Hooching the Homeless

Well, well—today on the morning trot I was absolutely convinced I could combat global warming, solve once and for all the problem of the homeless, and provide visual delight to an island in need of it.

Hey, pretty good for a morning’s walk, right?

Well, I was informed over the dinner table that no, it’s not such a great idea.

Readers of this blog will know of my interest, actually my passion, for tree houses. It’s like Mom and apple pie—who could be indifferent, much less averse, to a tree house?

Readers may not know that Puerto Rico has a lot of bamboo, which Mr. Fernández avers was brought in to keep the roads from eroding in the earlier part of the last century. And like the iguanas, that bamboo has done well. About the only thing that can stop it is the road itself.

Readers of the blook—and by the way, sales are terrible, buy it please—will know that I am not a fan of contemporary Puerto Rican architecture. Right, when the population was exploding in the 50’s, nobody had any time for aesthetics (except, of course, for hair…). And yes, there are exceptions. But face it: the average Puerto Rican house is a cement box with windows punched into it. Hot, airless, and dark.

“But what about the hurricanes,” cried the students, when I suggested—very delicately—that there might be other materials than concrete to use in construction.

“When was the last hurricane?” I’d ask.

…’bout a decade ago.

And when was the last time you sat outside, enjoyed the night breezes, shared a chat with your friends?

They go to the Hilton for that….

It was no use.

Why not work with nature, not against it? Why not build a series of bohíos—little Puerto Rican huts—and link them in with thatched-roofed pathways and make it all very simple and rustic and then, when the hurricane comes, put all the stuff that’s truly important (electronics does come to mind) in a concrete room, where you’ve stockpiled the salchichas and the beer. Then, when you come out, well, you just rebuild! And look, you always get stuff wrong the first try or two, so on the third or fourth rendition, you’ll have the morning bohío perfectly sited to catch the breezes, and the evening bohío perfectly placed to see the stars.

Well, one person in the room liked the idea….

“Crime,” they chorused.

Bougainvillea, I cried. Nobody can get through the stuff—nature’s barbed wire!

“What, and have the baby run into it and poke her eye out!!?”

It’s deeply ingrained, this phobia of nature. And it may be —hold onto your seat here—a class thing as well. Mr. Fernández suspects that the majority of Puerto Ricans are a little too close to their jíbaro (peasant) past. Abuela may have grown up with the chickens roosting under the stilted-wooden house. We have concrete!

Well, it turns out I’m not alone. Some guy in the western part of the island felt the same way, and guess what!

He’s a gringo!

And quite an interesting guy. Where did he get the idea of the hooch? Well, he never says, and to a not-very-engineerical (lump it, computer!) person, I’m a little unclear as to the mechanics of it all. Better to let him explain it:

The hooch is an evolutionary, revolutionary building system that turns architectural conventions on its head. It stands on a single point, and maintains its balance by a web of cables to the surrounding trees. The foundation is minimal. In fact, the hooch holds the record for the smallest foundation of any land based building. The advantage? Minimal disruption of the site, and environment; quick and economical construction (no foundation); and easy dismantling, in the event that the hooch is moved. The hooch is an ideal structure for a place of respite in an environmentally sensitive area. I built a 10' by 10' version for a friend along a riverbank. The site did not lose one fern, a species abundant in the understory of the forest.

The treehouse requires no special engineering, or architectural design to fit in a particular tree. It stands among the trees, and relies on them for support. It is intimately entwined with the trees, and yet does no damage or requires any alteration of the site. The design has been worked out for quick and accurate pre-fabrication of the components- away from the site. Quickly assembled and situated at the site, the hooch is raised up by a pulley system and secured -perfectly level.
An architectural gem, the triangular shape maintains rigidity, yet is free to move about its foundation, flexing as a unit.

The redundant cable system is self correcting—any stress or distortion is quickly relieved back to the original position.
As a place of respite, the hooch served its purpose well—whether in the backyard, or along a mountain stream. It is safe, secure, and above it all.
After a warm reception of every hooch I've built, I now offer plans, kits, and complete construction services for everyone. I have plans and specs for a 6' by 6 , 8' by 8', and 10' by 10' version (floor area). Our 6' by 6' backyard hooch served well in our backyard of a rental house. Last year, we moved to our new mortgaged house. The hooch proved itself as a ephemeral architectural gem. It was dismantled, and moved in a few days. It now has its place among a grove of douglas fir trees, with a killer view of Mt. Ashland. Check out these other sites for even more perspective on the hooch. 

Right, maybe a picture would help….

What a tremendously cool idea! Wow—what a stunner! My palms are sweating, so eager am I to get my hands on that ladder and start climbing.

Mr. Fernández was less impressed.

“I’m not sleeping in any bamboo grove—rats!”

I dispute that, and point out that we can sprinkle some warfarin here and there.

Well, he also wasn’t too excited about my brilliant idea to home the homeless.

Build ‘em hooches!

Maybe it was excess oxygenation of the brain brought on the morning trot, but it seemed logical at the time. We have the bamboo, we have the homeless, why not get ‘em to build their own hooches? Or get the Evangelicals (whose numbers roughly equal the iguanas…) to build them. If you’re homeless, and the rope ladder is down, then you climb up it, pull up the ladder, and bingo! You’re safe! No more sleeping in doorways!

“Fire,” said Mr. Fernández.

“Extinguisher,” I completed.

“What if they trashed it,” he complained.

“Build another!”

“People using ‘em for drugs or rapes,” he said.

“Anyway,” he added, ”I read somewhere that most homeless don’t like shelters. They don’t like rules. You can’t show up drunk or high….”

Well, I understand that. We were on our second bottle of wine—who are we to talk? 

“It’s a good idea,” he said, “just needs more work….” 

I think it’s brilliant, of course…..