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!