Breaking Ground(s)

They say you're supposed to measure twice, cut once. Whoever came up with that obviously never worked in Mali. Here it's likely to turn out double: measure 4 times, cut twice. At least that's how it happened at the groundbreaking in Tongo.

The Mayor didn't show up (he now says he's coming to lay the first brick...), but we kicked off nonetheless. We measured the footprints of the buildings manually by tying strings to metal rods and stretching them across the ground, using geometric cunning to make sure the lines were square:




Once the area was marked, pick axes and shovels sent dirt flying as a team of volunteers from the village got to work digging the foundation.











All the construction materials arrived in Tongo. We unloaded the truck and took an inventory:






Everything came that we ordered, but upon further inspection we deduced that the number of metal roof sheets (determined by the supplier) would not be enough to cover both buildings. We could either pay for a few more sheets plus their transportation from Bamako to Tongo, which would put us over budget, or we could reduce the size of the classrooms. We chose the latter and set about re-measuring the building footprint, filling in the old, and digging the new.



As an architect, I'm quickly learning an important lesson regarding when to accede to changes and when to stick to my guns and uphold the original design. At this point, the school that will be built is, in physical appearance, far from what I initially imagined but, in concept, still right on the mark. Due to limitations in the technical skills of the construction workers in Mali, as well as budgetary considerations, we've changed many of the details of the design such as using concrete columns instead of I-beams, sitting the roof directly on the wall instead of raising it up, etc. The key concepts (sustainability, cost-effectiveness, transfer of technical skills) are still manifest in the use of compressed bricks, rainwater harvesting, and training of members of the village.
We are also 'breaking ground' in another sense. BuildOn specifies that 15 men and 15 women from the village work each day. However, Tongo is a Muslim village and the men were initially not comfortable with the idea of their wives leaving their household chores to assist with the school construction. After several meetings with the village elders, we came to a compromise that the women would be responsible for supplying water for the work site. This means working along side the men to draw water from the well, fill up large barrels, and generally keep water in stock. So not only is this the first use of compressed bricks and rainwater harvesting in the area, it's a small step toward woman's empowerment in Tongo.

The date is set

At only 19 days off schedule (or 2 years, depending on how you count), we've set the date for the groundbreaking ceremony for this Wednesday. The Mayor of Cinzana will come for a quick photo opp, we'll all eat some rice, and work will begin! The windows and doors are finally all finished and making their way to Tongo as I type. We have 12,954 bricks and 900 bags of cement. We've got a full work force lined up and on the starting line. It's go time.

(ps I got a new camera so pictures galore are coming soon!)

Just call me the camera killer

In the course of a week, I managed to break Kyle's camera (by trying to film a dust storm) and lose mine, so we are without photos until I can get another one. This means I can't show you pictures of the 5000+ bricks we've made so far. Just imagine an ocean where each wave is a single brick. There's a pier at one end, which is actually a giant stack of bricks. In the foreground is the brick press, it's arm like the mast of a ship, diligently churning out brick after brick.
This is the scene in Tongo now as we prepare to start the foundation and really get going with construction. Excitement is in the air (along with frequent dust storms - cameras beware!)

Enter Sandman

With over 2000 bricks and counting, we've begun preparing for work on the foundation by bring truckloads of sand and gravel to the site.




Group Jaba-Ji (Onion Sauce) is still in the lead, although Tiga-Diga is inching closer. More as it happens!

Peanut Butter vs. Onions

Brick making has officially begun and is now in full swing! The first 3 days were spent training men in the village how to use the machine and how to properly mix the dirt, sand, and cement.




The first brick! (Isn't it beautiful?)






After the training, the men were divided into 3 teams, which I nicknamed: 1) Group Tiga-Diga Na (Peanut Sauce), 2) Group Jaba-Ji (Onion Sauce), and 3) Group Saga-Saga (Leaf Sauce). The teams would alternate days to split up the work and would compete with each other to see which could make the most bricks in a day and overall.

Meet the dream team: Group Jaba-Ji. After Tiga-Diga set the bar high at 372 bricks the first day, Jaba-Ji took the reigns the second day:


They worked with enthusiasm and gusto and by the end of the day turned out a whopping 378 bricks!


Then they took a much deserved break:

When I left this morning we'd made just over 1,000 bricks and counting. Only 11,000 more to go!

Flying Buttresses!

We got the brick press to Tongo in the back of a truck, and have successfully "installed" it on the work site.  This consisted of cementing it into the ground so it won't wiggle around.  Now it needs to cure for a few days, then we'll start training the village on how it works!

Look familiar?  Yes, those are the leftover bricks from the well project, being used as flying buttresses.  I also see a striking resemblance to another structure....

The Epic of the Brick Press

We found another brick press! 

It seems that we've actually gone full circle, finally locating the brick press of a time long ago. I don't think I've ever told this story on the blog, so it seems time to share the epic of the brick press:

It all started in February 2008. But I didn't know that at the time. I didn't start really planning this school project until at least April. I was curious if Malians knew about compressed bricks (if you don't know what they are at this point, please educate yourself).  I started asking around if anyone knew of construction that had been done or brick presses that might be in use in the country.  I met a mason who told me he'd used one once, many years ago, while working for someone named George Samake, but he had no idea how to contact him now.  A month or two went by without finding him before I registered that George is an odd name for someone in Mali, unless he is a Christian and thereby associated with the Catholic mission.  So off I went to the catholic mission and after a few weeks of missed connections, I finally found George.  Yes, he had done a project with compressed bricks about ten years ago. Did he still have the machine?  No, he had rented it from a friend named Joe Kieta.  Can I get in touch with Joe?  Sorry, Joe died five years ago.

...but his wife, Madame Kieta, works in town at the bureau "gene rural" (pronounced in french).  So off I went to the bureau "general" (my french is still a little faulty), where there was no one by that name.  I did, however, encounter Madame Kieta's sister (!), who led me across the street to the correct office.  Yes, Joe was her late husband.  Yes, she had a brick press!  I got her number and we agreed to meet the next week to look at the machine, which was collecting dust in her back yard.

That weekend I attended a wedding for Adama's wife's sister, who was marrying a man named Yaya, who turned out to be a contractor.  Has he ever worked with compressed bricks?  Yes.  Does he know where we could find a brick press?  Yes, he has one in Koutiala.  Can he give us a good price?  Agreed.  I called Madame Kieta to tell her thanks, but we're going with someone else.  

Fast forward to April, 2010.  We're ready to start making bricks when the deal with the press falls through (remember Blacky?).  So I go back to the bureau "gene rural" (the correct one this time) to find old Madame Kieta.  Yes, she still works there.  No, she doesn't have the machine anymore.  She's sold it to a guy named Alou Kieta.  No, she doesn't have his number.  Dead end.

Rewind all the way back to February 2008.  I attended an architecture conference in Bamako about building with dirt.  Here I met a man who worked with compressed bricks and who gave me a brochure for his organization.  I put it in a folder and forgot about it. Until yesterday.

Fast forward (is this making you dizzy?) back to 2010.  Racking my brain to find another lead on a brick press, I suddenly remember this brochure.  I pull it out, blow off the dust, and who's name, phone number, and email are written on the front?  Alou Kieta.  I call him and meet with him that same day; he's easy to work with, gives us a great price, and voila! We have a brick press.