2005 Tinker Summer Research Report Forest Kaser Energy and Resources Group "Assessing the Sustainability of a Household UV Disinfection Technology in Rural Baja California Sur, Mexico"

As is happening in many rural places around the world, the youth of the ranchero communities of Baja California Sur, Mexico are increasingly moving to the cities.

When we finished tying down the bulky cardboard boxes to the roof of our red SUV, it finally looked ready to do some real work. Packed as densely as the physics major in our group could manage, our vehicle was set to carry our clothes, books, computers, and scientific instruments 1,300 miles to the southern end of the Baja California peninsula. As I settled in the cushioned seats and rolled down the tinted window for a last gulp of cool Berkeley air, I was struck by the thought of how different our journey would be if we were traveling the opposite direction, if we were undocumented Mexicans looking for work in the U.S. instead of passport-holding graduate students aiming to conduct a research project in rural Baja California Sur. Rather than cramming as many things as possible into a giant, expensive, conspicuous vehicle, we might be lightening our loads, hunkering down somewhere hidden, waiting for a coyote of questionable character to load us into his van and secret us across the desert in the middle of the night.

In a way, the research our team hoped to do in Mexico was intimately connected with migrant workers. The focus of our study was the field evaluation of an inexpensive device that used ultraviolet light to disinfect water. For three of us, one of the main attractions of the project was its potential to improve the quality of life in rural communities. Our personal experiences in Bolivia, Mexico, Peru, and Namibia had left us with a deep appreciation for rural peoples, cultures, and landscapes. We saw in the global movement out of the countryside and into the cities something to be lamented at worst, stopped in its tracks at best, and slowed if possible. Following in the footsteps of the many advocates of intermediate and appropriate technology that came before us, we imagined developing an effective technology that was affordable, easy to use, and built using local labor and resources to make life in the campo more comfortable. In turn, the involvement of local people in the construction and use of such technologies might reduce the need for migration to cities or other countries.

The ride to the border was full of the usual kind of good-natured banter that makes for dull copy but great fun: Flying Fermin, the former physicist and wild-haired native choyero who recruited us all to join him in this trip to his homeland, flashing his short, boyish teeth with a mischievous grin as he quizzed us in Spanish on our knowledge of local acronyms; Mindful Micah, the calm, bespectacled, budding social scientist regaling us with tales from his extensive travels around the world or recounting in his deep, confident baritone the qualities that make the Porsche 911 the coolest car ever made; Princess Margaret, the beautiful, successful, former Enron employee, BMW owner, and incorrigible business student, her head cocked to one side to cradle her cell phone while her fingers scrambled across the IBM ThinkPad in her lap, fielding calls and getting things done all the way until we could see the gargantuan Mexican flag billowing in the distance; and me, Forest, a biologist by training, a one-time electrician, a returned Peace Corps volunteer, sucking in the gorgeous Californian vistas with the pride of a native son.

The drive from the Mexico border to La Paz, Baja California Sur, Mexico, where we would be based for the next two months was harrowing at first. The two lane “highway” that runs down the length of the peninsula is approximately as a wide as one lane on the Interstate 5 in California Norte. Semi tractor-trailers often occupied more than half of that width, leaving my knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel and my forehead moist with perspiration. After several hours of failing to be involved in a head-on collision, however, I started to believe that we might survive the trip.

We sped our way through an impressive diversity of bioregions, starting in agricultural lowlands, coiling through sparse mountain ranges and racing across a low, flat desert that was dominated by a surprisingly dense thicket of cactuses and small trees. Our final destination welcomed us with a harbor so blue it hurt to look at, where the gentlest waves imaginable caressed a beach of bleached white sand. The ocean idyll would be merely a backdrop, however. We soon began a frenetic work schedule that saw us working long hours, seven days a week, not stopping for a true vacation until our last week in the city.

Many rural communities in Baja California Sur, Mexico depend on wells such as this for all of their drinking water. Unfortunately, many show signs of contamination with E. coli, suggesting they are exposed to the risk of contracting diseases spread by the fecal-oral route of transmission.

Our overall goal was to determine whether our UV disinfection devices were a good way to get clean water to people in rural communities. We planned to install a number of units, called AquatUVos, in two or more rural communities somewhere in the desert of Southern Baja California. We wanted to see how well the devices, which had passed lab tests with flying colors, fared in the rougher, less controlled field environment where they would be operated by regular people on a daily basis. We also hoped to gain insight from the users on how to improve the design to make it easier to use.

Micah headed up our research on the social and cultural context in which water was used, helping us to assess whether the AquatUVo would be appropriate for the region. Margaret’s charge was to interview people at local businesses, government agencies, and nonprofit organizations to determine what the best way of distributing the UV Tube might be. I was mainly responsible for the microbiological testing of the devices in the field. Fermin had come up with the basic design for the AquatUVo but also worked out a few final wrinkles before we started to install them. Fermin, being the project initiator and de-factor coordinator, not to mention local and native Spanish-speaker, was involved in every aspect of the project. In fact, we all did a little bit of everything making the project a truly integrated, interdisciplinary effort.

The first half of the summer was mostly spent setting up the field study. Working with a local government agency that provided schools and school materials to small rural communities, we created a short list of 10 communities to investigate for possible involvement in our study. After traveling to each community, talking with local people, and testing the water quality, we chose two communities to receive the AquatUVos. In both communities, the primary water quality problem seemed to be biological contamination, making them good candidates for the technology. Every single family we asked was interested in receiving one of our units, giving us a total of 24 installations. The second half of the summer consisted of an alternation between weekly visits to the communities to collect microbiological and social data on the functioning and use of the AquatUVos and a flurry of interviews of members of the various institutions in the city that might become involved in AquatUVo construction and distribution should it prove to be an effective and economic technology.

In the end, we were able to get done a substantial amount of the work we intended to do, which was gratifying. Although the data has not yet been thoroughly analyzed, the devices seemed to be easy for people to use and to work effectively to eliminate pathogens. We are hopeful that the AquatUVo and similar technologies will become useful tools for helping rural residents gain access to clean drinking water without having to leave behind their unique cultures.