It's been said of me with more frequency than I like to recall. About 10% of the time, it's true. Day 4 if the build was one such time. I burned my hand days before I was to leave Oz and I dropped a kitchen knife on my foot about a week before that but since then, I've been good. Day 4 was supposed to be the relatively fun day, where I got to go to the community farm and make bricks. I almost ended up in the fish pond, did send a shovel flying and managed to spend the afternoon tea time on in the doctors office.
The farm is run on land purchased by Habitat but managed by an Australian NGO (International Childrens Care Australia) with the community. There is a 5 year handover plan but it provides training and income for the community. The guys who ran it were sweethearts and the locals were incredibly patient with these groups of clueless Western desk jockeys.
The farm uses traditional Cambodian farming methods, including ploughing and raking with oxen teams (a form of Brahma cow), composting soil, using bamboo stakes in the gardening, and using traditional fishing nets on the fish farm. The farm currently grows a number of veggies and we helped plant bean seedlings (well, not me - I wouldn't inflict my black thumb on the poor unsuspecting things). I did drive the oxen cart to collect the compost, helped shovel the compost, and helped spread and work in the compost with a hoe. I also plow-surfed (I'm told its really called raking). The corn was recently harvested. I've specifically included a photo of me here shovelling compost for the amusement of my donors.
The farm also raises chicken for sale. We were told it is too hard to keep them for eggs because of avian flu risks. There appears to be no cohesive nationwide program to eradicate it. There is also a fish farm, which is fished using traditional weighted nets. There are also traditional canoes made from hollowed trees.
We got a chance to throw out the nets. They are quite heavy and it is harder than it looks. I came very close to falling in! A few minutes after my near miss, one of the local cops was inspired to give it a go. Unlike me, he did fall in! Shoes, mobile phone, and all. The locals were killing themselves laughing. I asked one of the ICC guys if anyone had fallen in before. "Not until now."
Lunch was its usual mystery mix except this time, I guessed incorrectly and ended up eating pork. I was fine for about a hour into the brick making before I had to leave the site and head to the doctor. He made me lie down in front of a cool fan with an icy cloth on my face and he gave me anti-nausea tablets. I stayed there until it was time to go back to the hotel.
However, I did get in an hour of brick making before that. I started by prepping the metal molds that make about 8 full-sized mud bricks. Prepping included scraping off the remnants of old bricks and painting the inside of the molds with diesel oil (just like greasing a big muffin pan). Then, a delivery of mud mix arrives and the mold is set on a tarp and watered. The mix is poured into the mold and tamped down, smoothed and grooved on one side. After awhile the mold can be removed, leaving the bricks to dry. They can then be moved to a curing area where they effectively bake in the sun.
The mix is sand, cement, local soil and water shoveled into huge mixmasters (bowl-type cement mixers). I had loaded up a shovel full of sand to put in the mixer, but because it was too heavy for me, the tip of the shovel blade got caught by the mixmaster blade, ripping the shovel out of my hands and sending it flying. Fortunately, no one was in its flight path and I kept my shovel loads smaller after that.
Upon repeating the days events to my husband, he was somewhat dismayed by my near misses. We all came through it alive, including me (although it was a few days until I was over the tummy bug).
Yup...I was dismayed. JD
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