This webpage is dedicated to the part of the WhyNot 2005 trip where Andrei and Patrick went on the Eco-building workshops in Poland.
It was the final evening before I was due to spend two weeks at the Earth Hands & Houses Eco-building workshops in Poland where I would learn the various techniques for how to build a house that had a low impact on the environment using locally available materials and natural building techniques. I was spending the last night before the course in Gdańsk in Northern Poland. I was told that vegetarian food would be provided on the course, so me and Patrick (a long time friend who I was travelling with) decided to have a 'meat stag-night' before facing up to two weeks of vegetarianism.
Patrick had had an idea to build a low-impact eco-house in Portugal. On searching the web, he discovered the place in Poland that was offering the Eco-building workshop, and told me about it. The dates of the workshop fell nicely in the middle of the Poland leg of our grand trip – so I thought that it would be a good opportunity not only to learn the art of 'Eco-building', but also to get to know the natives of Poland by doing something with them.
The next day, we got a train heading towards the nearest station to the site. Patrick had started to read a book about how to put an end to poverty, and I was reading Sun Tzu's "The Art of War". Patrick asked why I was reading an ancient Chinese military strategy book while being amongst a bunch of ecologically aware individuals who were likely to be pacifists. I explained that it wasn't just about warfare in ancient China, but that the ideas presented in the book could be abstracted and applied to the constant ongoing battle of thoughts and ideas that made up much of the world today.
Once we got to the nearest train station, we were told take a bus to the main square in a village close to the eco-village, and if we did not see anybody who was going to give us a lift, we should continue to the next bus-stop – an interesting feat considering that we did not know who would be likely to give us a lift. Thanks to my mobile phone, we were indeed able to confirm that somebody would pick us up.
After a quick stop in a local convenience store for some supplies, we were driven off to the eco-village on the outskirts of a nearby hamlet – located just a few minute's drive from the village – or 65km from Warsaw (near the town of Płońsk).
The main focal point of the site was a house built entirely using natural means. The walls were made of straw covered in clay, but there were plenty of timber support structures. The roof was alive – it was made from plants growing on soil. It meant that the roof had to be watered frequently.
When we got there, we were shown the insides of the house. Patrick was asking all sorts of questions and taking notes, but I was just looking bemused and appreciating how well the house had turned out. We were introduced to the others who had turned up. At the time, there were few, but they seemed pretty enthusiastic. We were then shown the rest of the site. Amongst the highlights were a hobbit-house built out of sandbags – just what was needed to house any passing hobbits, the outdoor toilet (and only toilet) which consisted of a wooden bench with a hole and a hole in the ground that had to be filled in each time it was used and whose modesty was provided by a wall of conifer twigs and branches, a shower which was a watering-can attached to a rope that went round a branch (the modesty was the same – except only surrounded on 3 of the 4 sides), a tepee, and some stones laid out in a maze-pattern.
After the tour, we set up our two-person tent and joined the others for dinner. We washed up the dishes when we finished. There was no soap – we just used water and sand to rub the dirt off. This was back to the basics! Patrick and me retreated to our tent for the night. The surface was hard and lumpy, but after a few days, we used some straw to soften it.
The following day was when the first workshop started. After breakfast, we stood in a circle and took it in turns to introduce ourselves by saying who we were and something about ourselves. I originally thought about doing a fancy introduction using my own theories derived from my latest insights into myself, but instead settled for a bog standard introduction where I said what I did (computer game programming ), and mentioned that I was looking forward to getting my fingers dirty. On reflection, I should have said 'hands' instead of 'fingers' but even so, I think my introduction went well. Just about everyone there shared an enthusiasm for saving the universe, and were generally very positive-minded people. Most of the people were Polish.
There were roughly 16 people – several of whom only stayed for one of the two workshops, and some who briefly left in the breaks between workshops. There were only 3 non-Poles including ourselves (none of who could speak Polish). Most of the Poles spoke English, so whenever we were around, the language usually automatically switched to English. Several of us had some interesting skills that we decided to share amongst the others. These included Tai Chi, breathing exercises, and even a new method of brushing teeth using a twig and some powder. Patrick and me got on well with the others, and it was not long before the trousers I was wearing were named "Save the Universe Trousers". This was because they had many pockets stuffed to the brim with things – so many things that it looked like there were enough to save the universe.
The first workshop involved building with sandbags. In order to build with sandbags, you need to have lots of sandbags, and in order to have lots of sandbags, you need to fill lots of sandbags ... you get the idea. We decided to build another 'hobbit-house'. This turned out to be somewhat smaller than the existing one, but we finished it in only 3 days (although the plastering of the walls was done later). Even taking into account the number of sandbags that needed to be filled, there were still more people around than there needed to be. We took it in turns to do the various tasks we had been assigned, but even so, there were usually more people standing around watching than there were working. We referred to them as 'the committee'.
When not building with sandbags, we were shown the benefits of arches. Arches were the best structure for creating an entrance that could support a huge weight. We were experimenting with different arch designs to see which could take the most weight. However, once we chose a design, we ended up building an arch out of – yes, you guessed it – sandbags. When we finished, we were so proud of our arch that we all stood on top of it to pose for some photos.
The second workshop was about straw bale construction. We built a small straw hut with a roof made out of felled beech-trees. Just the place to live in as long as no big bad wolves came along. Like the first time round, there were more volunteers than there were available tasks. The foundations consisted of a couple of layers of sandbags, but from then on, it was straw bales all the way to the roof. We even chopped down some beech-trees to build the roof. At first, the beech trees made a nice smelling roof, but that only lasted for a day or two before the trees started to decay. The trees were then pruned of their leaves and remaining branches to give the roof it's permanent structure.
Third workshop focused on plastering. This involved covering the hut we built in the second workshop with a layer of plaster, and also filling the gaps between the straw bales with plaster. We used different types of plaster for different purposes. The plasters we used contained mixtures of clay, straw, lime and water. We had to mix the ingredients ourselves using just our hands, and then either stuff the result into gaps in the straw bales or create a layer on the edge of the hut. This may seem tedious at first, but doing it with the right people, it can be fun. The lively banter not only made the experience bearable, but enjoyable too.
During the workshops, some people left, and some joined. Also, there were several visitors. Some of them had come to previous workshops and had just come back to catch up with things. There was even an old lady who sought refuge from her drunken husband in the first hobbit-house (not the one we had just built).
The evenings were spent having our vegetarian dinner out in the field behind the house and then staying there to discuss our plans for saving the world, and even mention a computer game idea or two – all this while glowing with positive energy and watching the wonderful sunsets. Even as a non-vegetarian, I thought the food was thoroughly great. In fact, as time went on, we learned that very few of us were full-time vegetarians. We'd stay out until after the sun had set. We'd then either retreat to the house, our tents, or sometimes, head for the tepee to sit round a fire drinking beer, and a mixture of apple juice and vodka (this only works with Polish vodka).
The tepee was heated by a fire in the middle. The fire was fuelled by logs and other pieces of local wood that had to be replaced often. It would sometimes overheat the tepee making it feel more like a sauna. This inspired me to think up more efficient means of heating a tepee. The tepee was about twice as high as it was wide, meaning that because heat usually goes straight up due to convection, most of the energy of the fire heats the large volume of air above the fire rather than the people sitting to the side. I managed to come up with a design for a centrally heated tepee. The fire would be in an underground layer with pipes from the outside burrowing underneath and leading to the fire from below that supply oxygen to the fire, and above the fire, there will be pipes leading to the edges of the tepee surface, the centre of the surface, and any other places that need to be heated. This will ensure that the heat is distributed more evenly. As well as thinking about centrally-heated tepees, I also partook in the discussions going on around me, and when the discussion reverted to Polish, I would just soak up the atmosphere and watched the patterns made by the flames and embers. We would often play what instruments we could muster. We had some tambourines, but used any surface we could find as a drum. We even made a makeshift didgeridoo out of a stray length of pipe. One night, we had a singsong. We sung whatever tunes we could muster. I even burst into a spontaneous rendition of Elvis. Despite all this, not one of us could sing a Polish song.
We quickly got used to the basic facilities. The use of the toilet happened soon, but I eventually could not put off using the shower. Not only was it a watering can attached to a rope, but it was cold. Cold showers are fun, but they make you breath heavily. There was a nearby lake or two a short drive away that we would go to cool down, or as I suspected, to have an excuse for avoiding the shower. Drinking water was transported by foot from the nearby hamlet itself. All this made us feel more in touch with each other and ourselves. Sharing a dwindling roll of toilet paper is an interesting experience.
The setting was very rural, but we could still see some light. Nobody was sure if it was the illumination from Warsaw or if it was because of the remaining daylight caused by the short midsummer nights. The night-sky was filled with stars, but the moon had strangely disappeared. Patrick and me would then retire to our tent to discuss the day's events (sometimes in Dutch simply because we felt like doing so), and listened to the barking dogs before we fell asleep. The dogs were probably barking to relay messages to each other from across the fields. This was the closest the dogs had to the Internet, so we called the barking noises the "Dog-Internet".
Apart from the two lakes, there was the nearby village. We went on a short excursion there after a few days. There was not much in the village, but even so, it felt like we were back in Civilisation. The pub-toilet turned out to be a disappointment, as it was even worse than the one in the eco-village. There was a place in the eco-village where we could access the Internet, but even that did not make up for the poor pub toilet.
As time went on, the discussion-topics were concentrated more about building and less about saving the world. About halfway through, we were shown some of the photos taken from earlier on in the trip. Even then, it seemed like we had been there for ages.
Being amongst a mostly Polish crowd (there were only 3 non-Poles on the course) offered a unique opportunity to learn about Poland, the Polish and their culture. We were told many tales of Polish history, not to mention tales of drunken student escapades in Wrocław. As me and Patrick had spent two weeks before the Eco-building course travelling around Poland without knowing the language, we came up with our own conclusions about our observations of the Poles, but hearing it from the horses' mouths of the Poles themselves painted a completely different picture. We got to learn bits of Polish, but of course, our introduction to the linguistic realm of the Poles was sabotaged by those who insisted on trying to teach us the true meaning of the word 'kurwa'. The Poles had made up their own names for several countries. Germany was called 'Niemcy'. This literally means "Land of the people who don't speak". This was because many thousands of years ago, the Slavic tribes headed west ... so far west that they came across some Germanic tribes that who could not understand them spoke a language they could not understand – hence the name. The Polish name for Italy is 'Włochy' – meaning "Land of the hairy people".
Overall, I think that the experience was well organised and the courses were well executed. Everybody who came took it seriously – some people even taking notes about what they had been taught. Once it was time to start work, everyone was willing to do their bit. Even though we sat round a fire in the tepee having a few beers, nobody saw it as an excuse to get so drunk they couldn't get up the next day. One thing I did notice is that not a single couple paired up (apart from the ones who were already couples before the workshops) – a sign of the times perhaps? The work and the company of many like minded individuals kept me from becoming restless, although restlessness did start to creep in during the final few days when the population of the eco-village had dwindled to a small fraction of it's former self. The founder of these courses (Paulina) who had extensively travelled the world in search of natural building techniques could not appear in person, so the courses were instead taken by someone who had learned from her (apparently, his style was more 'laissez-faire'). Despite Paulina not showing up, a copy of her book on Eco-building was in the eco-village and she was often talked about – it was as if she was there, but as an invisible woman. Even so, it was good to see that the techniques of Eco-building had been passed on to another generation.
Report by Andrei
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