Aggregating Mistakes

We knew we would make many mistakes when we began this project. Today's mistakes are the seeds for tomorrow's successes, and we prefer to leave this project having made most of our grand mistakes in natural building. For your edification and amusement, here are some of the errors of our ways.

1. We'll just strap the baby on our backs and work together.

This one doesn't mind.

The baby, as it turns out, has plenty to say about that. Half of us is occupied with childcare in easy times, and on other days we abandon work on the natural house to cook, clean and nap. Parenting is a much harder job than natural building.

2. That looks fine, let's just go ahead and build.

We try to accommodate many different priorities here, sometimes leading us in a tricky balancing act with no right choice and many wrong ones. After digging and filling the foundation trench for the first attempt we realised we hadn't put enough thought into the design. The result was several awkwardly large rooms that had no flow. This and several other "mistakes" filled us with such regret we decided to scrap the first attempt, relocate the site, and begin again from scratch.

3. We'll organise the site later.

Chaos.

Order

When the schedule is placed before all else, quality of work is sure to suffer. Organisational lapses accumulate and boulders end up on the wrong side of a foundation trench. Piles of excavated earth block the work area, until they are haphazardly relocated to make way for a wheelbarrow. On an un-level site, just carting around 80kg of rock is a challenge. Alternatively, a site with even a minimum of forethought put into organisation is delightfully satisfying to work on and, personally, much more aesthetically pleasing. Sand, stones and earth handy where you need them; always a clear and level path for the wheelbarrow; safe for children to work and play in and around. They must mind the scorpions, of course.

4. Never trust Zapata.

More on this later.

5. Trust in ourselves and our vision.

(alternatively, Just Say No!)

There will always be someone who thinks they know better than us how to accomplish our dreams. Sometimes they do know better than us about the practicalities of getting there. But if we relinquish decision making to this person, at that point our dream ceases to be ours and becomes theirs -- and that is in the lucky case. Much more likely is that our dream becomes their side-project or resumé-padder, and we are pointed in the "right" direction and left on our own at the first difficulty. We cannot trust our intuition once we begin down this road because the project no longer comes from us, is no longer tied to our standards, nor to our aesthetic and technical vision. No matter how much more than us someone knows about a specific subject or way of doing something, we will stand firm in our decisions. Working to educate yourself without a teacher can be stressful and frightening. The final form of your work remains cloudy and the path to achievement is unclear. This project has been full of these experiences: learning to cement, learning to plaster, learning to build a dry toilet and grey water system, learning to build a stone foundation. I can say that ultimately, walking our own path is much more satisfying and, for me, has been much more edifying than following someone else. Even if it means restarting from scratch a couple of times.

Our intuitive interpretation of dry-stacked stone foundation. Taken before we applied mortar.

Orion's Belt

The longer you stare at the night sky the more stars are revealed. The patina of thinly spotted blackness dissolves and coloured spots of light twinkle into vision. The empty space between those spots is filled with a glowing cob-web of stellar illumination. Galaxies and constellations take shape

Under the stars, I think of our project in Ecuador. We had an idea that we would arrive in the country, proceed to work with Ainoa on our backs, helped by a small force of volunteers to finish the cob house and build a permaculture garden where we would grow most of our vegetables.

The longer we stay and work the more complexities and problems are revealed. The naïve vision dissolves and administrative realities make us spend time where we had not planned to spend it.

The water company's sense of humour.

Recently we lost water and spent a total of 14 days without drinkable water, and without any water at all for 12 of those days. I wish I could say this was a rare occurrence. The only thing to note this time was the extraordinary long duration of the stoppage.

Despite, although "in spite of" is more true to our feelings, all the misadventures and time wasted waiting in doctor's offices, lines at the utility company and Associasion Nacional de Transito, we have managed to complete more than nothing.

First, we have learned a lot. About ourselves, mostly. Call it knowledge, or wisdom -- the skein of accumulated experience that pulls judgement in one direction or another.

And then there's the house. It's not that we haven't worked on it, it's just that progress has been... well...

The first attempt at the house was rushed. We didn't level the site beforehand. The gravel trench was too shallow half around. We didn't tamp the bottom of the trench or the drainage gravel. The "rocks" we received for the stem-wall were actually aggregate full

Radiolarian is not rock.

of fossilised radiolarian, small mineral skeletons formed by oceanic protozoa eons ago, before the continental plates collided together and pushed up the Andean mountains; these "rocks" melted into a wet clay-like substance after the first big rain. We didn't use mortar between the rocks.

The second attempt, our current attempt, is much less rushed. We levelled the site roughly 2 meters around from the exterior of the walls. The gravel trench extends down a good 60cm under all parts of the exterior wall. We tamped the bottom of the trench and tamped again after each 15cm layer of drainage gravel. We built the stem wall with rocks we had ordered from a quarry. We are currently mortaring the rocks together to prevent the biting flies, cockroaches, mice, opossum and scorpions from sneaking in. The spiders we don't mind so much, especially since they tend to consume unwelcome insects. Even the brown-widows are guests on the outside-facing parts of the stem-wall.

Hello, Lycosidae friend.

Doing things properly takes a lot of time. The satisfaction of a job well-done comes at the price of an extended schedule and a lot of effort. We gladly pay this price, and then grimace as environmental variables double it.

Between the first and second attempts it rained and the radiolarian melted into the drainage gravel. We had to remove the radiolarian from the gravel trench, some of it with a 18-pound sledge-hammer, the wooden handle of which broke after three strikes and had to be replaced with a steel tube. The remaining gravel was covered with a layer of concrete-like organic matter that prevented drainage. We continued to have rain. The layer of radiolarian turned into a gooey glue which no amount of sifting would remove. So we shovelled the gravel out of the trench and spread it out on the ground to dry it in the sun and air. When it had dried we sifted it twice and carted it over to the new site by wheelbarrow.

Hard work.

We filled the gravel trench on the second site and tamped it. We began dry-stacking the rocks we had moved from large piles next to the first site. Some were so heavy we had to roll them the 15m into place. After dry-stacking, we began to mix cement and sand to make mortar. Mortar mixes require a good amount of water available, both for incorporation in the mix and for wetting and cleaning tools. Monthly water outages are common in the region, sometimes for up to five or six days per month. When we began to mix mortar we lost water on the third day, for four days. On the fifth day the water came back and we lost electricity in the afternoon. Of course, our mixer is electric. The next day electricity was restored. Two days later we lost water, for four days, and on the fifth day the water ran from the faucet dark grey, all day. So we came down to Quito for a week, from where I write now.