Community Living

Community Living - Day 44 March 20

I have a friend, Andrew Percy, who contends that the way almost all of us live in the West is unsustainable.  And worse that the way we have organised our social, political and economic systems can never deliver sufficient correction in the time available to us before catastrophic irreversible damage is done to the resources on which we rely.

Cue: Global suffering on an unprecedented scale; war, famine, horses of the apocalypse etc.

It is a bleak view.  But it is not preposterous.  I was recently told that 25% of the World’s scientists believe that in 100 years the planet will be uninhabitable. I don’t know.  You see things. You read things.  It is wrong not to be concerned about the home we are leaving for our children to occupy.

And Andrew is a pragmatist and is working hard, like many others, to describe a credible escape route.   The changes he proposes to the way we live our lives although incremental are of course profound. https://uklife.org/

We must share more.  We must consume less and with more regard to scarcity, toxicity, waste.  We must live equally and together.  Young and old.  Strong and weak. We must invest practically and equitably in renewables, infrastructure, education, accommodation, technology…. The world and its resources cannot be distributed so unjustly.

I struggle to embrace Andrew’s views because I don’t want to be a hypocrite and yet I don’t want to give up my car and my centrally heated house with its spare bedroom and the extraordinary comfortable and free life that my place in history seems to have allotted me.  So I am fingers crossed for another way; founded on an unlikely but timely technological breakthrough bringing free unlimited energy production to all.  This must come along with exemplary global political leadership handily teamed with an emergent brand of responsible, philanthropic and enlightened multinational corporate capitalism.  All within a harmonious and unified Europe of course. But I am struggling to hold my breath and even a committed ostrich must pull its head up sometimes just to get the sand out of its eyes.  You see things.  You read things.  It aint looking good..

One of the things that has first struck me about staying (we are in our second day) in this school with the extended family of the principal, the teachers and seven young European volunteers is the efficiency of the life style.  All together under the one roof with little plumbing or appliances.  Two small motorcycles. Communal meals.  Frequent power cuts.

We use very little water (purified for drinking, un-purified for washing), petrol, electricity (fans, lights, refrigeration) or food.  The elderly and the young seem cared for and enjoyed, no one can be lonely and there is always something useful to do.  It is a strong and productive unit.  It is a school and a home.  And an important component of the village. It already has a tiny carbon footprint and resource shadow in comparison to my home life.  If it was tweaked a little (less disposable plastic, solar power, capital investment, infrastructure) it could be more comfortable and near totally sustainable.  The village too would need some work but again uses few resources in comparison to my norms.  To be fair this is probably not so true about the big factories who are the local and probably toxic employers of cheap labour for the clothing industry.  I don’t know.

I wonder could we be happy to live like this.  Would we adapt. Together and all.  We have already washed the dishes, painted the new toilet block, taught lessons, been bitten by ants, had constipation, sung songs and played cards under the stars, played football and not slept through sweaty nights in our mosquito net tents on mattresses on the floor and the three of us curled embryo like around our one fan.  We shall see how we feel at the end of the week.  It is pretty rugged here but we are well fed and happy; I think.  So far.  On day two.  I can’t quite imagine though that even if the planet depended on it I could actually choose to live even something like this for ever.  Along with everybody I have ever known.

So come on Donald.  Come on Theresa.  Come on Vladimir. Come on you Atomic Engineers of Harvard and North Korea. Come on you right leaning populists and warmongers.  Come on Amazon.  Come on all of us hypocritical liberals and lefties. What a literal embarrassment of non-team players bent on anything but salvation we are.  Imagine showing this crew off to a visitor from another planet.  "And this is the leader of our most powerful nation." Anyway it is the case that this is what we have to fix everything. Come on guys lets put this place back together before it dumps us.

Or else re-work the whole proposition - Andrew?

Or the Horses of The Apocalypse!

Or (most likely) we could just wait and see.  Surely it will all be fine........

It is a long time since I have painted a wall and even longer since I have painted someone else’s.  Age and prosperity fuel a growing reluctance for physical work and encourage me to leave the labour to others as I earn the money to pay them - and keep a premium on top for myself!  I forget that physical work (as opposed to exercise) is not just an economic equation but is also an important component of a complete spirit.  At least that is what my four hours of toilet painting yesterday seemed to reveal to me.  I was tired.  I had achieved something and it was a gift for somebody else.  Created from my own sweat no less. And I taught a class of laughing children.

A day well spent.  Jo too and Taran who are made of sturdy stuff it seems.  Could we get used to community living?  Day three tomorrow and already I long for the cool water of the swimming pool back home in Battambang next week.  So hopelessly pampered.

There is a chicken.  It has just alighted on the table next to me in the classroom kitchen where I write.  Rice for lunch is cooking on the charcoal stove.  My sandalled feet rest on the sand floor.  I hear laughter from where they are working on the wall. I have promised to help with mixing the plaster.