World Series in Panama

Last week was the World Series.

Well, the Panama version.

Even though the entire country is the area of South Carolina and has just 3 million people, there are about 9 to 12 teams in the Major League here, one (or more) from each province, and they can be pretty fanatical about their teams and province identity. Veraguas, our province, is Los Indios, or the indians, and you'll see hats looking very much like the Cleveland Indians on a lot of folks; one of our friends has a hat with the Indian on the front and "Clevenland" - with an extra "n" - on the back, possibly a misprint from the US. (I don't know for sure the number of teams because we don't have TV or listen to the games on the radio much, and it is never clear to me which provinces have combined teams, and which have more than one.)

The season isn't long, starting sometime in January or so, after the youth leage has played their games after the rains stopped, and finishing in mid-April. This year, Veraguas apparently made it into the championships. And we were in Santiago, our provincial capital, on the night of Game 6. We had to win to stay in. We were downtown, and found out that they (not sure who "they" are) had set up two Huge Screen TVs and massive speakers (you must have things very loud for some reason) for folks to watch the game. Probably 250 people had collected to watch, groan, cheer, and yell as the game progressed.

Here is the scene in the square sometime in the second inning.

In the end, Veraguas lost the game and Los Santos won the championship. But we enjoyed watching the families and people watching the game.

Composting Latrines

It isn’t gross, so keep reading.

Our house was just a storage room and office before we moved in, without a spot to go to the bathroom, a deficiency we had to remedy before moving in. It is just a few feet above high tide level so we figured a normal latrine (with a nine-foot deep hole) would likely hit water quickly, and since we’re only going to be there for a short time, we didn’t want to make any huge permanent changes. So we did some research, talked to some Environmental Health sector volunteers, read some of a book titled The Humanure Handbook, and decided to go with a composting toilet.

Now please know that the system that we are about to describe is tailored to our needs and does not follow exactly any of the systems that Peace Corps or The Humanure Handbook recommend. However, we did keep a healthy respect for all of the sanitary and pathogen related issues involved. We carefully used the concepts taught by those respected sources to try to make a system that was going to be safe, sanitary, and yield pathogen-free results while fitting the needs of our housing site.

First, what is compost? Compost is the process of using the soil’s normal microorganisms to eat organic materials (plant based products like leaves, coffee grounds, grass, paper, sticks, vegetable waste, manures, etc.) and turn them into rich healthy soil. Normally composting is done by putting together a pile of organic matter so that the pile has the right conditions to encourage those microorganisms to be happy, multiply rapidly, and thus to eat more organic materials. When the conditions are right the microorganisms actually produce heat from all of their liveliness and this heat can kill weed seeds and pathogens in the compost pile.

Why use human waste in a compost pile? Well, any gardener or farmer can tell you that manure is good for plants and the health of the soil. If you look at the main nutrient (nitrogen, phosphorus, and sodium or NPK) values contained in various types of manure, horse and cow are good but chicken poo has very high values. Well, human manure has values comparable to a chicken in sodium and phosphorus. Nitrogen is higher in chicken poo…but that is found in human urine. So all told our waste has real potential for being a valuable source of fertilizer. Also, humanure is abundant (each adult produces roughly ½ lb. a day) and easily available. It does need to be treated to kill any pathogens that could spread illnesses before use…but cow and horse manure should also be composted to kill weed seeds that are capable of growing after a trip through the animal.

So what did we do? We purchased a 55-gallon barrel with removable lid (very similar to our old grease collection barrels from our greasecar system back in Maryland, if you ever saw those), cut a hole, attached a seat,

ran a funnel and tube to separate the urine (as recommended in a large collection system like ours, whereas smaller 5-gallon systems like in The Humanure Handbook do not separate), got a few sacks of sawdust (both fine, from a woodshop, and large, from a chainsaw),

and went about our business. The idea is that after every deposit you cover the poo with dry organic material to balance moisture and to prevent insect interest. The organic cover material also prevents odors. I know it is hard to believe, but you could stand next to our tank and either smell nothing or a slight smell of damp sawdust on humid days. We had very few problems with odors or insects…much less than the typical pit latrine (and we now have plenty of pit latrine experience for comparing).


After a couple of months, we started asking at the store where we’d bought the barrel about getting a second, with the idea that when the first filled, we’d swap the lid/seat, cap the full one and let it sit for six months or so in the sun to compost and kill all the bad stuff.

But even after trying all over town for 3 months, we had no luck tracking down a second barrel with a lid like the first to fit our system. We finally decided we need another solution, so we did some more research, read some more in The Humanure Handbook about what it takes to make it safe, and decided to use our tank’s contents in a bocachi compost pile. Bocachi is actually a Japanese term for a fast compost process (typically resulting in usable compost in 3-4 weeks vs the 12-20 weeks of a normal compost pile) that generates some high heat almost immediately. Amongst the recipes are several that use estericol (manure), typically from cow, horse, or chicken, but we figured (based on nutrient levels) we could use ours too.

So we set about collecting the other ingredients (measuring in gallons because 5-gallon buckets are used for everything here and thus form a basic measurement unit in the field):
· already had the sawdust and estericol mixed together (we estimate a mix of 1/3 poo and 2/3 sawdust in our tank), about 40-45 gallons;
· banana tree (chopped), about 10 gallons;
· dirt (for the microorganisms), about 5-8 gallons;
· ash and charcoal (slightly larger, not fully burned to ash), about 5-10 gallons;
· yeast (to actively grow), about three-quarters of a pound;
· a molasses-type mixture made from raspadura, which is sugar-cane pucks, about 5 gallons;
· and balo leaves, balo being a tree that is commonly used for fences here in Panama because when a branch is cut off, it can be stuck an inch in the ground and it will grow. Balo is also a plant that is known for having insect repellent properties and it fixes nitrogen and its leaves are very high in nitrogen which is good for compost piles (the sacks of leaves we collected were very warm to the touch within a day). My guesstimate for collection of enough balo was that I could do it in one morning; it took two days, with April helping the second day. We collected an estimated 120 lbs. of balo leaves.

We also collected, with permission of the owner, some left-over side boards from when folks cut down teak trees and chainsawed them into boards. We used these, along with screen material, nails and wire, to build a “box” for our pile, which according to the “special fast bocachi” directions, needed to be 8-inches off the ground to get proper air circulation for heating up. Air circulation is important because the microorganisms we wish to encourage are aerobic…they use oxygen. There are also anaerobic (without oxygen) microorganisms that compost, you can tell the difference between the two because anaerobic microorganisms release an ammonia smell. Aerobic (oxygen users) microorganisms are preferred…thus most compost is turned occasionally to admit oxygen and stored in ways that allows airflow.

To further ensure proper circulation throughout the pile (which is to be 3-feet square and 4-feet tall), April drilled holes in 1” PVC tubing we had left over from construction and we placed these in the middle as we filled the box.

Finally we had everything ready and “rolled out the barrel” to begin the mixing process. We shoveled out the sawdust/poo mixture.

As you can see, it just looked like sawdust and there was no smell beyond a faint earthy sawdust-y odor. Other than the top (most recent) layer, everything we encountered was sawdust or dried hard (think a cow patty on the Great Plains). (For the most part, we did like most places with flush toilets here in Panama and bagged then burned our TP; there was a week or two when we put the TP in the tank, but we never found that layer when emptying the tank. It had totally composted and disappeared; it looked like nothing other than sawdust.)

As I shoveled in the sawdust and carefully broke up the few lumps, April added the other ingredients.

We shoveled, stirred, and added some water to get the proper consistency (the directions said to grab a handful and see if it clumped right, but I think they were working with other types of estericol. We gauged by eye, based on lots of past composting experience not clump.) It was a large pile. Too large, we wondered?

Then we began to shovel into the box, with April holding the PVC tubes upright. It fit perfectly.

The next morning, April put her hand over the top of the tubes, to see if it was heating up like promised. A definite hot breeze of air was coming out of the tubes.

They say it will be ready in about three weeks, but we’ll give it a bit longer just to be safe. Research on common human pathogens indicates that we need about a 14 days (week then turn and a week more) at our compost pile’s normal temperature to kill the bad stuff. If you have doubts about this please refer to chapter 7 of the Humanure Handbook available at: http://www.jenkinspublishing.com/downloads/PDF_all%20chapters/Chapter_7.pdf
After it is done we plan to dig a garden bed, pour it in, cover with a thick layer of dirt, plant some seeds, and a while later, hopefully enjoy the best, biggest, tomatoes ever. Other volunteers who have done composting toilets report that tomatoes love the finished compost and we love tomatoes.

If you are interested in knowing more about using human waste in compost please check out the Humanuare Handbook by Joseph Jenkins which is available online for free at: http://www.jenkinspublishing.com/humanure.html yes, you can buy one...but scroll down and you find editions available for download for free. Great book...I think you can look forward to composting toilets at the Cropper house in the States in future years. (I hope that won´t keep you from visiting!)

Last night's noisy visitor

There was a gnawing sound coming from the end of our porch last night.

We took the flashlights and cautiously approached.

We listened.

We finally heard the sound, coming from between us.

In the pile of split bamboo, waiting to become a wall.

Carefully, I pulled pieces of the pile away, wondering if I would reveal the world's largest scorpion or some other creepy-crawly.

Finally, it appeared!

(blue-orange crab in bamboo slats on our porch)

Later, we heard a noise in the back room, a scratching on the plastic 5 gallon barrels we store drygoods in. And sure enough, he'd made his way in there. I chased him out and off the porch, hoping he'll dig a hole away from the house (and hoping our neighbors don't catch him too quickly).

It is odd, the crabs really went away during the summer/dry season (January thru March), but the rain restarted this week, and it seems almost immediately, they've returned. We've found smaller ones walking around the floor and up on the shower walls. I'm not sure why they are so attuned to the rains, but ones like this at least are a colorful addition when the days go grayer, even if they can be a scary addition in the darker nights.

First Time out of Santiago

Last week, I took our 15-year-old neighbor to another volunteer's site to work on an estufa lorena junta. It was his first time outside of Santiago (our provincial capital) and in fact, his first time to even spend the night there. It was also his first time in the mountains, even though there are others only about an hour bus ride north of Santiago.

We caught a bus out of Santiago heading east for the three-hour ride and I gave him the window seat. I could remember my first ride across Panamá, and even having watched out the window as the American Mid-West, the Red Center of Australia, central Europe, and Patagonian Chile had rolled past, it was still exciting, everything new. I can only imagine his thoughts as he watched huge fields of sugar cane zip by; the mountains slowly approach, grow large, and then recede behind us; and he saw his country, beyond the one hour small-bus trip from port to Santiago, for the first time. At one point, he hit my arm and pointed. "Look at that river!" I didn't think it huge, but it was probably twice as wide as any other he'd seen.

The other volunteer, who lives in the mountains, with a beautiful view, was working with her

community members to build six estufas in six days. While there, we stayed in her house and he got the chance to chat with other Americans and a broader view of who we are (and how well we speaking Spanish) than just April and I can provide. During the day, we worked with about ten of her community members on sifting and mixing materials (soil, sand, and estericol - horse poo), building the form, packing the mix, and then carving out the stove. Throughout the junta, he got the chance to talk with other Panamanians and learn how similar and different life is in other parts of his country.

(Julian on the point just outside Steph's house, with El Valle lost in the clouds behind the rock spire)

(Julian carving out the mouth of the stove; the first "burner" is beginning to take shape on top)

We worked on two of the estufas, then returned to Santiago for the night before catching an early bus to the port for a ride back to the island. Unable to find anyone in town to stay with, we ended up at the hotel that April and I usually stay in. I was afraid it would give him an impression that we have a lot of money (and compared to his family, we do), but I figured a "fancy" night out would be okay - hot water shower, cable TV.

Ironically, when I told him how many more channels were on this TV than the small B&W in his house, he changed the channel once, and stopped on a basketball game. From the US. With the original English commentary.

After a few minutes of talking over the game (which the channel had switched to baseball, still in English), he asked if it was dark out. I said yes, and asked if he had seen the city in the dark. He hadn't, so we went for a walk. I'm not sure it was what he expected - loud and dusty, relative to the island. We did stop in the supermarket, which he'd never visited, and saw toys, clothes, and food that was all new, and bought some apples.

I hope I didn't overwhelm him, I hope I didn't show him a life he becomes jealous of, but I hope I did show him some of what else is available out there in the world, beyond the island, beyond Santiago, and how much there is that is different, but also how wonderful, how familiar, how beautiful, it can be.

Easter

(Kevin here, although April uploaded the pictures first, so the post is attributed to her.)

We are aware that Easter passed a few weeks ago, but sometimes it isn't easy to get time on-line to post right away. So here is Easter in the island.

Similar to Christmas and New Years, it wasn't what we expected. It seemed nobody did much to observe Easter Sunday (there was no mass on the island), but I was nailing together our bambu wall on Good Friday, and a neighbor came by and after a few minutes of kind chit-chat, mentioned that they don't work, cook, ride horses, or anything on Good Friday. I got the distinct impression I should cease making a racket. But it was nothing like a Good Friday observance I'd ever heard of from the Catholic church.

Sundays are our English class days, but we asked some of our main attendees ahead of time if we should skip class on Easter Sunday. She said pretty much no, of course not, why would you?

So we decided it was a good time to teach colors.

Mom Cropper had sent along some egg-dying kits, and we shared some American culture with those who came to class that day, trying to explain in Spanish what a rabbit has to do with chocolate, eggs, fake plastic grass, and coloring the eggs. (We totally omitted what it might have to do with Christ's resurection.)

Using a solar-heater for the water (putting a Camelback in the sun) and a bit of vinegar purchased specially for the purpose, we managed to produce some impressive dyes.

(Looking down on the dying cups, eggs, and dyers)

Unfortunately, we had been at a 15th birthday party the night before on the south side of the island (the 15th is a huge deal here, almost like Sweet Sixteen I guess), so we hadn't had time to boil the eggs.

There was only one causualty, one that was fully decorated around the outside with crayon. But we had one more spare, and she was able to redraw her masterpiece and go home happy.

(Some finished, some still being drawn upon)

Oh, and we did manage to teach the colors (mostly; there must have been some confusion about which dye was which when the one on the left labeled "blue" was dipped, but the "Blue" on the right is right on).