Textures of Pun Pun

In preparation for the final plaster and painting of the yoga/meditation center, we took a tour of the buildings at Pun Pun to look at different colors and textures and to talk about finishing techniques. Here are some shots from around the farm showing previous experiments with earth plasters and paints...

Window of the intern dorm


Some shots of the VIP guesthouse...




A final plaster with a lot of coarsely chopped straw, for texture.

Dtang's room.

Jo and Peggy's house

Another shot of Jo and Peggy's

An experiment with coarse sand in the final plaster: if the sand isn't fine enough then the plaster tends to crack off. Looks cool though...


The bathroom

If you look closely in the next one you'll see a big crack running through the wall. The bathroom walls were an experiment to see if an adobe wall can withstand direct rain. The top of the wall was sealed with a linseed oil - bees wax mixture (see photo just above).

The parts of the wall just exposed to rain have done fine. The crack and subsequent erosion of the wall occurred because of water being channeled by the thatch roof onto a small area.



Shelves in the office


Shelves in the kitchen...


Pun Pun logo on the office


In and around the intern quarters...



A cob bench


Bottle decorations in my room



Leah contemplates the perfect ratio of sand to clay...

Plastering and earthen floor

Some photos showing the completed first layer of earth plaster -- we'll do one more coat of plaster, then seal and paint...











Leah spreading sand and gravel to provide the base for the floor

Pi Dtai uses the tamper to set the gravel/sand subfloor

Laying down the first layer of earth flooring

Hadar is an expert at this...

Pi Dtai's last words of wisdom about building (or "dancing," as he calls it) while we admire the freshly laid earthen floor


Brant contemplates our work

Go ahead! Experiment with my life!

Remember those cheesy “choose your own adventure” novels? I used to read those a bunch when I was a kid. I was kind of a dorky kid that read fantasy novels like Lord of the Rings and I was all into those choose-you-own-adventure books. Can you believe I was a nerdy kid? Seems crazy, I know. But there you go. I also built model airplanes and hung them from the ceiling of my room with fishing line. So I guess I am a first-class dork-wad.

Anyway, for a long time I have thought of my life like one of those books, a kind of living experiment in seeing what happens next. And since adolescence the organizing principal of the experiment of my life – the central research question, in other words – has been: “How far can I coast on charm?”

Well, I just spent several hours updating my CV, which forced me to look back over all the places I have been and what I have done. I think at this point I can put my research question to rest and declare the field closed to further inquiry: Apparently I can, in fact, coast a helluva long way on charm.

While it’s pleasing to have a result that I know I can rely upon, I’m left with a vacuum – a void – while I come up with another research question I can apply my life to. Since Nature supposedly abhors a vacuum, I thought, why not frame up a couple of research scenarios and put the question to the community?

So here you go: Go ahead, experiment with my life!

I was put on this planet to shake things up – not just to sit around and fart and pick my nose and complain about popular culture, although I do those things quite a bit. I’m here to leave a mark on society and on the planet, for better or for worse, but definitely a distinct mark of some kind, even if it’s a sort of greasy stain or unseemly discoloration.

By the way, as for this bit about “being put here to shake things up” … I don’t know if any of this is true or not. I don’t know what is true or isn’t, or even what truth is. I’ve just about completely given up the search for Truth. I’m much more concerned about what “works,” what is “effective,” what “feels good,” and is “groovy.” Call me a Sophist if you will: I can’t take any more high-minded, supposedly pure, idealized Socratic verbosity about Ultimate Truth.

In fact, my life is a game that I find immense pleasure in playing. The game I am currently playing is called transformation. How it’s played is I have to work out how to most effectively cause transformation for many, many people. To cause transformation in the lives of many, many people means helping them to make their lives a lot more groovy, in a big way, that sticks.

OK, so let me explain some things…

Transformation is a quantum shift in grooviness. To Transform myself means to make my life a lot more groovy. Like, way more groovy, not just a little bit nicer. So much nicer, in fact, that after the quantum jump my previous way of being is almost completely unrecognizable from my new level of quantum grooviness. I mean this quite literally. Electrons do this kind of thing all the time – one minute they are in one energy level, and then POOF! the next moment they are in a completely different energy level. I’m not making this up. The crazy thing is that they are never between energy levels. So how do they get from one to the next? Quantum mechanics: weird properties of matter that make no sense to us because we cannot detect their effects at our normal scale of life.

So all I am doing here is applying rudimentary principles of quantum theory to my everyday life in effort to cause these quantum jumps in grooviness, which is just my term for how integrated I feel with the rest of the universe. Being in a state where I perceive my integration with the universe is synonymous with “feeling groovy.”

If you don’t like the term “groovy,” if it seems too hippy-dippy for you, you can substitute quality in its place. Quality describes a relationship you have with your self and your surroundings. It’s pre-intellectual in nature – that is, it’s not a tangible thing or a concept you can think about in the typical sense. It’s something that you know what it is when you experience it, but you don’t necessarily know how you know you know it.

So, being in a “groovy” state means being in a quality relationship with whatever you’re doing in the present. It means being there and really participating, having energy and attention and focus and connection with what’s going on. It means not being caught up in grief or drama or stories associated with the past; and it means not being preoccupied, anxious, worried and fearful about the future. In this state of being-in-the-present you can develop a quality relationship with your surroundings, including other people, and experience the freedom and peace that arise naturally when you are not identified with (caught up in) ego-generated pain and suffering.

Maybe this seems like I am getting “way out there.” So let me get to the point: If everyone, or not even everyone but, say, most people or even just a lot of people, felt this state of groovy integration – or quality, or presence, or whatever you want to call it – then we’d have no more wars and ecological devastation – these kinds of negative trips would be impossible, irrelevant, wouldn’t happen, wouldn’t even come into consideration, period, end-of-story. So there’s the motivation for dedicating my life to promoting quality and the general groove and helping to cause this kind of transformation in many, many people.

Get it?

Good. I’m glad we understand each other. Now, here’s where you come in:

Below I describe some more details about what I think transformation could look like, and two possible scenarios that I might go about, in playing The Game of My Life, to cause lots of groovy transformation, for many, many people.

Your job is to pretend you are reading one of those cheesy choose-your-own-adventure novels. You just got to the part where the Hero (me) has to decide whether to fight the fire-breathing dragon or the terrible sea monster. Only in this case the fire-breathing dragon is academia and the terrible sea monster is industrial agriculture. Yeah, that probably sounds confusing – but keep reading, you’ll see what I mean…

So, the overall question is:

“What strategy will I use for facilitating transformation?”

And more precisely, by transformation I mean:

A broad and deep shift in consciousness and lifestyle practices, on the part of many people, to ways of being that are nurturing and regenerative, in both social and ecological dimensions, and as distinct from the currently prevalent exploitive and destructive patterns.

And let’s start by dividing this question of strategy into two possible approaches, one termed the “academic-institutional” and the other one termed “local-grassroots.” By voting in the “comments” section of this blog, you can play choose-the-adventure from these two scenarios. I’ll tally the votes after a while and plot them on some kind of graph because I like to geek-out with numbers and make them into graphs. Then I’ll post the graph on this site so you can see which scenario wins out.

Be sure and put your name with your vote so that I can make sure each vote counts only once. And please feel free to leave commentary as well describing why you chose as you did.

Now for the scenarios…

Scenario One:

Should I finish a PhD and take a more academic and institutional approach to transformation, primarily through activities such as research and teaching with universities, non-profits, NGO’s etc.?

In this case, I would focus on economics and “development,” politics and globalization, and target upper-level decision-making structures (e.g. the UN, World Bank, universities, non-profits and think-tanks) to promote primarily top-down transformation.

This strategy would lend itself to city life and a “modern” lifestyle, probably involving a lot of travel and advanced technology.

Or,

Scenario Two:

Should I take a more local, hands-on, down-to-earth approach to transformation, through the creation of a small, primarily self-reliant homestead and organic farming community?

In this case I would work with others to build a model community that promotes health and a high quality-of-life, sense of place, ecological awareness, meaningful work, and nurturing values and character. It would be a practical experiment with small economics, possibly through participation in a CSA program. It would offer opportunities for teaching and research, though these would be aimed primarily at engaging, inspiring and empowering “regular” people (as opposed to shifting consciousness among “elites” as in the academic-institutional approach) such as high school and college students, churchgoers and other local community members, as well as workshop and short-course attendees, for example.

And, it would lend itself to a primarily rural lifestyle and involve growing most of the food consumed, producing on-site much of the consumer durables used, utilizing mostly on-site renewable energy sources, embracing more of a low-tech lifestyle, and existing in interdependence with the supporting ecosystem, surrounding community and local economy.

OK!

Please carefully consider these choices and how effective either path is likely to be in facilitating transformation, their respective pluses and minuses in terms of the learning and experience I’m liable to encounter along either path, as well as the probable implications for lifestyle and livelihood. Consider also how you might fit in to either plan – chances are you will be part of the transformation and your own level of quantum grooviness is at stake! Feel free to email me with clarifying questions.

And most especially, remember! You are experimenting with my life here! So choose wisely, and together we may acquire the One Ring of Grooviness and rule all of Middle Earth, forever and ever…

I have seen ghosts

Last weekend we were visited by a group of seventeen students from a special school in Chiang Mai. These young people, mostly between the ages of twenty and thirty and representing several different indigenous ethnic groups, are refugees from Burma. The school that they attend is sponsored by an NGO that performs research and helps to organize peoples’ actions in response to large-scale “development” projects carried out by governments and multinational corporations (for example, dam projects similar to the Pak Mun Dam that I wrote about in an earlier post). The students are taking classes in topics that include environmental science, ecology and sustainability, the political history of Burma and Southeast Asia, economics and globalization, as well as human rights, social movements, nonviolence and gender issues.

A workshop in organic gardening with some of the students

I cannot tell you the names of the students, or show any pictures of their faces on this blog. Many of them had to flee violence and terror in Burma and thus have immigrated to Thailand “illegally,” without passports, visas or other “official” documentation. If the Thai government knew about their school they might conduct a raid, as they have done in the past, and the students could be arrested or deported back to Burma or to the refugee camps along the border of Burma and Thailand. Since many the students have been affiliated with groups that are resisting the actions of the Burmese government and military, and are thus considered “subversive,” if deported to Burma they could face imprisonment and torture there.

Julia teaching the finer points of compost

Aid organizations for Burmese refugees are illegal in Thailand – the teacher who brought the students to Pun Pun, a Westerner working for the NGO, is technically employed here illegally. The Thai government has had lucrative economic dealings with the Burmese government and so is not in the position to acknowledge the environmental and social destruction the Burmese have carried out through these dealings. But the Thais have begrudgingly made some provisions for refugee camps only under the urging of the international community.

Thus the young people I met this weekend are in effect ghosts – people without a country, without “papers” or official documentation, without citizenship and the rights that we take for granted – people who are not allowed simply to exist, anywhere, and have to receive their education and training clandestinely. They have fled a hostile environment for one somewhat less hostile – here in “democratic” Thailand they at least don’t face the beatings, torture and forced labor that are ever-present threats from the Burmese military. But only rarely can they venture beyond the walls of their school, and always then with the worry that they’ll be caught in a checkpoint and arrested or deported. So their overnight trip to Pun Pun was a very special treat.

An earth building workshop: having a blast in the mud pit

Burma is one of these countries that doesn’t make sense for it to all be one country. There are many different ethnic groups there with different cultures, different languages, different ways of life. The national government is a military dictatorship that frequently comes into violent conflict with different groups around the country vying for autonomy and self-determination. So there are various bands of militias that fight with the government troops, and villagers, hill tribes and other indigenous people are often caught in the middle.

Making adobe bricks

One of the techniques of the Burmese military – the SPDC, or State Peace and Development Council (how’s that for an Orwellian name?) – in carrying out large-scale development projects such as dams, mining, contract farming operations and natural gas pipelines has been to employ forced labor from the villagers. If the villagers don’t comply they can be beaten, raped, arrested, tortured, killed. In our discussion with the students we talked about how in some of their villages they were required to grow a particular variety of bean plant whose oil can be used to make bio-diesel. This crop displaced the villagers’ food crops, and when it was harvested was taken by the government without compensation. Villagers are often required to supply soldiers with food and shelter, build security fences, dig ditches, and perform other slavish tasks.

One of the students, a twenty-two year old hill tribe woman – call her “April” – told me of her family’s encounters with the SPDC. In 1996 her oldest brother was forced to work as a porter for the SPDC – he was made to carry ammunition, equipment, etc. for the soldiers on one of their incursions into the territory of a resistance group. He was killed in a battle between the SPDC and the militias. April herself – she was twelve years old at the time – was made to walk ahead of army convoys as a “sweeper.” She and another girl walked ahead of the battalions and trucks and swept the road for land mines. In 1997, April and her family fled Burma and have been living in a refugee camp on the Thai side of the border for the past ten years. She has only been able to leave the refugee camp three times over these ten years, most recently to attend the secret school.

April finished the 10th grade in the refugee camp in 2003, and then through a lucky meeting with a Westerner was able to apply for a scholarship to go to college in Canada. She was awarded the scholarship but could not attend because of immigration issues associated with her lack of official documentation. She was however, able to get a job as a researcher with the Burmese Women’s Union, a human rights NGO based in Chiang Mai. She is excited to go back to Burma later this spring (undercover, as it were) to conduct research for one month about the current conditions of some of the hill tribes. She hopes to be able to return to her village one day and establish a school there.

For all the anxiety and suffering April and her classmates have undergone in both Burma and Thailand, they are joyful, guileless and equanimous people. During their short time at Pun Pun we had discussions on organic gardening, natural building and the philosophical aspects of local self-reliance. We spent a morning working in the gardens and learning about compost, EM and other organic fertilizers. In the afternoon we made bricks and all worked together mud-plastering the yoga center. We climbed the hill above the community next door to see the pond and swales installed during a recent permaculture course.

The Burmese students ran around shouting and playing on the dam and in the empty pond. I was a bit startled at first by their exuberance but one student turned to me and said, “We never get to do this! Just run around and yell and play and be free this way! This is great!” It’s true – in the repressive atmosphere in Burma and in the secretive environment of their school they can’t run around and goof off and raise the dead with noise and games and laughing. They’ve had precious few opportunities in their lives to behave as proper young people. I’m glad that Pun Pun could provide a safe place for them to be free and relaxed and express themselves; I consider it an unparalleled blessing that I could be here to celebrate, share and learn with them.

If you want to learn more about the difficulties faced by indigenous people in Burma and efforts to promote human rights and a healthy environment there, see Earth Rights International.

Postscript

“April” was kind enough to email me the following essay to post – it’s a greater impact to read her story in her own words. (I have deleted some place and organization names for security.)

My River of Life

I am very grateful for this opportunity to speak out to the rest of the world about my River of Life. I believe it is important to share our stories, our problems, and our hopes.

In 1996, when I was eleven years old and I lived in my village in Burma, in (name deleted) Village in (name deleted) State, my family faced big difficulties: My oldest brother, who was forced to work as a military porter for the SPDC (the State Peace and Development Council - the illegal military dictatorship in Burma), sustained a terrible injury during a battle. Then both of my parents fell ill and nearly died. My mother got high blood pressure and my father had malaria. My older sister, my younger brother and I took care of our parents as there was no hospital to take them to. One morning I saw my sister was crying, she told me that “last night Daddy couldn’t breathe very well”. I was afraid my Dad would die. When we lived in the village we didn’t have enough medicine. My mother used to make medicine from tree roots and fruits from the forest. When the other villagers were unwell they came to my mother and asked her to make medicine for them. My mother always helped them, so when my family became ill the other villagers came to help us and we were never alone.

We all suffered in the village. There was not much to eat because our animals died and we couldn’t farm because we had to work for the SPDC every day. One day my mother asked me to work for the SPDC because every one else in my family was weak. I had to represent my family. At the first I didn’t want to go but I felt pity for my parents so I agreed to help and went to the military station with some other villagers. I had to sweep the road two times a day and stoke fires beside the road at night. The huts where we had to stay were far from our homes. At night I was very worried and afraid, and I missed my family and my friends. I cried every night. My aunt who was working with me was very kind to me and she encouraged me every day.

In 1997 the SPDC troops destroyed many villages and my village was destroyed too. The SPDC told every one they had to move by the end of April. At first we moved to another village called (name deleted) which is near to my village. We stayed there about two weeks but then the SPDC told us that the villagers in (name deleted) had to move too. Every villager was tired and angry at the troops but we could not refuse them. It was very difficult to move again and again. We didn’t have a car to carry our paddy (rice) or our furniture so it took a very long time. One night in May 1997 we fled our village and traveled to a refugee camp to try and get away from the military. We started our journey at about two o’clock in the morning so we didn’t draw attention to ourselves. Normally travel from our village to the refugee camp takes only two days, but it took us about three weeks because the military was in the area and we had to wait until they left. We arrived in the camp the end of the May and in June school started. I was pleased to learn that I could study until grade ten (equivalent to schooling to the age of 14 in the UK).

At first we lived in (name deleted) camp on the Thai-Burma border. In 2004 we had to move to (name deleted) camp because water flooded the camp. There were land slides and over twenty five refugees died. In [the refugee camp] we also had to face land slides in the rainy season, as our houses were on the mountain sides. Living in the refugee camp was uncomfortable. You felt like you were under house arrest, especially as the Thai authorities often changed the rules, but I felt better living in the camp than in Burma under the SPDC.

When I finished grade ten I wanted to continue my studies, but my parents weren’t able to help me. Refugee students face serious difficulties in their education. Many are very enthusiastic but we lack opportunity to make our lives better. We only have fish paste and bean curry to eat. We often feel weak as there is not much food and we feel that we don’t have hope for our future. We don't want to stay in the camp any more but we can't go back to our country, it is too dangerous. I was unable to earn money in the camp so I just prayed I would find a way out of the camp so I could study. Some people managed to leave the camp to go to another country to get better lives, but it is difficult and dangerous to live as an immigrant as other countries often don’t want you and you cannot find a job. Some people decided to go back to Burma despite the risks. I was confused about what I should do. My parents asked me to choose the best way for the family. They would permit me to leave the camp to go to another country, but when I said I wanted go back to Burma to my village and help the children with their education they wouldn’t allow me.

In 2005 I met volunteers from the UK who were visiting (name deleted) camp, they soon became my friends. They helped me to improve my English and offered me a scholarship at a college in Canada, but I was unable to take up the offer because of my status as a refugee. So I decided to apply for an internship at an organization in Thailand. On January 27th 2006 I arrived at the [Burmese women’s aid NGO] in Chiang Mai. The aim of this organization is to encourage young Burmese ladies to use their skills to engage with the issues affecting them and empower them to participate in making life better for Burmese women. [The NGO] invites women from different Burmese ethnic groups to join. There is no discrimination or divisions based on ethnicity. I studied political empowerment for four months. Through this internship I was given the chance to study at the (name deleted) School this year.

At [the NGO] and the (name deleted) School I have had an opportunity to study many things. When I was in the camp I thought that politics didn’t belong to young people or to women. Today I believe that everyone should participate in politics. It is important to know our country’s political situation. I have met many young people from Burma since I have left the refugee camp. Many of these people say that when we lived in Burma we weren’t able to talk about political issues, so we didn't know our country’s political situation very well. I was the same as them; I worked for the SPDC troops because I thought it was my family’s job to be the property of the SPDC.

Although I managed to get out of the refugee camp and live in Thailand I don't feel free. I feel that I am under house arrest again because we are illegal in this country and I don't have any documents, like many other Burmese refugees. I don’t want to go out because there are Thai police on the road and sometimes they stop people and ask questions. I usually go out only one or two times in a month because I’m afraid that police will arrest me, and I always worry about our security. I left my parents and younger brother in the camp. I don’t want to live away from them, but I need more knowledge so I have to forget them for a few years. I don’t know what will happen in the future.

I have been released from the SPDC’s torture but many people are still victims. I don't want to see my family, my friends or any one as the property of the SPDC any more. The SPDC must stop their violence in my country. I have been hoping for many years that we will get freedom. When I see young people from other countries and they look very free and happy I hope I will be able to be like them. Sometimes I can’t feel happiness because I am worried for myself, my family, and my people. We need to construct a peaceful country. Many Burmese people are thirsty for freedom. We need people from the rest of the world to support us to get freedom as soon as possible.

Let the earth plastering begin!