.  I was bolder than I had ever been.  I left there glowing.
On my last day, I was to talk to the director of the Bangladeshi NGO and make a pitch as to what project I would like to create.  I had already decided that my project idea was worth presenting, and if there was no reciprocity on their part, if they didn't think it would work with their members, then I would get involved in a different capacity.  But I had to at least try.
So I'm going back in October to lay the ground work.  To talk to rural women about my ideas about finding ways of how to use architecture to improve their way of life.  Either by teaching them how to improve their housing situation, or by teaching them skills to generate income, or by working with them to build a community center where they can meet and exchange ideas.  I arrive on what would have been my mother's 70th birthday.  I hope she's watching.

New Technology is Everywhere!

Researching for that competition I entered, I was constantly being amazed at random things I found out. Rice husks, which are a waste product of the grain, can be burned to not produce enough energy to run steam turbines, apparently the ash that gets created can be used to reduce the amount of cement in mortar. Don't get me started on the wonders of tapioca.  I thought bamboo was a wonder material. Tapioca is a close second (but only because you can't build skyscrapers from it).  It can be used in adhesives, in textiles, in making plywood, not to mention yummy teas and pudding!  I first heard about it when I met someone talking about using it as a sealant to waterproof houses in Thailand.  I've been researching that on the internet, but I can't find any resources on that.  But when I do, you'll be the first to hear about it.
One of the random facts I learned was when I was trying to figure out if burning cow dung patties for fuel created a hazardous health environment.  I've read about cooking smoke creating lung problems in developing countries, but I wasn't sure if it was just the smoke in general, or if there was something specifically in cow dung that made matters worse. I didn't find that out exactly, but I did find a random youtube video about a guy in Thailand (coincidence?) who figured out how to power his motorcycle using cow dung.  Apparently if you mix it with water and ferment it in what looked like a still, you produce a fuel that an engine can run off of.  I just spent over a hundred euros (about $150) to fill up the gas in my car the other day.  That could have bought me a ton of dung producing Thai cows, and even more Thai tapioca!

Bamboo! It never ceases to amaze me.

I've been doing some research about natural building materials for a competition I'm entering: CODesign 2011.

I've read about how great bamboo is before.  How fast it grows, how strong it is, how environmentally friendly it is. I've seen it used for many different things, from scaffolding, to roofing, to plywood, to furniture, to textiles (yes, I have bamboo socks).  But what I learned the other day is that it has been used for centuries in China to purify water!  Oh come on, you can't be serious.  Apparently it's true.  And not only does it get rid of the contaminants, it add minerals and makes it healthier to drink!
Not pure bamboo, but bamboo charcoal.  It can be produced in a couple of ways, either from whole pieces of bamboo, including the culm, branch, or the root, or from using waste material from processed bamboo that is compressed into briquettes.  The charcoal has a high absorption rate and it can apparently be used to purify the water found in rivers and lakes and sewage!  And if that wasn't enough, apparently the charcoal pieces can be exposed to UV light, and reused!

Earthbags???

I was researching alternatives to cement and came across an interesting concept in building - building with Earthbags.  I know, sounds weird.  But I guess the word television sounded weird to people when it came out too.  Here's a link to a blog I started reading: https://earthbagbuilding.wordpress.com/
It takes the concept of building with compressed earth and puts it into bags, which form the blocks to build with.  I like the idea that the earth can be taken directly from the site and doesn't need to be of any particular consistency or have a certain amount of clay to give it it's strength.  I read the bags can be made of burlap, but that has the tendency to rot, and that polypropylene is better, but they need to be protected from too much sunlight.  I don't have a background in chemistry, but any thing that starts with a poly- sounds man-made to me and makes me believe they have their environmental drawbacks.  What I like about the idea of compressed earth blocks, is that they can eventually be destroyed and turned back into flat earth.  The earth bags would have to be emptied by hand, and then you have a pile of, albeit reusable, polypropylene bags on your hands.
Further along in the blog he talks about using rice husk ash as a replacement for cement in compressed earth blocks.  So far the studies I've read replaced cement by up to 30% with the ash and kept similar qualities. But I don't know why it can't completely be replaced.  I also wonder, what happens when you want to use the land for something else?  Can the building that uses compressed earth with it's mixture of soil, hay, and cement or rice husk ash, biodegrade?  What happens to the acidity of the soil when the blocks are torn down?  Can you grow food on that soil?  Is it reusable?  I hope to find out.

How much space do we really need?

When my husband and I were first married we shared a half a house with another couple.  We had a 13 x 17 bedroom and a bathroom to ourselves, but everything else we shared with sometimes two or three other people.  My husband brought boxes of stuff over from Germany, still don't know what all was inside of them, but there were enough of them to build a makeshift wall about 4 feet high.

I brought over whatever I needed for work from my apartment in California, but the rest of my stuff went to my parents basement, their garage, my old room.  There were a handful of outfits that I wore on a regular basis, and I didn't really need heavy winter clothes in Florida, so they got stored, somewhere.  You know,  just in case one day it snowed.

When I got pregnant we moved into a two bedroom apartment and somehow along the way we acquired enough stuff to fill that.  When my son was two we bought a three bedroom house with a two car garage, and filled that too.  The guest room was really just more storage space and after a year or so we couldn't park any of our four cars in the garage that we found a way to fill with more stuff we needed or would need at some point.

When we moved to Germany with our now three kids, we scaled back, to what turned out to be two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen and dining room.  There are two rooms downstairs, one for storage, and one that is heated and can be used as a guest room.  The garage holds the car, because after 4pm there's no street parking, and it's so tight there's no room for anything else. And the way I drive, it hardly holds the car, itself.  I packed up 73 boxes, only a third of what we owned in Florida, and still I have about a third of that still unpacked in my basement over here.

Sure it gets loud, but I can vacuum my house in under a half hour.  I know when every child is doing something dangerous without having to leave my bed. But everyone still has enough private space, and we don't have to buy a bunch of stuff so that the rooms look like they have a purpose.  At first the kids shared a room and we had our own room.  Then as my son got older he got one of the bedrooms, and the girls share one, and we converted the dining area to our master bedroom by placing cabinets to divide the space.  One of the ideas was to get the toys out of the living area, and to give my son some privacy.  So what happened?  My son makes up excuses to sleep in his sisters room, his room is pretty much just a mess, and the toys make their way into the living area, usually under your bare feet, generally when carrying some hot or fragile.

They like to be together.  When I try to get some space, they come find me.  They have to be touching me or sitting very close to me.  They have to be on the same spot on the couch together and fight over it, even though there's plenty of space on the other end of the couch.

At what point in their lives do humans want to be alone in a 18x24 bedroom with nothing but furniture, trinkets, and electronics?  I mean normal, healthy people, not over-stressed, over-stimulated, over-tired moms of young children.
I finally convinced myself that my old clothes and old toys I that could never before part with would be better off with strangers that needed them then they would be sitting in a box in my basement.  The first thing I sold was the bed in the guest bedroom.  The woman who bought it for me sent me a picture of her daughter's new room featuring my old bed.  I couldn't have been happier.  That bed had a purpose.  It was being loved by a little girl who now had a big girl bed.  And I had one less burden in my life.

Eye Candy

When I was studying architecture in Los Angeles I learned the term "Eye Candy."  Stuff that looked really cool, caught your eyes, made you take a second look.  These seemed to be the projects that got the most attention.  For me what was important was substance.  I was so busy trying to get my projects to have some sort of substance, I often ran out of time to make the look fancy or eye-catching. I was a minimalist in a world of maximalists.

Out of school, trying to deal with the real world, I'm faced with this same idea again.  Just trying to get my kids to wear appropriate clothing is a struggle. Everyone, at every age (yes, I mean you, my beloved 4 year old) has their won sense of style, of comfort, of what they think is important to them to showcase themselves to the rest of the world.

It's the same with housing.  Everyone has different ideas of what to them is a beautiful house.  I remember driving through Beverly Hills with a friend of my brothers who just loved every huge mansion he saw, regardless of what it looked like. He just liked it because it was big.  I have a friend who lived in a developed community in Florida where every house looked exactly the same.  Although hers was painted a slightly different shade of green.  My parents had a house where the living room ceiling opened up to a gallery of the upstairs and an entry that was a double story space.  It was the only house on the street that did that.  It got really hot in the summer time, my room was tiny because they were trying to squeeze 4 bedrooms into a space big enough for three.  But it was an awesome space, not just for throwing laundry and toys down at my brother standing below, but for lying on the couch and staring up at the sloped ceiling and watching the shadows of the walls and railing pass as the sunlight moved across the room.

But when we talk about the affordability of building houses, where do we start skimping?  What makes something more of a necessity than something else? When you build in a resource poor community, what is your choice of building material?  The push from the west is to go green. Use local materials.  Use local resources.  But the east wants trendy cool eye catching stuff just like the west does too.  Why should they be left behind?  

Is there a way to use local materials and make it look cool and trendy?  Is that an expense they can afford?  Can they afford not to?  If we used traditional ways of building using local materials, but jazzed it up or cladded it differently, would it make it more desirable?  So much of why traditional building techniques aren't used by the wealthier people in resource poor areas, is because of cultural biases and stereotypes.  How do we make them cool again?  Its a common phenomena in the US that poor communities get infiltrated by poor artists who then make the area look cool to wealthy people and suddenly the property prices soar out of control. Is there a way to make traditional building techniques, which tend to be environmentally friendly and most suitable to the climate, cool again?  Without it becoming so cool (and therefore expensive) that it remains accessible to everyone?

Compressed soil block construction can look like, umm well, compressed soil blocks.

Compressed soil blocks can look cool too!  Here is an example of a structural vault built out of compressed soil blocks built from local soil for a new museum at the World Heritage Site of Mapungubwe in South Africa designed by Peter Rich Architects.  Michael Ramage (Cambridge), John Ochsendorf, and Philippe Block designed the unreinforced structural masonry vaults in collaboration with Henry Fagan in South Africa. Matthew Hodge developed the cement-stabilized tiles in collaboration with Anne Fitchett (Univ. of Witwatersrand). Based on his experience building the domes of the Pines Calyx in the UK, James Bellamy supervised the vault construction on site.