Unlike the other schools, in San Andrés (Colombia) and Semarang (Indonesia) which were held in the premises of grassroots and religious organizations, the Maputo Methods School took place at Eduardo Mondlane University, Mozambique’s main and oldest university. The twelve women who decided to participate as Community Research Assistants (CRAs) traveled every day from Chamanculo C to the university. Although one of them has one daughter who studied there, none had ever set foot inside the campus before. For all of them, the experience felt new.

Every morning we met at 9:00 a.m., shared coffee, tea, and breakfast, and began the day together. The school started timidly; everyone was waiting to see what it would be about. We began by talking about water—its importance in the city’s neighborhoods, its production, and its uneven distribution. From there, our conversations expanded to include the history of the country, the struggle for independence, the meanings of gender, and the history of Chamanculo itself. Chamanculo C, one of the oldest neighborhoods in Maputo’s urban core, was originally part of a segregated “native” zone under Portuguese colonial rule. It developed as a residential area for African workers who built and maintained the colonial city but were not allowed to live in its center. After independence in 1975, Chamanculo remained a space of resilience and creativity: a place where music, informal trade, and community organization flourished.

Little by little, the CRAs became more comfortable in the classroom. They began to share their own stories and their dreams for the neighborhood. Some spoke of how meaningful it felt to write in their notebooks, to learn new research methods, and to walk through the university gates every morning.

The school lasted two weeks. During the first week, the CRAs were introduced to the main themes and objectives of the homescapes project, including the relationship between gender and water, water inequalities, and the project’s interest in analyzing homes as multispecies environments—spaces inhabited not only by humans but also by animals, plants, and microorganisms. They also received a class on Research Ethics, which is essential in the formation of community researchers. Later, CRAs learned how to fill out Water Diaries, practiced taking photos and recording videos and audio, and experimented with the Body Mapping method, using their own stories and bodies as living archives of experience.

During the second week, the focus shifted to learning and practicing how to conduct Relational Interviews and Life Histories. The CRAs also learned how to upload and share data safely. The final session was dedicated to Water Quality, where they practiced how to carry out physical (organoleptic) analyses—using color, smell, and taste to identify the basic properties of water.

The last days were filled with nostalgia and reflection. Some of the younger CRAs confided that they wanted to continue studying at the university. Their dreams of pursuing education had been postponed by family obligations and economic hardship. Several of them earn a living through informal activities such as selling charcoal or peanuts, preparing food for sale, or working as hairdressers.

The workshop was conducted in Balai RW 15, the neighborhood hall. Approaching the entrance, we passed through a small edible garden, with basil, chili, Brazilian spinach and many varieties of flowers that are neatly kept. This greenery signals more than subsistence: it is an expression of ‘collective care’ that frames the building beyond just as a state provision, but as a living extension of community labor and pride.

Mapping the Body:

The first session began at 09:00hr, with an introduction by Atina, the PhD researcher in Semarang. CRAs revisited body mapping, a method first introduced during an earlier methods school, which was refined with new guidance. Worked in pairs, CRAs documented their water practices and mosquito exposures on their bodies.

These include moments spent cleaning their homes, cooking, caring for their children, and even relaxing while lying on bed or watching TV. For instance, they colored their shoulders red with wavy lines to symbolize the physical strain of mopping the floor or lifting heavy pots filled with water for cooking. Some CRAs add red and black dots on their legs and hands to represent the memories of mosquito bites or the sensation of stepping in tidal floodwaters. These maps captured not only pain and vulnerability, but also happiness and affection. For example, a pink heart drawn on the chest signifies the joy of having a clean home, well-cared-for children, and the pleasure of stroking their cats. Testimonies and interactive presentations allowed participants to expand their drawings, weaving personal stories into visual narratives.

Lunch was a moment of bonding. CRAs and Tuti, Riska, Atina, and Cornel sat on the floor, sharing jokes and food. What began as a research collaboration has been growing into friendship and solidarity.

After an hour lunch break, participants split into 5 groups based on their home locations. In groups, they sketched their neighborhoods, marking houses, streets, water wells, communal gardens, gutters, markets, schools, and the sea-belt. They identified both problematic sites—polluted ware, mosquito breeding grounds, unsafe areas; as well as those safe, comfortable places. The exercise revealed how spaces also changed over time.

One CRA pointed to the sketch and reflected: "This watery area used to have white sand where my friends and I played after school. I remember there were mangroves and pandan trees (Pandanus odorifer), but now they are gone. All that remains is water; there is no longer any sand, and no kids play here anymore."

In the session on Labour, Work and Agency, Jeimy and Lucie explained the making and unmaking of water and home infrastructures in the New Guinne neighbourhood. Their presentation centered home-compound crises. Shifting focus from municipal infrastructures to domestic ones –zinc roofs, low-grade concrete walls, wells, cisterns, tanks, and buckets– it examined gendered labor, as women mediate and manage everyday compound crises. Warm air and frequent rain increase humidity, and porous materials contribute to indoor dampness in homes that lack proper sealing, creating an ideal environment for mold. Moreover, rain and groundwater which are stored in and around the home, trigger other health risks as stagnant water interacts with rotting materials, microbes and mosquitoes. The session was insightful as it allowed us to situate gendered infrastructural (unrecognized) labor in a global sphere of poorly compensated labor, delving into the politics of unions in the UK, factories in China and remote workers in the Czech Republic.

In the session on Tourism and Travel, Velislava explored the links between tourism development, water insecurity, and gender. She argued that the prioritization of water for tourism development at the expense of the local populations has differential impacts on men and women, as women have traditionally been socialized and assigned the responsibility of caring for the home. This responsibility includes a set of inherently water-demanding tasks, as well as domestic water supply and management. As a result, in situations of crisis, women are often the first to bear the consequences of fluctuations in water, both in terms of quantity and quality. The session was varied, on subjects such as a route of pilgrims in Irán, art in tourism in Martinique, and the history of tourism in Croatia. These different visions on tourism allowed us to engage in a provocative conversation on how academia can or should engage in public discussions to face challenges such as climate change or particular political conditions that affect the local populations, in touristic places.

Questions and comments from the audience encouraged us to refine our work, and consider new directions for further investigation. We engaged on rich discussions about urban homes and how these homes are embedded on broader ecological, social, political, and economic transformations. Similarly, the exchange on methods showed us that the HOMESCAPES project is part of a growing movement toward creative, multimodal, and collaborative research practices.

During the first week, the project's objectives were introduced. Coordinators emphasized the importance of studying water and domestic waterscapes and discussed the principles and caveats behind research ethics. The team learned how to draw and reflect on body maps and how to write water diaries. In these diaries CRAs narrate their daily activities, describing, drawing, recording, and photographing everyday experiences with water, service outages, rain harvesting, groundwater uses, and water in general. Besides discussing these methods, CRAs conducted abundant exercises while operating OPPO A60 android phones and familiarizing themselves with the Survey123 app to record their water diaries.

In the second week, we learned how to conduct relational interviews, and develop life histories. That is, open-ended, participant-led conversations aimed at tracing life trajectories and uncovering embedded ecological knowledge, gendered labor, and cultural memories. The Methods School concluded with a reflective session in which CRAs and other researchers shared their thoughts, aspirations, and concerns regarding the project. This session underscored the importance of listening to local experiences and understanding the inequalities surrounding access to opportunities and water. CRAs took an active role in sharing their experiences and stories, enriching the learning environment for everyone involved by ending each day by repeating the motto “Luar Biasa!” (“exceptional” in Bahasa Indonesia).

Beside the academic learning, the school also built a strong sense of team work and camaraderie. One special moment was the celebration at the end of the program. We had a cake with the “Ruang Domestik” logo on it and walked the streets of Tambaklorok. We visited community spaces such as the fish auction house, the fish market and community gardens. In front of the market, we danced to a song by Difarina Indra, with neighborhood residents and fish sellers.

The workshop was organized around three thematic stations, distributed throughout the room, taking into account the children's affinities and age ranges. Each group of children rotated through the stations. They explored questions about their everyday lives, their homes, neighborhood, and environments. They also reflected on their emotions surrounding water and animals.

In the station, “all the corners of my home”, children were asked to draw their homes. They were asked to point out the places they like and dislike the most, as well as to relate feelings, routines, and emotional ties with those spaces. The station “animals of my neighborhood”, invited children to classify animals according to different emotions: animals they like, animals they are afraid of, disgusted by, or do not like. Through the use of pencils, colors and stickers, children shared stories about the neighborhood of Nueva Guinea. Finally, in the station “mosquitoes and me,” children drew their own bodies and represented their experiences with mosquitoes: how they “feel” mosquitoes on their skin? what do they do when they are bitten? and how do they think mosquitoes are born? Children were asked to use drawings and stickers to answer these questions.

Thanks to the support of Professor Ana Isabel Marquez, the group of bachelor students —who are inhabitants of the city preparing to become environmental engineers—engaged in this powerful research method, originally learned by the CRAs in the Homescapes Methods School held in February. Through the process, students and CRAs explored environmental and health concerns affecting their communities, offering fresh insights into the intersection between geography, politics, and personal experiences.

Elimeled Pardo, one of the CRAs who participated shared her impressions, describing the experience as “spectacular” (“spectacular”). Although the concept of embodied experience was difficult to explain, several students were eager to engage in discussions. The workshop opened up conversations about water infrastructures in the island homes and on the ways in which communities interact with water daily. By the end, the participants felt comfortable and welcomed, and the CRAs expressed enthusiasm: they learned this method in February, have been using it for three months, and not they can teach it to others.

The workshop unfolded in two parts. In the morning session, CRAs revisited body mapping, an visual methodology they had begun during the previous methods school and which they have also started to conduct on their own. With new feedback and guidance, the body mapping process was expanded and refined, allowing participants to visually explore and document how water practices and mosquito exposure affect their physical wellbeing. Each body map was followed by a testimonio, where CRAs described their drawings, offering rich narratives that complemented the visual work.

After lunch, the second session shifted focus toward spatial mapping. Divided into three groups, CRAs collectively sketched their neighborhood, including streets, homes, and key water infrastructures such as wells, septic tanks, cisterns, and public water connections. Importantly, they also mapped the presence of mosquitoes and other more-than-human beings that share their environments.

The Life Histories Workshop focused on creating space for Raizal women and community members to share intergenerational narratives about the island, New Guinne neighborhood, as well as socio-ecological practices, such as medicinal and food gardening, and the preservation of the Creole language. Using photographs, they documented changes in their environment caused by tourism, development, and government policies, as well as spaces where cultural traditions thrive. The workshop highlighted the resilience of the Raizal community and the vital role of women in sustaining their heritage. Through collective reflection, participants emphasized the importance of passing down traditions to future generations to ensure the continuity of their cultural and ecological identity. Overall, by weaving together oral histories, photography, and communal dialogue, the workshop created a vital space for Raizal women and their community to voice their stories, celebrate their traditions, and confront the challenges shaping their lives and land.

In a parallel session, the workshop “Stories of Migration” was held with the participation of CRAs from different regions of Colombia who have made San Andres their home. In preparation for the workshop, the CRAs shared photos of their hometowns and the places they liked in San Andres. Each of them talked about their place of origin, the reasons why they migrated, and the process of adapting to the new city. As many of them came to live in San Andres more than 20 or 30 years ago, they narrated the history of the neighborhood New Guinne, which they have inhabited for so long and have helped to build. Furthermore, some women shared how they have taken on the task of improving the neighborhood's streets and are carrying out activities to raise funds to improve the roads and water infrastructure. These activities are carried out in the hope that in the future their children can continue to belong to this neighborhood, that their grandchildren will be able to play in the streets and enjoy community life.

The workshop was divided into two interconnected parts. The first centered around building an Ecological Calendar of Water Insecurity. Through group discussions and storytelling the participants reflected on seasonal rhythms and how they are being reshaped by shifting climate patterns and tourism flows. This calendar was developed through three thematic layers: first, we explored environmental and tourism fluctuations—how rainfall, droughts, and high tourist seasons overlap and influence access to water. Then, participants described how these environmental changes affect daily practices, from cooking and cleaning to caring for domestic water infrastructures. Finally, the women shared the emotional and psychological toll of living with chronic water insecurity, revealing feelings of stress, resilience, frustration, and adaptation.

The second part of the workshop focused on Counter-Mapping San Andrés. Using large-scale printed maps, drawing tools, and digital resources, the CRAs collaboratively remapped the island from their own perspectives. Instead of tourist landmarks or administrative zones, these maps highlighted places of inclusion and exclusion, places of water abundance and scarcity, key community resources, and the routes they walk daily. This exercise allowed the women to challenge dominant narratives about the island and assert their spatial knowledge and priorities.

The school aimed to create a base for the project, engaging the CRAs in the research process. Under the motto: "everybody trains, everybody gains", this school was essential in the recognition of the role of the local community in the knowledge production. Participants not only are going to offer interviews. They are assistant researchers who are willing to tell their own stories. In that sense, during the school, participants were introduced to various research methods. The first week of the school focused on introducing the project's objectives, the importance of studying water and domestic landscapes, and the ethical considerations of research. Participants learned about ethnographic methods, including how to conduct interviews, create body maps, and write autobiographical accounts. They also practiced using mobile apps like Survey123 to document their daily water-related activities and analyze water quality. The second week delved deeper into specific methods, such as relational interviews, photo-voice techniques, and the creation of life histories.

Beyond the academic and methodological training, the school also fostered a strong sense of community. We enjoyed amazing lunches every day, and during breaks, the CRAs and the project team had the opportunity to get to each other, creating a social atmosphere that helped build confidence and trust. This social element was crucial in making the CRAs feel comfortable and supported in their roles. A particularly touching moment occurred when the CRAs surprised one of the master students working on the project with a birthday celebration. They fundraised among themselves to buy a cake, balloons, and drinks, introducing the foreign students to the Colombian culture of celebrating.

The event opened Monday (23/09) at the VMA Building, where Tatiana Acevedo-Guerrero, Principal Investigator of HOMESCAPES, delivered introductory remarks outlining the workshop’s objectives and research challenges. The opening panel, “How do we engage with water?” brought together three perspectives on water, both material and political. The first panel, by Angela Maria Bayona (Leeds University in UK), explored community engagement with water, focusing on the ecology of water quality, health risks and the role of microorganisms. Alejandro Camargo (Universidad del Norte in Colombia) followed with a thought-provoking reflection on “disastrous and other waters”, emphasizing the complex narratives surrounding water in vulnerable contexts. Sara Blanco Ramirez (Universitat Zurich in Switzerland) extended the panel by sharing insights on citizen science and community-based monitoring. All three speakers also participated in the master class “Introduction to Political Ecology” and shared their experiences related to “how to study the political ecology of water.”