Coal on the cob

Second in a series

Previously: Part one

---

KAKAMEGA, Kenya -- LEAMIS founder Debra Snellen and my teammate Jan Schilling viewed the corn cob charcoal workshop, like many of LEAMIS's cottage industry workshops, mainly as a way to help people improve their own individual lives.

But Bishop Paul Mbithi sees it as part of a larger issue for his country.

During my 2009 trip to Kenya, the top news story was about the Mau Forest, one of Kenya's key watersheds. Squatters -- some intentionally breaking the law, others deceived by sellers with no rights to the property -- had cleared so much timber in the watershed that it was beginning to affect the watershed. The big debate last year was what to do about the squatters and how to sort out the criminals from the victims and remove them in a just and compassionate manner but without inciting violence.

The debate apparently raised awareness of environmental and water quality issues, and Paul Mbithi believes that anything that would allow a Kenyan to use charcoal made from household scraps rather than wood helps to protect Kenya's woodlands, and ultimately its water supply.

Debra, who was not able to go on the trip, had been the one to work with Paul in advance and make the arrangements for which workshops would be taught.

Better burn

Last year, in Malaba, Wayne Lenhart of Kansas taught the making of bio-fuel briquettes, a process which uses organic scrap materials mixed into a slurry and compressed into cylinders using a sawhorse-sized wooden press. But bio-fuel briquettes had not turned out to be as useful as hoped based on the materials available in Kenya, and we thought the corn cob briquettes would turn out better. They did.

Since there were only two of us coming from the U.S., and I would be busy with the water workshops I described yesterday, we asked Jan to teach charcoal-making rather than her usual candle-making workshop. Jan is a veteran of both domestic and foreign short-term mission trips, as well as a dear friend, and she's nothing if not flexible. She agreed, and began making batches of charcoal at her home in Smyrna to practice the technique.

How it's done

Here's how it works: a small drum or pot has holes cut in the bottom and is rested on several large rocks to hold it above the ground and allow air to flow underneath. Dry, spent corn cobs are layered with a kindling material -- in Kakamega, that meant banana leaves. I'm not sure what Jan used for her test runs in Smyrna.

The cobs are burned, and at first they produce lots of white smoke. Eventually, the smoke dies out and is replaced by flame. At that point, the pot is placed directly on the ground, preventing any air from reaching the bottom holes, and a lid is slapped onto it to prevent any air from getting in on top.

The pot and lid which the Kenyans had found for Jan to use during the workshop did not fit perfectly, and when the lid was slapped on the first time, smoke continued to ooze out of some of the holes. Jan's students suggested using mud to seal the gaps -- a terrific and useful suggestion, which worked like a charm.

When the pot cools down, what remains inside it are corn cob briquettes which (since all of the moisture and volatile chemicals have been removed) burn clean and hot. In Kenya, cooking over a fire sometimes takes place under roof, inside the kitchen, so smoke is a bad thing.

Jan's first two batches resulted in a mix of fully-charcoalized cobs and other cobs that were only partly burned, perhaps because the drum we were using in Kakamega was larger than the one she'd used for her practice runs. She was discouraged at first, but the cobs were easily sorted through and the unburnt cobs could simply be burned a second time, with no harm done.

The cobs that did turn out burned perfectly, much to the delight of everyone in attendance.

Briquettes and bananas

In addition to the corn cob briquettes, Jan showed how to use the leftover charcoal dust to make homemade briquettes, using bananas as a binder. The briquettes are smaller than those we taught the people of Malaba to make last year, and they appear to burn better.

The charcoal-dust briquettes are supposed to dry for several days, but some of Jan's students tried to speed up the process by placing the briquettes on top of an already-burning fire. Even though they were rush-dried, they, too, seemed to burn well.

While Jan was teaching the charcoal-making workshop, her old candle-making workshop -- and the soap-making workshop I taught in 2005 and 2006 -- did not lie fallow. William Kimanzi, a member of the church in Nairobi's Kibera slums which is our primary contact point in Kenya, taught both workshops, a terrific example of how LEAMIS hopes the cottage industry workshops can spread virally and become a way for people in our host countries to benefit themselves.

I'm not sure William realized that I had once taught soap-making; he probably learned it last year, when it was taught by Kim Lachler of North Carolina. In any case, he seemed to be doing a great job (although he taught directly in Swahili, so I couldn't follow along). In addition to the lye soap-making I've taught previously, he taught his students how to put together a liquid soap from chemicals which I assume he purchased in Nairobi.

Jan and I did have to chuckle a little bit at William's blue lab coat. He told Jan he wore it to protect himself from the lye used in soap-making, but we couldn't help noticing he wore it on the days he taught candle-making as well. I think he liked the air of expertise. When his safety goggles weren't on his eyes they were resting above the brim of his floppy hat, giving him a somewhat eccentric, mad-scientist appearance.

Cool idea

One workshop we wish we'd gotten to earlier in the week was pot-in-pot refrigeration, a way for people without refrigerators to be able to store food in a slightly cooler and safer environment than might otherwise be available. Two unglazed clay pots are soaked with water and nested, one inside the other, with wet sand in between them. As long at the contraption is kept wet, evaporation will help to keep it cool, along with anything placed inside the inner pot.

Jan got to demonstrate the basic concept, but not until the last day, and so there was no chance for the pot to cool down and for us to demonstrate how cool it gets.

TOMORROW: Gag me with cilantro