Yesterday I dropped Jim off at his new school. It is called Las Cañadas and is about an hour and a half south
of Coátepec. Once a cattle ranch, in 1995 or so it was converted into an agroecological farm devoted to teaching and experimenting in methods of farming that would enhance the possibilities for local people to farm in harmony with their land and not need to go to the US. It makes money for its projects through ecotourism and through classes like the one Jim is taking. Check out its website.
Jim is there for a class in learning how to build things with bamboo. Bamboo is considered a good renewable resource here because it grows easily and fast. Jim would like to learn how to build with it so he could make some (I suspect building-sized) mathematically-based models, among other things.
The place is as environmentally sound as it practical, I suspect, from the use of LEDs to composting toilets. One plug I'd like to get in here: being environmentally sound, sustainable, growing things for local consumption: this isn't going back to the dark ages as some people I know think, but rather using our most advanced knowledge wisely.
Jim said, before we left, I bet they have composting toilets. I said, I bet they do. We looked at their site, and they do. And when we got there, we saw that for sure they do. Very attractive ones, too. Jim and I have been struggling with this issue, not with each other, but philosophically and from a practical perspective. Like most Americans, both of us had drilled into us in different ways certain attitudes about ummm how icky the poop we produce is. My dad the doctor (and, for you remaining battered Freudians) was, to put it mildly, insistent on how filthy it was, how it had to be gotten rid of FAST, how you should wash your hands THOROUGHLY immediately. I remember enormous discomfort when we hiked and camped some years ago in Yosemite and it was incumbent upon us to dig it up and bring it out. Yuk!
Anyway, speaking for myself, I have relaxed somewhat, probably owing to the fact that we don't flush our toilet paper here in much of Mexico, but rather put it in a separate container. I have gotten so used to this that it seems really rude to flush it when I go home.
So now that I've gotten all of you repelled and attracted, check out this PDF that Las Cañadas offers on why use composting toilets. It's actually got a lot of humor. It is in Spanish, but pretty self-explanatory.Download cacofobia.pdf
Anyway, even though our neighbors Juan and Anita who are way ahead of us in this game don't know it, we have been concerned about our own sewage problems. We join the bulk of the colonia (and, if you look at the document above, you'll see, most of the developing world) in letting our sewage run right into the river which arrives here in not such bad shape, but leaves it in filthy shape. There are little holding traps which break things down a bit, but nowhere near enough. So Jim and I have had an architect out, but it turns out that all our sewage runs together: the laundry, the bath, the sinks and the toilets, and it would take quite a system of holding tanks to get it to the point of being usable. We'd essentially have to tear up the whole front yard. And then we could plant on top, but not edible stuff. We have friends with a much bigger yard who've done this.
So basically, we're working our way towards composting toilets. This is overcoming my deepest prejudice, I think. It's hard work. But I look at the hillsides around us and imagine, what if someday they got turned into sustainable forest/farm land and the colonia produced the compost for it.
So we have the name of someone who makes the things and when Jim comes back, maybe we will show the courage of our convictions.
Anyway, back to the school. (I bet you didn't think this post was going to be about toilets, did you?)
Jim will have to write about what it was like to take the course. Here I can show you some pictures of the buildings, clustered together in a little campus in a style you could call Gaudí rústico.
The kitchen-dining room building:
Jim and Giaco and Rita admiring the columns. Rita and Giaco came along to keep me company on the way home and for a beautiful walk along a ridge at Las Cañadas.
The kitchen:
The classrooms (I think):
The front end of the dormitory, called the hotelito and made up of a row of small rooms with a set of bunkbeds in each.
Looking down the portico of the dormitory:
Jim on his lower bunk bed awaiting his first class.
And the bathrooms. The johns and the showers are inside the scallops. In the center is a large pool of water with a counter and cutouts for reaching into the water.
Anyway, I miss Jim, but I bet he's having a really good and interesting time.