Examining our DIY composting toilet system

Given that toilets and sewage are something that most people – including myself for most of my life – never really think too much about, when I express just how much I am thankful for the idea of composting toilets, it probably sounds like a strange exaggeration. Composting toilets are not only environmentally sound, clean and functionally simple but they are also the most natural way (figuratively and metaphorically) to deal with human waste. Ours is particularly simple and that is its beauty, along with being inexpensive. Let’s have a look at what sorts of benefits that this type of system offers over flushing toilets and where they work best, how ours works and where we might make improvements.

Benefits and Uses

First up, let’s look at 10 reasons why composting toilets can be seen as superior to flushing toilets (especially in the right context).

  1. Water Conservation:
  • Composting toilets do not require water for flushing, contributing to significant water conservation. For example, even with water-saving loos in Australia (3L per half flush, 6L per full) meaning a family of 4 flushes around 28,000 litres of drinking-quality water down the bog every year. In Adelaide, this constitutes 18% (32 GL) of all mains water use from the 200 gigalitres we use every year. It takes energy and resources to purify water, a lot of energy to operate desalination plants and in a state where rainfall is due to decline by as much as 30% by 2050, we can’t afford to minimise the importance of fresh water.
  1. Environmental Impact:
  • Flushing toilets contribute to water pollution through the release of sewage into water bodies. Composting toilets eliminate this form of pollution, as they do not produce liquid waste that requires treatment. Best of all, “humanure” is natural and, when composted and dealt with appropriately, can be used as a positive way to restore soil health.
  1. Significant Reduction in Energy Use:
  • Traditional sewage treatment and water supply systems involve significant energy consumption. Composting toilets effectively take away all the energy consumption from the system other than some manual labour in managing your compost.
  1. Off-Grid Capability:
  • Composting toilets are perfectly suited for off-grid living or in remote areas where access to water and sewage infrastructure is limited. They provide a sanitation solution without the need for extensive plumbing. Once you remove “black water” from your waste system (in most areas, only toilet water is black water now), it is easy to deal with grey water with zero sewage involvement.
  1. Nutrient-Rich Compost:
  • Not only environmentally friendly from a water or energy perspective, compost produced by composting toilets can be a valuable resource for gardening and agriculture. It is rich in nutrients and can be safely used as fertilizer after proper composting.
  1. Odour Control:
  • A common concern is that composting toilets smell worse than flushing loos. A properly set up composting one is designed to minimize or eliminate odours through proper ventilation and microbial decomposition. A dry bucket loo will have no odour (other than smells created “in-progress” which is the same as any toilet! 😛 Advanced models often have features like fans and venting systems to keep the compost dry as moisture is usually the only contributor to smell.
  1. Reduced Infrastructure Costs:
  • Installing traditional sewage systems and water supply infrastructure can be expensive. A composting toilet can be as simple as a bucket under a toilet seat with organic covering material up to a traditional-looking toilet with a chambered unit under the house. Not having a “wet” system means plumbing can be DIY and is very simple to maintain or repair.
  1. Resilience to Water Shortages:
  • During droughts or water shortages, traditional flushing toilets may face restrictions or challenges. Some eco-minded folks will put a brick in the toilet tank to conserve water or other modifications, but the fact is, toilets need water to work effectively without blocking up. Composting toilets provide a reliable and independent sanitation solution that doesn’t rely on water availability.
  1. Reduced Strain on Sewage Systems:
  • In areas with overburdened sewage systems, composting toilets can help reduce the strain on infrastructure, preventing issues like sewage overflows and backups. On a localised level, a “blocked toilet” is a thing of the past with a composting toilet, rendering a toilet plunger permanently unneeded! Hooray! It doesn’t matter what you throw down the loo as long as it can naturally break down. In one house we lived in, our old pipes would be routinely infiltrated by tree roots which resulted in horror scenes of raw sewage burbling up through a backyard grate. Yuck-o.
  1. Adaptability to Various Climates:
  • Composting toilets can function effectively in a range of climates, including cold and remote areas, where traditional sewage systems may be challenging to implement. Frozen pipes aren’t going to affect this system, and hot environments only help get the composting process moving along faster.

Bonus point: Silence. Rather than worrying about plopping or tinkling sounds in a wet loo, nor the sound of a toilet flushing (eg. in the quiet of the night or numerous times with guests over), there is complete silence. Not something to be underestimated in its importance.

Based on many of these reasons, I personally think that we should see a whole lot more people giving composting toilets a try, however the reality is of course much different. Local regulations, and the specific needs of a given community will dictate what is “allowed” or not. Sadly, despite fresh water being a disappearing resource, city councils will probably never adopt any other system other than the one they have as they see human waste as a public health (even though flushing toilets are still reliant on people using and maintaining them properly). However, with more people going off-grid and expanding into semi-rural areas, this is entirely a possible solution.

composting toilet, off-grid, custom design, tiny house on wheels

Our composting toilet experience

We came into the composting toilet idea early on after seeing how effective they were and how many people used them during our Intentional Community trips. There were indoor and outdoor loos-with-views, fancy loos, simple loos. The one thing in common was that they were all inoffensive to use, clean and required no special plumbing. Including our time building our tiny house, we haven’t had a flushing toilet since early 2019. Largely we have not missed it at all:

Pros: the environmental considerations listed above, easy to keep clean, quiet, no unclogging or flooding concerns, no mechanical issues like tank stuck filling.

Cons: requires manually levelling the accumulated pile occasionally for better coverage, can get smelly if people wee in it (see challenges below), no flushing water should things stick to the bowl, every 6 weeks or so the bin needs swapping and old compost needs burying.

composting toilet, Eco-loo, tiny house, off-grid

Our set-up is based on ones that we saw for sale by companies like Green-Loo who have large multi-chamber polycarbonate units that can fit under tiny houses and will allow the composting activity to occur within. Some units like the Separett include unique urine diverters but you still need to empty compartments plus it requires you to always sit down and I just don’t personally like the way they look. The Green-Loo system is well thought out but much more expensive than we wanted to spend, but we modelled ours off that idea.

The perk to building in a semi-trailer body is the height from the ground. Having just over a meter of clearance means that we could slip a standard wheelie bin underneath which would provide us with a waste receptacle at a fraction of the price of a dedicated system ($75 per bin from Paramount Browns, delivered). We found some handy plans of how to fit-out a bin for this purpose and then just modified it to work with the Green-Loo pedestal toilet, which was our biggest expense ($450). A good-quality fan which sits in-line in the large exhaust pipe out of the bin ran us about $100 too.

the outdoor set-up of the composting wheelie bin and exhaust system

The design is based around the idea that there is a sub-compartment separated by a mesh barrier that allows liquids to accumulate in the lower reservoir and then a hose from that lower area allows fluids to leak into a run-off pit as needed. The mesh barrier keeps the solids compost up top and then near the very top of the bin is a hole for the vent pipe and fan. The wheelie bin has its attached lid hanging off the back, unused until it gets swapped for a fresh bin, then closed up and sat in the sun to ferment. A standalone lid with a hole cut in the middle hugs the main toilet shaft from the house above and sits snug over the bin to keep it sealed up. In the house, the toilet pedestal looks like any other toilet and the only giveaway is no tank or flusher. To further conceal the nature of the system, we have a couple of storage boxes built into the wall as drawers which hold the bulking material that you use to cover your business in the toilet after you’ve gone. Added innovation: the bulking material boxes are in a two-way hole that leads out to the back of the trailer where two large bulk storage bins reside in the wall of the trailer. They can each hold about 200 litres of material so it allows us to easily top up the internal bins without having to drag anything in through the house.

Watch the video at the bottom of this page of how I put it all together and what the system looks like.

The result: a largely fuss-free toilet experience but not without both some caveats and planned changes. Initially, we used the toilet for all activities with the intent to allow liquids to drain out, keeping things dry enough not to smell with the fan doing its job to dry out what was there and draw away remaining smells. In the winter and when the bin is less than half full, this worked well enough. If we didn’t use enough covering material (or the right covering material…it took us time to get that right) then it might smell for a short time after a wee until it got soaked up into the pile (we tend to use bulk garden compost mixed with soil from our yard for solids and pet bedding sawdust for liquids). With two of us working from home, it was just too much fluid in the system so I just went outside for my contribution (which wasn’t terrible: there is no one around where we are and it gets me outside). Come summer, the toilet smelled a bit more which led to Heidi avoiding weeing into the toilet at all and using a bucket and then dumping outside. Obviously this is not rendering our toilet system too useful if we are only using it each once a day!

With the decision to keep our other semi-trailer (P2) and fit it out as a guest space, we decided it made sense to add a toilet there too. On a couple of our intentional community visits we came across duel toilet set-ups and thought this made sense in P2. This way we can make the toilet in our main house (P1) a dedicated wee-only toilet which will allow it to be used many times a day, with a dedicated wee-only toilet right next to a dedicated poo-only toilet in P2. The only downsides to this idea are that it means someone must use the poo-only (which is really just like the one in P1 now, so it can take fluids too if someone is unsure of what might come out 😱) for poo, and never never do a number 2 in the wee toilet which will be fitted with essentially a funnel connected to a hose! Also, my handy-dandy bulking material bins will be rendered useless in P1 (although, I’ll set it up so that the original set-up can be easily implemented if that suits us in some future scenario).

Overall, we really like the composting toilet set-up. We have a special microbacterial spray that speeds up the process of composting in the toilet and doubles as a cleaner so keeping the bowl clean is easy. It looks good, there is no splashing or flushing or brushing required. There is no plumbing, septic, sewage costs and most importantly, water wastage. It does require a slightly more hands-on approach to swap out bins and bury compost, plus manage bulking/covering material.

If you want to visually check out the process and the result, have a watch of the video below. Let me know if you have any questions or comments in the section below!

Lower stress and gaining more precious time. Our journey of downsizing and simple living.

Our journey to reducing the complications in our life has taken a few years, but the results are palpable: feeling less money-stress, having time to truly breathe in life and not feel like it is dragging you along, space to explore what is most meaningful to you. Even just find a space to “waste” time and become bored to stir up creativity are all valuable things.

In this video, Mike talks about what we have learned and the tips and tricks to start thinking about how you can simply your existence for the betterment of not only your own life but for relationships and the environment. Enjoy and thanks for watching! 💚

A new video channel and lifestyle!

For the past 4 years (2019-2023), tiny house life has been front and centre in our world. Before that, we were on a path to something tiny house and minimalism related for several years. It is exciting now that it has fused into a vision where we are living in the house and want to share more of this life and opportunity with others. Enter: Heidi and Mike’s Big Tiny Adventure on YouTube!

  

Up until recently, the ongoing videos I did for my tiny house building series entitled the.semitrailer.project were an amalgamation of clips that I shot while simultaneously putting together the house (a journey, I might add, that was the first of its kind for me, so definitely busy learning on the job!). These videos gradually increased in production quality as I saw that the material resonated with viewers, plus my background in video production enticed me to be more creative. That, and I’m a goof with a weird sense of humour, something I hope gives folks a chuckle while they watch. 😛 These videos all just resided on my video production YouTube channel the Cunning Crow (my production company is Cunning Crow Productions).

With the desire to expand this video series and giving them a standalone place to live, we wanted to use the opportunity to showcase all things related to tiny houses in our locality (South Australia, to start) with particular focus on: other semi-trailer conversations, things we learned on our journey, the lifestyle perks and challenges to tiny house living, helpful tips to people starting on this journey and minimalism conversations through interviews and personal perspectives. Being well-connected to our Adelaide tiny house community, we want to talk about what is going on here, particularly with the housing crisis, changes to council legislation to do with THOWs (tiny houses on wheels) and just the exciting things going on in this area which aren’t often focused on in other tiny house pages or channels.

Heidi has been keen to dive deeper into this way of life as she has a lot to say with regards to ethical, sustainable and minimal living. We hope to see her periodically on the channel or when she has the chance to blog her thoughts here. Given my daily involvement with the build and being relaxed on camera meant that it has been me on video more often than not. It will great to get Heidi’s voice into the mix as she has been an equal part to this journey to date!

The new channel is live and we’d love for you to follow or subscribe to our journey. The hope is to truly provide a useful resource to our audience for a variety of reasons, whether you are just tiny house curious, thinking about or starting your own journey, wanting to do your part to help progress the tiny house movement or just looking for something authentic and different to watch. Whatever it is, welcome on board via this site or through our video channel ☺️🏠💚

Living Simply in practice: is it truly possible?

Twelve years ago, I had a lightbulb moment: living simply will solve many of my problems, plus those of the world as well.

I wrote this blog post about my initial thoughts on the subject which were largely based on: theory, watching my girlfriend (now wife) and her friends living that way, plus early positive experiences of my own. In the intervening years, Heidi and I had honed our practices and eventually put our money where our mouths are by building a tiny house to experience a true sense of *minimalist living.

At the time in 2011, human-induced climate change was only just getting a bit more coverage at last but I recognised the strong link between our lifestyles and the significant impact it was having on the planet. I’m glad that I felt the need to make personal changes (I even started to document my accountability) as it has served me quite well over the years plus I have felt confident about advocating for greater change amongst my peers and the community at large.

So is it possible to Live Simply in a manner that is both satisfying and fulfilling but honest, mindful and effective? Is it possible to be comfortable enough to not feel like you are missing out on life’s highlights while knowing that your ethical commitment to sustainability is truly having the desired effect on the climate and wellbeing of the Earth?

From a Western perspective, I think my answer is yes and no.

Heidi and I live in a tiny house, buy very few “luxuries”, purchase hardly any new clothes (me) or nearly all clothes secondhand/homemade (Heidi), travel on flights increasingly less, own one car, don’t eat meat or dairy and largely limit our general spending to essentials. Part of this is economic as my earnings have been scattered the past few years. If I were earning more, there’s a good chance that I would buy (or at least upgrade) more tech gear as I am a sucker for that. I might eat out a bit more. And if there was a bit more money available I might be inclined to travel overseas a bit more as my family are overseas but also one of my loves is exploring the world. Importantly though, having begun my simpler living journey, I recognise how liberating it is, therefore any tweaks or added perks I might add would stay within a construct of this lower-consumption framework and therefore kept in check.

At the core though, I am still a spoiled Westerner who has opportunities that many don’t have in this world, and this will always inform the idea of what “comfortable living” is compared to, say, Somalia or Bangladesh.

My current earning constraints are of course keeping me in check for now then; but am I happy about that? Is it healthy to limit ourselves for big picture improvements? I personally think that restraint is always good with humans as we have shown time and time again that when given limitless power or money, our greed is fairly insatiable. By living in both a tiny house AND on a low income, I am confining my ability to expand my collection of STUFF as I have no money to buy it and no place to put the stuff anyway.

Interestingly, with inflation and housing prices going through the roof over the past couple of years, the ratio of my cost of living to earnings has actually levelled out far more than that of a more mainstream lifestyle in Australia. As our house cost relatively little making us mortgage-free and our low-expenditure lifestyle means outgoings are easily controlled, the fact that we have a modest income balances out things well. In fact, between us, Heidi and I don’t even work one full-time job which gives us far more time to “smell the roses” in life and not be robbed of our best years working ourselves to death.

Now, I could say “I wish everyone lived more like this” so that we could make true change in the world, but I know that we benefit from things like generous hosts for where our home is parked plus generous family that helped us build the house in the first place. There are not only a great deal of laws in Australia and other Western countries (in particular) that would need to change in order for more tiny houses to be parked anywhere legally, but cultural shifts would need to change from a wealth-acquisition mindset to an environment-first one not to mention minimising dramatically (eg. Australians live in the largest houses in the world, on average).

I still hope for some shift away from our affluenza as it will not only benefit people individually by escaping the cycle of modern-day poverty where people living on six-figure incomes are still struggling to get by due to their huge mortgages and consumption-based lifestyles, but actually will have the effect of giving people back stolen time that they could be spending with family, slowing things down and increasing true happiness, not temporary happiness that they purchased in some form. Critically, a trend to minimalism and reduction will take enormous strains off our planet – from improved air quality to reduced rubbish in waterways to fewer raw materials being consumed to less land clearing to lower stress and improved health of people at all levels of the system. The only ones standing in our way are the billionaires who stand to make far less wealth under such a Minimalism Revolution.

Returning to the idea of “missing out” on parts of life if we choose to reel in our consumption, it really just comes down to practicing restraint compared to now. I am convinced that the West will never be able to reverse course completely, but the incredible strides that could be made by vast reduction – not necessarily elimination – of our most damaging desires, would have a profoundly positive impact. For example, a common one is to reduce meat and dairy several times a week; if everyone halved their typical consumption, this industry – one of the most polluting of them all – would shrink proportionately, leading to significant improving air, water, land use, animal welfare and human health.

In this way, the restraint becomes something to value and give personal strength, so you can appreciate something more when you get to have it again rather than taking it for granted. If we wind back the clock to a 70 or more years ago, the “Sunday roast” was still a special thing because people didn’t consume meat every day like now (with meat and dairy in most meals for some people). I think the perception now is that these traditions justify the idea that humans should eat meat whenever they’d like, where in fact if they were taken more literally it would show that occasional meat-eating was the norm and far better both for health and the environment. Of course, my hope would be that people would realise that giving up animal products is the best option of all, but that’s a different conversation!

Another example would be using the repair, reuse, recycle philosophy: rather than getting rid of something because it is slightly old or has some wear or even some damage, we learn to fix/mend/improve or be part of a community that can help us where we cannot do it. For this we would also need to pressure companies to make more things reparable, have stronger communities that can efficiently tend to these items and re-jig society to slow down consumerism in exchange with promoting pride in our ability to be resourceful. The personal outcomes for individuals here are expansive: a lower-consumption society vastly reduces waste and costs associated with it, it significantly lowers emissions, it reduces financial stress and the need to earn as much or work as long/hard, it reduces slave labour demands and resource depletion, it fosters community through sharing/repair, and much more.

So can we enjoy life living simply? Most definitely yes! The power of restraint leads to inner strength. The reduced financial stress of not over-consuming and needing a larger home and/or wasting more time working to support your lifestyle, is liberating. Smaller homes are easier to clean and maintain, reducing chore time. Living simply gets you outdoors more and encourages healthy activities. It’s not about denying some of our needs and pastimes like eating out, buying a new item, going on a trip or types of entertainment; it’s about being smart and resourceful while exercising healthy restraint.

*minimalist living in the Western sense. Having travelled to places like parts of SE Asia, Ethiopia, South America and Papua New Guinea, I recognise what true simple living looks like. I still live in a comfortable home protected from the elements, with heating and cooling, technical conveniences and safety.

Unintentional community

the.semitrailer.project

day 095  : :  blog post 004

I’m looking forward to exploring the aspect of community living at our property’s collective. We are an organically created group who have initially come together with the common interest of building tiny houses.

But I feel that there is much more to our group as interest in tiny houses usually carry a value set along with it, such as subsistence living, low-impact low-consumerism repair-culture mindset, environmental awareness, small footprint, non-mainstream thinking driven less about finances and more about interconnectedness. I haven’t had the chance to suss all this out with our group yet but I sense (with hopeful anticipation!) that a lot of this is present.

What is interesting about this is that Heidi and I have been thinking for a decade about the idea of living in an intentional community, and here we are in an unintentional one and it looks exciting. The tiny house part is of course the feature presentation and we are delighted to be neighbours with a couple of people, Pete and Rob, who have built tiny houses already. On top of that, of the 8 people who comprise our community, all but one is building semi trailer tiny houses like us. So that’s currently 4 concurrent builds. Very cool and fortuitous!

Even though we are all coming from different parts of Adelaide with a mix of previous jobs and lingering attachments to the city, we are starting to mix, share in activities and have social gatherings. Most recently, Pete and Lyn, our “landlords” (I hesitate to use such a cold label, it’s just shorter than “land owners where we are spending time during our tiny house build” ☺️) took us all on a traditional paddlewheeler cruise on the Murray River as a form of welcome to our new community. What’s nice is that personalities are meshing on top of our common interests and near 50 year age span from oldest to youngest.

Lucy and Sammy have get stuck into doing some food growing in our semi-community garden patch. Once I get my head out of being mired in getting our so-called temporary accomodation sorted, I am looking forward to getting involved in community projects and working bees, etc. like this.

In the meantime, it’s just nice knowing that we have some exciting times ahead getting to know our group, beginning cooperatively building our respective homes, learning new skills together and from one another plus involving the wider tiny house community in what we’re doing. There’s lots of space for some weekender camp-outs and tiny house events! We just have to make sure Pete and Lyn are up for all the shenanigans that we are all brewing☺️

a cosmic leap

the.semitrailer.project

day 079  : :  blog post 003

OK, so there has been a month between blog posts. Good reason for it: the “cosmic leap”. That being: the epic gulf between living in a unit with running water, electricity when you flick a switch, a place for your poo to go when you flush, things like solid walls and so on. It’s a reasonably big deal to have to fabricate this stuff quickly in a manner that will last the better part of a year of building our tiny house without feeling like we are perpetually camping. Thus the span between blog posts: I’ve been busy dammit 😝

Not only busy, but fretting about my capabilities not only in terms of our little tent village, but what I’ll be like building a “proper” dwelling. I spend countless hours frustrated with stupid tasks like figuring out how my solar panels should be mounted or how plumbing works or what a good composting toilet should function like. Everything takes WAY longer than I feel like it should. WAY.

Added bonus: it’s winter and cold with random moments of inconvenient rain and intense wind. I’d have my frustrations no other way…pile it on!

It’s not only the time taken but my mental anguish of not knowing how some basic stuff works after many decades of being on this planet. The dumbfounded looks I got at the electrical shop when I was talking about how 12V set-ups work or what material my ground wire should be makes me feel like I’ve been living in a cave. Of course it seems like every Australian goes camping and so they all are experts at 12-volt everything, but I’m just a noob who knows how to use a camera and his computer and that’s about it so it seems.

I also made the decision not to post too much about this part of the process as I wanted this to be about building a tiny house on a semi trailer, even though my new friend Rob believes that I should be showcasing the whole experience. I can say that it is definitely not for the feint of heart and I give Heidi credit for stepping away from homely comforts and embracing living in a tent for a few months and then in a tiny house. She’s taking it slowly and occasionally shakily (we did a re-design of our sleeping set-up after a recent blustery wind storm that vibrated our bell tent too much for her liking) but is still on-board with the adventure…for now! I agree with Rob in the sense that while this adventure is a definite challenge, it is worth doing these things in life to shake ourselves awake from our routine. It is good for people to see that it is possible to break loose from convention and follow our dreams, even if they seem crazy to others.

And so I continue to shape our temporary home. It is taking longer than I hoped for but I do realise that it has to be emotionally sustainable for us to do the tiny house build, and therefore has to be comfortable enough, functional and not a hindrance on a day-to-day basis. So if getting running hot and cold water, a fuss-free toilet, warm and safe shelter and reliable power takes me a bit longer, I guess it will pay off in the coming months. And I suppose (he says, trying to convince himself) I am learning transportable skills now for the tiny house, so hopefully it’s not at all going to waste!

I am allowed to live like this

I am sitting on a daybed on the balcony of our hand-built rustic accommodation, overlooking a lush scene of trees in all directions, a simple track and nearby hill that makes up the rainforest valley we’re in. However, it is not the visual setting I’m focused on but rather the melodic sounds of the rainforest – those wet, rich, echoing tones of exotic-sounding birds – chirping, whoooiiip!-ing and trilling – with a distant burble of water from a healthy creek. Down the rambling road, I see two people in aprons carrying big baskets filled with fresh produce walking back from a series of bountyful gardens just beyond. Not only is it a signal to me to take a moment and absorb the healthiness, beauty and tranquility of this location but it is a reminder that this is the norm for this intentional community, and not just some temporary getaway for distant travellers like ourselves.

As a born and bred city-goer, I have in the past convinced myself that I was more “at home” in the city, with the so-called conveniences, the comforting ever-present drone of traffic in the distance, and the neatly partitioned off spaces delineating all facets of life so we know who’s-is-whose and culturally how to behave. These travels to intentional communities are, for now, a temporary peek into the way others live, but ultimately I expect to return to a city, even if there are elements that grate against my being. It is simply what I am used to. DSC02430These communities are just foreign places where a different breed of people live, and I think of the inhabitants as “the lucky few” who are able to get away with this lifestyle while the rest of us muck about in uncreative suburbs and traffic congestion.

However, a tipping point is nearing, I believe. I am also beginning to feel like I speak into the same line of thinking and ideals that the people that we meet in these communities now. I need to stop portraying myself as a wishful dreamer and more of a participant-in-training, transitioning to this new life…not if, but when. When I see so many people with multiple practical skills – some of which may seem to have died out or have become unnecessary in modern life – I feel unqualified to be considering such a move. I don’t know how to grow food very well. What can I build besides furniture out of pallet wood? Could I hook up an off-grid solar system myself? How do I identify all the plants or snakes that could kill me? How do you know when you have to appease local councils with something on your land? Doubts creep in.

Sure, I can go on the internet and learn some of these things over time, but the virtue of a community is that all the many skills needed are often supplied by your community members, or you muddle through as a group and figure things out together. Many of the people we encounter seem like ordinary folks (many who have come from cities too) who have had lots of time to try things out and collectively learn these interesting skills. Plus the welcoming, non-judgemental attitude of members helps soften the worrying like the “will they accept a useless sod like me” thoughts that crop up too. Given that most communities we’ve experienced have a trial period (essential for both parties to feel if they will fit), if you simply come with a positive, respectful and can-do attitude, my guess is that most communities will love to have you in due time.

I can’t speak for what other people’s barriers would be to potentially living in a way that allows you to feel liberated from the constraints and pressures of mainstream society, but mine are: acceptance, expectations and relationships. Returning back to my view of the rainforest and the birds, another barrier might be “am I allowed to live in such a wonderful place? Isn’t life supposed to be busy and stressful with hard edges, like in a city?”. It’s that idea that I am not deserving of this. That voice in the back of your head that suggests that it is “time to grow up and be an adult” which I interpret to mean: “hippies, activists and lay-abouts live in rainforests and aren’t productive members of society.” I am finally starting to dispense of this myth. Sure, we need doctors, engineers and lawyers (wait, do we really need lawyers?) in our world, but more importantly, we need folks of all types that have a greater say in how mainstream life should play out. There is an equitable, respectful and trust-filled existence in community that truly needs to pervade our society and show folks that life can look and work very different than it currently does.

I believe we can all live in cities that resemble rainforests, so that we all can cherish life more than dreading many parts of it.

I believe that intentional communities are the model by which this can happen and in the meantime, I’m excited to say that I feel ready to transition into this brave new world.

DSC02433

Check out the rest of my journey on our 2016 Intentional Community trip.

Bundagen IC: serenity by the sea

~ DESTINATION THREE: BUNDAGEN, NSW ~

Proof that hippie communities can evolve beyond simple ideological experiments
lush scenery detail

Back at our campsite that shares the same beach as Bundagen’s intentional community, I can continue to enjoy the natural haven that is this part of the New South Wales coastline. About 20 minutes drive south of Coffs Harbour and close to the eclectic town of Bellingen which is back-dropped by a stunning Dorrigo National Park, this sub-tropical zone is our first real taste of the more northerly climes of Australia – wetter, more humid, more lush. It is an excellent climate for organic farming, straddling Mediterranean and tropical, and features lush rainforest, picturesque mountains, achingly-beautiful surf beaches and small, inviting towns. Heidi and I felt a lot of external loves and soul-filling elements clicking together here right off the bat.

For 35 years, Bundagen Cooperative has been an off-grid settlement to a group of folks looking to connect more with nature and other like-minded souls in a beautiful part of Australia. Over 110 people – spanning three generations – live and work here, growing organic veggies, meditating, playing and experiencing life mostly off the mainstream treadmill. Theirs is not a utopia, but rather what they aptly describe as “a microcosm of the macrocosm, with all the dramas of the wider world played out on our small stage.” One person we met said that it was originally a ‘social experiment’ to experience the limitations of such a community.

community-morning
Jo-and-Giri

This community began in an appropriately activist manner: in the late 70’s, happy hippie folk used the farm land for environmentally joyful pursuits and were friendly with the local farmer who owned it. In 1981, the property came available for sale and Japanese interests swooped in with designs on redeveloping the land into a resort and golf course. The farmer sided with the concerned hippies and chose to sell the land to them which the group managed to do via their “alternative networks”. Hooray! This wily rogue of determined environmentalists defeated the big developers and have since cared very well for the land, even having part of it deemed a protected national park (Bongil Bongil).

We were originally drawn to this community as it sounded like a nice balance of alternative, sustainable, meditative/spiritual and mature. Having spent two weeks there as WWOOFers with our hosts Jo and Giri (pictured), I think that our initial hopes and assumptions were largely bang-on. From a visual perspective, Bundagen is a beautiful spot; we largely spent our time in one of 12 villages within the community – Bananas village (it was named as it was a former banana plantation, not because the people are crazy and wild like I first thought 😛 ) – and it is green, tropical and well-kept. Cars are “officially” limited in the village and the “roads” are greenways between houses (and one gorgeous path that takes you to an exquisite private stretch of beach).

Our hosts' open-plan home, surrounded by lush rainforest
Our hosts’ open-plan home, surrounded by lush rainforest
main house

In our village, all of the homes are unique with many being hand-built creations using many types of natural materials, plus some caravans, old buses and other interesting structures thrown into the mix. There are no fences which seems obvious in a place that is supposed to promote community and openness, but experiencing it still feels very different than our mainstream suburbs where there are divisions all over the place: bitumen roads and footpaths, council-maintained areas, boundary fences and walls, chain-link in public areas, speed and traffic signs and so on. In my opinion, this is still and has always been one of the defining factors of living in community: you live together, trust each other and provide safe, harmonious and attractive common spaces that generally don’t require division or external policing. Going back into these conformist settings once you’ve been in a community like this immediately makes me feel uncomfortable. Mainstream society is largely not natural.

Other than visual appeal, the sustainable aspect is immediately obvious as well. The whole community is off-grid, so most villages have in-home composting toilets (plus a village shared loo), all water is rainwater harvested and electricity is solar. The off-grid stuff is done so well and effortlessly that you hardly notice it such that it is so well-integrated into the operation of the community. Until very recently, shared resources like a communal kitchen were still used, but an ageing population with a bit more saved income has resulted in more members building in-home conveniences and the village kitchen was torn down. There is, however, talk of building a new one, at least for a community hall to meet at. Other resources are still shared however, like tools and equipment, common machinery for maintaining roadways and lawns, and so on.

One of the biggest parts of this community (and of course the intent of all communities) is the relational part, and having spoken to numerous people about it, it seems that 95% of it is all good. Many of the folks we met had been there a long time and that in itself is indicative that members enjoy living there. It was fantastic to see so many healthy-looking 50 and 60-something folks, busy but smiling, and with tons of interesting wisdom to offer. However, of all the people we met, not one didn’t mention the challenges of conflict within a tight-knit community like Bundagen. In fact, not only do they mention their struggles with conflict resolution on their webpage, but we had numerous conversations about it, and witnessed it firsthand.

garden detail

Conflict resolution and internal politics are things that we have heard about in every community so it is clear to us that it a good system needs to be established early on. Members indicate that this didn’t really happen in Bundagen and this is their only real issue. Clearly they have made it work on some level to last this long, but the potential for fallout came into full illumination with a community member who was causing a rift between villages and individuals for many years. As good stewards of communal-living principles, the community-at-large have employed ongoing attempts at personal support over time, but sterner measures were being discussed. By all counts, this is unusual but it seems like something that has gone on far longer than is needed as the community didn’t have a comprehensive plan on to come down hard on frequent offenders. A further downside that we experienced was gossip, not just from this but from other things, which I suspect could cause other rifts if left unchecked.

house-deck day2

Having come here on the heels of our Bruderhof experience was interesting; I am always hesitant to compare communities as they are apples and oranges, but being that they are so different makes it enticing to compare. The stand-out thing about a community like this is the organic nature of everything, which has its pluses and minuses. On the plus side, Bundagen is lush, natural and beautiful with countless birds, monitor lizards, possums and bush turkeys in your garden (and the occasional python living in your rafters!); easygoing smiling folks from different walks of life doing creative and inspirational things with their diverse dwellings, clothing and interests; music/sing-along nights, working bees, clothing-optional bathing at the beach (apparently in the early days, even member meetings were in the nude!), wild organic gardens behind many homes, yoga/meditation sessions run by members; and a relaxed way of organising, administering and “being”. The downside, comparatively, might be what Bruderhof excelled at: structure and order, balanced education, blended multi-generational groups onsite, community unity (with gossip largely “outlawed”) and a central drive (Jesus) that affected every person; all this the kind of stuff that won’t happen without some forethought. Now, I know Bundagen residents would probably argue that some of those things are exactly what they don’t want, and I would personally choose a more organic lifestyle over a heavily constructed one, but there are levels of structure that Bundagen might consider virtues to employ, especially in light of their self-assessment on conflict resolution. And that’s not to say that Bundagen was lacking in a spiritual core; I think most people there felt some affinity with the Spirit, the land or both, they simply didn’t all subscribe to the exact same programme.

One thing that is obvious about community living is the great sense of unity in times of need: during our visit, a friend of our hosts passed away, and the community rushed to help with preparations, personal support and finances. Folks rallied together to give moral support with the troublesome community-member I mentioned above. When a couple of WOOFers last year got stuck in a rip in the surf, a coordinated rescue was quickly set up and the couple would have likely died had it not been for the whole community jumping into action. Of course, emergencies aren’t the norm, and you can see the day-to-day stuff like neighbours dropping in regularly, village get-togethers plus information and skills sharing. It is clearly more dynamic and functional than a typical urban suburb. This generosity of time and spirit extended to temporary folk like us, as everyone had time for a chat with relaxed exchanges and no ulterior agenda.

caravan-day

caravan inside

stone wall-M&H

We ultimately spent most of our time with our hosts Jo and Giri, who fed us well (food & plenty of wine!) and kept us laughing with entertaining evening chats. They let us stay in their backyard caravan (pictured above) which was cozy and open so we could hear the birds singing and the rain fall (which it did a lot of in our last week there). Giri had us help with constructing an artistic stone wall and other manual labour, and Jo was interested in our skilled labour so we helped her with a logo and website for her business. We enjoyed their hand-crafted open-plan mud-brick home which really took advantage of the lush surrounds, and was only a 5 minute walk from the warm ocean where we often started or ended our day with a swim. The sense of peace and serenity that the location and lifestyle offered to the folks in Bananas village was quite memorable, and I could easily see why it would be enticing to live there for decades – despite the occasional conflict – as so many had done. Membership is closed at Bundagen as they are full, which also really says something about the place. Definitely a little slice of heaven!

beach4

As usual, have a look at Heidi’s take on Bundagen on her blog, Miss Roo’s Adventures.

 

 

Strawbales and tipis, native spirituality and hospitality

~ DESTINATION THREE: DAYLESFORD ~

I love being pleasantly surprised…

My initial impression was that this was going to be a very different experience than our last stop at Cornerstone in Bendigo. When researching for the trip, Gentle Earth Walking sounded interesting primarily for the potential for strawbale building (something we were keen on trying) and staying in a tipi. Now that we have left, I am re-reading the entry in the WWOOFing guide about this spot, and while it describes everything that was there in a practical sense, we in no way could have been prepared for the things that actually made it such a rich visit. property wildernessFrom the effortless hospitality of our hosts Sue and Don to the peaceful rhythms of nature on their 40 acre property, we felt welcomed as part of the family with nothing being too much trouble. From the authentic incarnation of indigenous Australian and American spirituality that they practiced to the abundance of interesting ideas and projects around the property, their sense of dedication and care for the Earth and its peoples was clear. And while we weren’t expecting it to have an obvious community element, the outreach to community through creative and intelligent means made us realise that Sue and Don were dedicated to living out their beliefs and lifestyle goals as thoroughly as possible.

A feature of the stay that we quickly discovered was that Sue and Don love to tell stories. We heard a broad array of tales from their lives – learning that they were very well traveled, have had colourful and complex family lives, have experienced some amazing and unusual spiritual events, and are willing to throw themselves into any situation with vigour – all told with humour, trust and openness as if we had known them for years. Granted, at times we felt overwhelmed by the sheer volume of stories and retreated to our tipi at the end of the night with explodingly full brains, but we continually found ourselves returning and increasingly engaged in their intriguing lives. Given how many dozens of WWOOFers they’ve had over the years, you have to wonder how they tell these stories with enduring freshness!

inside house

Often our conversations were around their dining table which is the centre of a very full and cluttered room that houses all of Sue’s office and computer, the lounge room and tv, the kitchen and pantry, dining table, and inventive clothes and pot racks made from ladders hanging from the high ceiling. In the midst of it all is a pot-bellied stove, continually roaring with flames as the weather was cold these nights (even down to -2ºC one night) while we were there. The room is jammed full as the strawbale house they live in isn’t complete and they have had to pile everything into this one room until another area is ready. Mashing everything and everyone in one place meant it was a cozy place to retreat to at the end of the day, and there would always be something going on like a spirited conversation, visiting family popping in, Don bottling some ginger beer, chooks trying to run inside the back door, Sue digging through boxes to find us books on strawbale building, endless cups or tea and coffee boiling on the ancient stove or Don doing his back exercises on the floor. Part of feeling at home there as well was that they weren’t at all precious about anything: there were no locks on doors, car keys always left in their old cars which we could use whenever we needed to, and nearly everything was a found object or had been reused, recycled or repaired.

group shotThe house is a very solid place filled with touches that indicate that this is a house made lovingly by hand. The bales offer amazing insulation and sound-proofing, looking great in an organic, hand-made kind of way. At about 200 square meters (2000 sq ft), it is a big place, and with the wonders of strawbale building (cheap materials and often free labour or simply less than a typical build), it only cost them about $30K. For those uninitiated with strawbale building, it offers so many advantages over brick or timber construction (cheaper to build, less labour, superior insulation, superior fireproofness, longevity), it’s a wonder why more houses aren’t built this way. Sue and Don have clearly been educating and enticing locals as well, as they are directly responsible for teaching or helping 50 buildings be built in the Daylesford area.Mike rendering

My dreams of building such a home were only increasing in intensity as we began seeing all the potential of the various strawbale projects around the property. And sure enough, they put us to work on a wall that had been half-sealed and needed rendering and repair. We spent the better part of a week working on the wall and it was fantastic getting our hands dirty learning about the craft. Both Heidi and I really appreciated doing the work and didn’t get tired of the labour; there’s something invigorating about working on a project like this, particularly if you are typically used to sitting in front of a computer all day like we are.

tipi at night

tipi in morningA unique part of this experience was staying in a Native American-styled tipi which was as genuine as the original ones found in North America. Ours was a 16 foot style (base diameter, about 5 meters) and about 30 foot high (10 meters) at the peak. The cool thing about a tipi is that, like the original ones, you have a fire pit within. Special wind-control flaps on the outside plus an inner sleeve help control air flow so smoke from the fire is drawn up and out the top of the tipi. We had mixed luck with keeping the tipi from becoming choked with smoke, but when we did get it to work it was a great way to warm it up. And warmth we needed as we happened to hit frigid temps a few nights! I was a bit over the tipi experience by the end mainly because of Kito who was never at ease there and had worked out ways to escape the tipi Kito in tipiwhich was a problem if we were off working. So poor Kito was stuck lashed to a pole with his leash inside the tipi and I felt either bad for him or annoyed as he tried so hard to make life difficult for both of us!

inside tipi

At the end of all the work and life on the property there was Sue and Don, two very interesting, inspiring, slightly eccentric (but wonderfully so!), gracious, trusting, open and hospitable folks. We particularly found Don to be a rare wise soul, someone who projects a feeling of goodwill and joy whenever you speak with him. Nothing is too much trouble for Don and he will embrace the opportunity to discuss a situation or have a laugh. Don steaming woodWe undoubtably asked too many questions as Heidi and I are prone to doing, but neither of them appeared to be put out by it. I aspire to that level of patience – serenity now! With Don, his spiritual journey seems to have led him to a place where he has an easy relationship with whatever life throws at him, with a gentleness, grace and wisdom that is difficult to find these days. We had many laughs at the various stories of people thinking he was a bikie or a vagrant, which again reminded me – as with many times on this trip already – that judging someone solely on their looks will almost always get you into trouble. Finally, they are creative and open to try anything – as their lengthy history of jobs and experiences attest – and for the last 15 years, Don has invested his time into bending timber using 150 year-old equipment and positioning himself as the only timber bending business left in Australia. I spent a day filming and editing the following short video on Don and his work and I think you can get a sense of Don’s passion for the work and how it extends from his passion for the earth as he discusses working with the 4 elementals of life.

What a wondrous and rich exploration this trip is turning out to be!

Also make sure you see another perspective of this experience on Heidi’s blog!

Inhabit – new documentary film

. . .

This looks like it could be a great film and especially relevant to the trip we are currently engaging in. In this four minute trailer, there are already some great takeaway quotes and things to ponder about the future of our planet and how permaculture principles are vital to our survival.

It looks like film aims to be ready for viewing on Earth Day which is the 22nd of this month so keep an eye out for it (dates/venues at the link): http://inhabitfilm.com