In the late 19th c., after a visit to Paris, three local Haitian architects figured out how to build sustainable, earthquake and hurricane resistant wood and masonry houses. Known today by the clunky name "Le style gingerbread". Here a house in Port-au-Prince, 2017.
The style itself is absolutely inconsequential to the disaster resistant construction, but local patrons fell for the charming looks, reminding them of North American stick frame houses and French seaside resorts. Even when completely stripped nude, they remain charming.
The basic construction is exceedingly simple: a basic timber frame reinforced with diagonal braces, and walls infilled with absolutely anything: stone, mud, brick, wood, whatever was at hand when the house was built, it was all going to be covered in plaster anyway.
In an age before air conditioners rooms were made tall, with high ceilings funneling hot air out of the house via numerous vents and dormer-like turrets. Wooden window slats meant the sun could be kept out while maximizing air flow from outside.
The 2010 earthquake destroyed 40% of the buildings in the city but only 5% of these 19th century wood frame buildings. Even the homes copied by local builders and not actually designed or engineered by professionals survived while modern buildings mostly collapsed.
This incredible survival rate concerns wooden buildings in a tropical climate that often have not had a lick of maintenance for over 100 years.
The three architects responsible for this remarkable achievement were Georges Baussan (photo), Léon Mathon, and Joseph-Eugène Maximilien, and the building boom lasted from 1895-1925, ending after the Mayor officially banned wooden buildings for reasons of "fire safety". Politics.
Any architect building in the Caribbean or places like Florida, New Orleans or the Gulf Coast would benefit from using this building technique. The style is not important, you can make the house look anyway you want, as long as you don't sacrifice the hurricane resistant roofs.
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It is well known warehouses built in earth plaster using inoculated fermented straw and soil keeps fruits, vegetables fresh longer and inhibits mold and microbial growth on paper, books, clothes, antiques etc. Hence Japanese "Dozō". But you can build miniature storage boxes too.
A Japanese master plasterer designed boxes built exactly like regular earthen warehouse walls, except he reused wooden wine crates. He sells kits, or you can use your own materials to make your own if you feel up to it.
These boxes are intended for grain, vegetables and fruit that you would normally keep in a "dark and cool" place. And they work. Here is a comparison with a polystyrene box and three mandarin oranges after 45 days. The blue box is more like what most modern homes are built like.
The practical skills in thatching can be difficult to acquire by videos or books alone, especially how to find materials and the binding. In Finland there is a traditional thatching technique that uses only easy to find reed and no binding: just spread it out and weigh it down.
A bound reed roof is far steeper and thus lasts longer, but it requires more skill to do correctly. Reed is often available for free and in vast quantities anywhere it grows, harvesting it is doing nature a favor. All materials used in a reed roof are compostable, all hand tools.
For a standard roof of say 100m² you need to harvest about three hectares. You can harvest that by hand in about a month, or in a day if you have a reed harvesting machine. In Finland you harvest in March, April.
Maybe one of the oddest professions in Japan is that of the bokka (歩荷). Porters who carry supplies to remote mountain guesthouses inaccessible to vehicles. A bokka uses customized wooden ladder frames to carry 100-165kg of supplies on day long marches (walk up, run down).
The job is popular: not surprisingly veteran bokka routinely tests as fitter and healthier than elite athletes. Both men and women take on the job, the average weight of a bokka is 60-70kg.
Still not much of a chore compared to what some farmers used to handle.
Iriairinya (入会林野) is the Japanese term for "commons". In the West the term "commons" are usually meant as fields for grazing but Japanese commons were traditionally the mixed grass and forest lands between mountains and flatlands usable in agriculture.
Iriairinya are typically from a couple of hectares up to 50-60 hectares. Still a valid legal concept, village's who manage commons also have the option to incorporate them (as modern organizations), to make them more compatible with modern legal practices.
Commons were meant to be vital lifelines for rural villages, providing its members with food (forage), feed (for livestock), fertilizer (leaves), fuel (wood, charcoal), building material (roof thatch). When modern lifestyles took over in the 1970s commons were mostly abandoned.
The miracle of Usami: at 11:58 A.M. Sept. 1st 1923 a great earthquake struck the Tokyo region. Near the epicenter was Usami village, where no one was killed or injured while neighboring villages each had hundreds dead and wounded. How?
The villagers of Usami had an exceptionally long memory. Records, monuments and tales of a huge 1703 quake had been preserved and stories of what happened was still in vivid memory. The locals acted unbelievably fast, evacuations started as soon as the trembling stopped.
An 8m tsunami struck the seaside village only 5 min after the quake. Locals were already arrived at and safe within historical evacuation grounds: temples, bamboo thickets, stands of trees, where their ancestors had marked out safe spots centuries before (circle: 1703 tsunami)
The post town Tsumago-Juku (pop 400) in Japan was founded in 1601. In 1960 it took a unique decision to dedicate itself to its own preservation by three golden rules: "No selling, no letting, no destroying." Every renovation or rebuilding even of private homes is done in common.
The town's main income is obviously tourism, but in order to preserve the town the locals figured out a method where they build and renovate as much as possible by themselves, together. One ex. is the town's six remaining "ancient style" ishiokiyane: shingle roofs held by rocks.
The roofs are made of wood shingles, only the bottom row nailed, the rest held down by horizontal battens and rocks. They are relaid every few years, broken shingles discarded, leaks fixed etc. Work is led by the most skilled townsperson while a team of 5-20 volunteers help out.