one missed stop and a 3rd degree burn later

07 Nov 06

It’s hot. And sticky. Points I hadn’t forgotten, really, just suppressed back with the other inconveniences. (Winters in Oklahoma… attempting a trip to the grocery store during an ASU football game...) The clouds are heavy and gray, teasing as they roll inland over the lagoon.

The breeze I thought was my friend, was a foe in disguise. I went to visit Noah yesterday in Aklorborgi (Woe). His house is in a coconut grove a few minutes off the water. Which came first, I am not sure, but he is too much of an entrepreneur not to take advantage and perpetuate the situation. A 4-coconut lunch is one of my favorite things. Got me thorough malaria. Would save me if was dehydrated in the forest (equipped with an IV kit, of course). They are a saving grace when you forget lunch and have walked two miles—two miles with the friend/foe breeze at your back. When my hair was longer, I always had it pulled back. It’s so short now, save the bits in front, it blows around but never in my eyes. I didn’t realize it was an issue until my bath this morning, when I scrubbed over a lovely scorching burn, right where my hair parted. Take the mental image of a redneck sans undershirt, and put it on a yevu with a tank top. Visually I am dressed, whether I am clothed or not. Needless to say, today I am sporting sun screen, sunglasses and choosing the shady paths whenever possible.

So Noah is good. He and his family are well. Our land is still there, now covered in cassava since the coconut trees we planted went unwatered—the negatives of being away for three years. We threw around possibilities and methods of building: using local materials, maximizing economy, building as an example, providing a program that will benefit the village. And what I like about Noah, is when the crazy yevu throws out a crazy idea like having a green roof, rather than laugh and scoff (which has happened), he sat and thought about it. And continued to think about it for the rest of the afternoon. I asked him later when he was staring off what he was thinking about.

“It’s a good idea…the plants on the roof. You can keep all that you need for the family right there: your pepper, and spices. Then save the ground for crops to sell. I've heard about it. Soldiers that have traveled to Lebanon talk about it, but they never implement it...No one is building that here…Aha... it will work. It is good for this community. Others might think it is too risky, but I need to think about my children, and my grandchildren. We need to build in a way that is best for them.”

Traditionally, as the land is divided through the generations, building takes viable crop land and the families can no longer support themselves as farmers. Cluster housing with roof gardens better insures some land use, if only to support the immedate family. It's tricky--taking the current building mentality and pushing it a bit. "Many people build this way because they know it works-It is too expensive to try something new." I think it might be a greater challenge to blend materials together than it will be to rearrange a typical compound.

So that’s what he and I will be working on, taking this small plot as an example. I have a 90'x90' plot to start with, possibly also an adjacent plot. He has been talking with the owner to buy it--8,000,000 Cedi… roughly $900. Thinking about the green roof he got excited about the possibility of planting it as a grove, and clustering the housing to keep the land open for crops.

One crazy yevu and once crazy amebo, building just crazy enough that others might take notice.