Thursday, April 1, 2010

Something Beautiful

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So, you want to know more about what I got upto in Haiti? Let's go to school.....




What do you get with 2 plastic tanks, bits of plastic pipe, water, an old stove, a box of tools and cow dung? Something beautiful. This is how you can feed the masses with piping hot food powered by that funky stuff.....

Start with as much cowfunk as possible. The more the smellier.......I mean, the better:




Start pouring the gunky stuff into a big mixing barrel in order to mix with an equal share of water:




Mixing implement of choice, a shovel:





You don't beleive me?! See how it's done:

















Gentle (you don't want a funky splashback, now do you?) but firm stirring:




To get the texture right. The dung-water mixture activates the methane producing bacteria:






When satisfied with the consistency of the mix, pour it into a water tank cut-out (no, don't try this at home with papier mâché)....and the half water jug at the end is for topping up in the coming weeks: 



Fill her up.....





Until it's about a third full......





The magic has just begun, the good bacteria (the good guys) is happily producing methane and starting to kill the pathogenic bacteria (the bad guys) - the resulting effluent is good as a fertiliser:





Hope you can wait a bit longer until dinner. Now, cover it up with a smaller water tank cut-out to keep the methane in as it is formed and to contain large amounts of it:





The entrepreneurs that AIDG is training, Roger (on the left) and Raphael (middle). Isnido, AIDG handyman extraordinaire (on the right):






Fitting in the gas outlet pipe and valve (to be able to get some of that gas out when needed):





Now time to make it work. Moving on to another site, the Domus Seminary, where a different biodigester has been producing for a while. Setting up the flexible hose. From left to right, Isnido, Roudelin (AIDG Manager at Cap Haïtien) and Steve (AIDG Director of Operations):





Fitted but not quite ready yet...

















It needs to be suspended above ground so that the goats, chickens and dogs wondering around don't bleat/peck/bark up the wrong "tree":









A lil bit of impro to capture water to prevent gas blockage...




Now, for the business end. We need to find a route for the pipe into the kitchen. Isnido is on the case.....





Whoops.....





Now we need to get it in here.....


















PVC tape, to keep it air tight.......




Plug it in!





Good to go!








And now.....






Turn the tap.....


















Light it up!






Mo' fire! A bright red flame means that the gas is rich, and that the LPG stove is well modified for this baby.....






Soeur Delima was ecstatic (nope, I exaggerate.....I just didn't focus the camera well). But she was really excited by the prospects of replacing expensive charcoal.










The gas level lowers slowly in the tank (not as dramatic as you think):





And continues as the flame burns on the other side....





Now for the best part, cooking!!!








It will still take a while to fully replace the belching charcoal stove...





Up till my departure from Haiti I helped out in planning, monitoring, and maintenance of these biodigester pilot projects.

K.



Saturday, March 6, 2010

Fort Picolet

One of the gems of Cap Haitien is Fort Picolet. It one of the many little fortifications that Roi Christophe built during his reign. It has fallen into disrepair over the decades but, just like the magnificent Citadelle Laferrière, it was built with thick walls, elaborate turrets, hidden passageways and on a hard to access location on a headland. Even today there is only one way to get there by foot from the city and that is not always guaranteed.





It takes 15 - 20 minutes to get there depending on how slow your Caribbean pace is. Beyond the relatively posh Carenage, where the AIDG office is, it is the city limits, if you look at the original colonial plans of the city. But, true to the spirit of unplanned city immigration, there are clusters of houses on the left hand side of the path along the steep and  rugged coastline towards the fort. And they are stacked like Jenga blocks due to this lack of space. Most are incomplete so on Sundays you see families lounging in the incomplete room / terrace (however you want to look at it). Hair braiding, dominos, sipping soft drinks,enjoying the sea spray and listening to the lapping waves of the Atlantic waters is the order of the day. A rather romantic take on it, I can only talk about my experiences of day-to-day life vividly, but in this and future blogs you might get a better visualisation, with some anecdotes that won't exactly be picture perfect but close.



Most of the path is dirt track. A striking observation on the left side at the beginning of the walk is a plot of used land fenced out with thick and elaborate concrete, with quality plaster patterns and what looked like moulded romanesque jugs. Within the plot, just wild grass, a scattering of rocks and broken cinder blocks. A tale of 2 sides of the road. Outraged at such a waste of effort, someone explained to me that a wealthy musician had attempted to build a mansion there but simply just stopped. The jury is out on why that was so. Best guess is that he had to flee Haiti, money run out or there was an issue with the local authority. Otherwise it looks like squatters delight, if it was accessible.



The dirt path does a sharp wind to the left as it hugs the remains of another fortification that complements Picolet. The canons remain, of the short variety similar to those of the Citadel, designed for high trajectory shots on invading ships. It is a perfect location to have them. The highest point on the coastline with a fantastic view of Cap Haitien port, makes it easy to pick out targets. A far cry from it now, I saw an old man enjoying a nap inside one of them. And before you start thinking mischeiviously, the canons are inoperable.  Some are stuffed with concrete.



Dotted along the way are original fortification walls made of a combination of what looks like coral and limestone.  In fact, right at the bottom of the incline one sees a small box shaped rampart reclaimed by some squatter providing reclusive shelter from the seawater and maybe anything that would tumble down the hill. I have done this route many times but each time I see something new. Once I saw people standing aside as one guy walked up the path brandishing what looked like a gun. One bystander told me to be careful as he not sure if this young fella has his brain unhinged. I kept my distance but was a bit puzzled as the dude looked really relaxed and casual. He then disappeared into an alleyway through the informal houses down to the beach, where I saw him meet some friends with a fishing boat. I think he had just obtained a real gun and was about to modify it into a harpoon trigger. I didn't understand the bravado of his swagger and why he didnt conceal it. Odd.



One has to be weary of the silent motorbikes. To save fuel people coast down the downhill section, and you have to watch out for them. Other than that it's just "out of town" stares from local folks and wandering goats looking for succulent fodder. Just before the Fort, there are some little hotels, private and exclusive looking houses, and a public beach. People come here to unwind from the madness of the paperchase in the City. Groups of friends and lovers come chill out. The beachfront suffers from a backwash of plastic bottles and pretty much all things plastic. All the crap washing out of the dumpsites and big creek further east in Okap (Cap Haitien) into the bay gets washed up onto random locations during storms and especially high tides.






The next challenge is past the end of the beach. One has to time the arrival at the fort really well; when the tide is about to get to its lowest. There was an all-tide all-weather stone path from the beach onwards, but erosion and destruction by falling cliff rocks happen during the hurricane season  and heavy rains so at some points you have the option of getting wet or getting pricked by a thorn bush. And then you have all those plastic bottles to walk over. And dont get me wrong, despite the plastic eyesore the water is pleasant to swim in. Some rocks are laid out in the water to barricade any large debris. Though a thorough shower later is recommended just in case. If you have seen the things floating on Okap creek, around the Petit Ince area, before heading the Fort you will know what I mean!





Typically I always mistimed the tides. Also if there has been a rainstorm the night before the water levels will be even higher and rougher. So stone skipping and waterlogged shoes guaranteed. A final climb up to the fort. The difficult accessibility of the place reminds me of that castle from that movie "Where Eagles Dare" (I just imagined myself escaping the place as it blew up, all guns blazing like Clint Eastwood!). At high tide, the only way out is bushwhacking up the hill to who knows where or taking a plunge into the rough Atlantic. If you don't think those are good enough options, there is always the old rusty (made of steel) and abandoned lighthouse to send an SOS out to sea, that's if it doesn't collapse or if the ship captain out at sea would answer it. Like the other major sites, there are some traces of its original use, a spattering of unused canons, worn out canon balls.








The irony gets even more cringeworthy. On one occasion I went on my own and just sat on one of the outer walls, legs dangling over the rocks getting constantly battered by invading waves. I looked out at sea, contemplating life in Haiti, listening to the Fugees album - The Score! Looking at a map, one realises that it is bloody hard for a Haitian refugee to get to Florida without any navigation charts. You would have to make sure that the winds don't take you to Guatanamo Bay in Cuba or land you on an uninhabited Bahamas Island would completely defeat the purpose of the quest for a better life.





The ship traffic into Cap Haitien port is not of Rotterdam or Yokohama proportions but it's always fascinating seeing a freight liner depart slowly across the bay and get smaller and smaller on the horizon. The channel  between southern Cuba and northern Haiti is relatively busy with freight traffic and cruise liners. When I left Haiti, I just missed out on the arrival of the largest cruise ship in the world, the "Oasis of the Seas". It makes a ceremonial "arrival" in a tourism enclave called Labadie a couple of kilometres West of Fort Picolet as the crow flies. Speaking of "ceremonial", a little birdie told me that every main monument in Haiti attracts Voodoo adherents. On the way out of the Fort I spotted a shrine.


K.

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