Dr Sunita Reddy is an Associate Professor at Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU) and founder chair of Anthropos India Foundation.
The author explores some of the features of indigenous houses that make them earthquake resistant and how they have endured the test of time.
As a child visiting my grandparent’s village every summer, the mud walls and thatched roof gave a scenic and serene look to the landscape, which were cooler in summer and warmer in winters. As an anthropologist visiting the ‘janjati’, ‘vanjati’ ‘adivasi’ administratively speaking, the scheduled tribes’ always showcased their simplicity and symbiotic relationship with nature. Culturally speaking, they are the ones who live sustainable lives sharing the minimum resources, caring for each other through community living. In the 90s, when we, as master’s students, went to the tribal hamlets in Khammam district of Andhra Pradesh, we saw a mango tree full of ripe fruits, yet un-plucked which intrigued me. When I asked a boy, he shared, ‘we have not celebrated the mango festival yet; once we celebrate, we will pluck all fruits and share in the hamlet’. Such was the case in most of the Adivasi communities, having common properties and sharing culture.
Traditional Houses and Traditional Wisdom
Indigenous peoples around the world have developed unique and effective techniques for building houses that can withstand natural disasters, including earthquakes. These techniques have been passed down through generations and refined over time to create structures that are functional but also beautiful, and sustainable. One of the key features of indigenous houses that make them earthquake resistant is their use of natural materials. These houses are typically made from materials readily available in the local environment, such as wood, bamboo, mud, grass and stone. These materials are flexible and can bend and sway without breaking during an earthquake. Additionally, they are often lightweight and can be easily moved and reassembled if needed. These materials are also more sustainable than modern construction materials, as they have a smaller environmental impact and are often less expensive.
Another feature of indigenous houses that makes them earthquake resistant is their design. Indigenous architects and builders have developed unique designs that take consider climate, terrain, and seismic activity. For example, in the Philippines, the Ifugao people build their houses on stilts to protect them from floods and earthquakes. The stilts allow the house to sway during an earthquake without collapsing, and they also provide ventilation to keep the house cool in hot weather. In Japan, traditional houses are built with a wooden frame that allows them to flex and absorb the shock of an earthquake. The roofs of these houses are often made from heavy tiles that provide additional weight to anchor the structure to the ground. In addition to their use of natural materials and unique designs, indigenous houses are also often built with a deep respect for the environment and the local culture. These houses are typically designed to be in harmony with the natural world, with features such as green roofs that help to insulate the house and provide a habitat for local wildlife. Additionally, indigenous houses often incorporate cultural traditions and practices into their design and construction. For example, the Navajo people of North America use sandstone to build their houses and incorporate patterns and symbols into the walls that reflect their spiritual beliefs and connection to the land.
Lessons from field
As I got interested in the field of disaster studies, I became more observant, of the natural settings in which people live, a method ‘observation’ which I use where ever I go as a field worker. From the longitudinal research in Andaman- Nicobar Islands from 2005- 2010, I saw unintended consequences of the post-tsunami rehabilitation among the Nicobarese Islanders, which culminated in a monograph ‘Clash of Waves: Post Tsunami Relief and Rehabilitation’ 2013. One of the interesting aspects which I observed was the Nicobarese houses… They lived in ‘Tuhets’ where one can hear the sweet and playful sounds of children, adults and elderly living together in joint and extended families. Nicobarese lived in houses made by the elder population, with the natural resources available around; bamboos, trees, grass and leaves which stood strong on the stilts despite strong winds. The stilted houses, close to the ocean, swing but don’t fall, with porous bamboo walls, lots of air and light soaking into the houses, and they lived with minimum assets.
Post tsunami, the top down planning led to concrete high maintenance expensive pucca houses, called ‘tsunami houses’ which had seepage in the first monsoon, as witnessed in 2010. These houses are not sustainable and need heavy maintenance. Even though Nicobarese were asking for just the simple tools to build their own homes with the natural resources around. The administration was wary of cutting trees and having relief funds and humanitarian aid, which came in like another ‘tsunami’ for building permanent houses, spending 7 to 10 lakhs from 2007 to 2010. However, some of the Nicobarese in Chowra Island built their own houses gradually and continued to live their traditional life without disturbing their social fabric. Whereas the joint families in other Islands like Kamorta, disintegrated into nuclear families given the compensation going to individuals and houses to couples and their children. There came dramatic changes in the cashless economy.
During our visit to Arunachal pradesh in 2019, as part of my research to learn from the communities their traditional healing systems, we stumbled upon a house which was under construction in a village near Pasighat. To our pleasant surprise, the house was constructed in two days after the foundation pillars were laid, where the builders, masons, and laborers were none other than the villagers as community living. On the first day they got the natural resources and laid the structure, and on the second day, the house was up to be inhabited. We saw more
than 50 people around the house, the children on the stilted deck playing and posing for the camera in front of the old house, with mothers making food in the kitchen and backyard. Men making bamboo thatch and even making a dustbin were busy laying the roof of the new house.
The head of the village proudly shared the concept of community involvement, he said, ‘we don’t mind if a person in the village does not turn up for death or funeral, but they will not be pardoned if they do not come and help in making the house’, so the whole village comes together to make a house. A house which is easy on mother earth and earthquake resistant. We as researchers were welcomed, they fed us with rice and pork in nicely packed banana leaves. We sat there enjoying their food, company, and wondering how simply and sustainably they are living.
The houses are mostly on stilts, where they leave space below for the livestock- hen, cock, goats and pigs. The floor of the house is porous, where the food grains can just be thrown down for the hen to pick. The hearth is in the middle of the house, the family sits around, cook and eats, and the rooms are smaller and on one side. The houses are more functional that is where ‘design anthropology’ comes in, to make ‘culturally appropriate and eco-friendly’ houses to be built. Across other parts of the Northeast regions, I saw many beautiful houses in Sikkim villages, where mud walls and thatched roofs are the norms. Some of the traditional houses in Nagaland are beautifully painted with their totems on the walls stand beautifully and artistically. My recent visit to Jharkhand saw some amazing houses of Munda tribe made of mud and walls painted beautifully.
Not the Earthquakes it’s the Houses that kill
We need to differentiate between ‘natural phenomenon’, and ‘social phenomenon’ Disasters are ‘social phenomenon,’ when natural events like earthquakes happen, it’s the interface with humans and, more specifically, the buildings and houses which we build and live in, kills people. In my lifetime, I have witnessed earthquake incidences that have killed thousands of people in Latur, Kashmir, Nepal earthquake and now in Turkey. We will witness many more in future. It’s not the earthquakes, which kill people, but the houses that we make that kill people. Modernity has brought in concrete houses and the so-called ‘development’ is seen in these pucca and high-rise houses. With the growing urbanisation and need to build homes for people, high-rise buildings are inevitable, but following building codes can save lots of lives. To live sustainably and simple lives, we need to introspect and live with nature, we need to question the ‘development’ paradigm. We need to look around and observe whether these houses we live in are the death traps in case of an earthquake.
The houses in the hills, hill slopes, and cities with seismic zones of level 4 and 5, where there is high risk and hazard of facing earthquakes of the intensity of above 5 Richter scale, should be made of natural material and follow building codes. The traditional houses can sustain any strong tremor as there are no fears of falling bricks and walls. Even in urban spaces there are some good examples of mud houses and houses built with recycled materials.
Despite the many advantages of indigenous houses, modern construction techniques and materials have often replaced these traditional methods. However, there is a growing recognition of the value of indigenous knowledge and practices, particularly in the context of climate change and natural disasters. Governments, NGOs, and individuals are increasingly looking to indigenous communities for guidance on sustainable and resilient construction methods that can help to mitigate the impacts of natural disasters such as earthquakes. As they say ‘ignorance is bliss’, as long as I was not into disaster studies, I enjoyed the beauty and charm of the hills and valleys without fear. Now when I visit hills, be it Gangtok, Shimla, Kullu Manali, seeing the beautiful houses but precariously built, my understanding of hazards, risk, and vulnerability make me anxious and sad. Delhi, too has high-rise buildings without following building codes, and the thought of an earthquake brings shivers. We need to map every nook and corner and identify the riskiest places. There is an urgent need to do hazard mapping of each and every building and locality, identify the high-risk buildings, and earmark them to either modify or rebuild, make the public aware of the risks and some do’s and don’ts in case of an earthquake, some mock drills to prevent losses. If possible, bring down the old and dilapidated buildings, retrofit them, and strictly follow the building codes to prevent any disasters. It will take some resources to do this exercise, but I am sure it will be much less than the losses we can foresee, not just material but emotional also to see the loved ones buried under and some witnessing helplessly. I don’t want to leave on this pessimistic note, but learn from the warnings nature is giving, wake up and start living a sustainable life every day. Each of us has the responsibility to leave this earth for the generations to come to cherish this beautiful world.
In conclusion, indigenous houses offer a powerful example of how traditional knowledge and practices can contribute to sustainable and resilient housing solutions. By using natural materials, unique designs, and a deep respect for the environment and local culture, indigenous houses have proven effective in withstanding earthquakes and other natural disasters. As the world faces the challenges of climate change and increased natural disasters, we can look to the knowledge and practices of indigenous peoples for inspiration and guidance in creating more sustainable and resilient communities.