Sex makes the world go round. Once prejudices and barriers within oneself to this inconvenient truth are dissolved, it will be discovered that sex is involved in every aspect of our being. Through my childhood and my early adult life, sex was a demon that should be locked behind closed doors. Being gay in a conservative macho-hetero-dominant society set the tone for a very complicated upbringing. Only when I moved to the city, after finishing the army service at the age of 24 did I start to explore and express my sexuality. First in the shadows, and gradually, as if every “bang” made another crack in that wall, I was out and proud to be the way I am.
I had no role models to grow up with back in the 90’s. But as I entered my mid-20’s I found role models all around me in the streets of the city. The gay people I met and the friends I made were, to my surprise, “normal” people. Not too extroverted or promiscuous as I was taught, but a whole spectrum of characters that had one simple thing in common — same-sex sexual orientation. Suddenly “gay” was not something dark and filthy, but something as human as every other quality.
Tel Aviv, a city that was always a source of discomfort to me, became home just because it allowed me to express my sexuality for the first time. I AM my sexual orientation. It is in every cell in my body, among many other beautiful and dark things.
The practice of sex is a source of pain and insecurity for many. Sex which is therapeutic, intimate, and compassionate is hard to find even in the modern liberal world where digital interaction is replacing the good old flirt. A non-judgmental and safe space for sexual exploration can do wonders for everyone in its individual process of self development. One of those places is hidden in the mountains of Andalusia, away from the critical eye of mainstream society. Achim, the founder of this “laboratory”, as he calls it, settled here 18 years ago. With the help of many temporary residents and workshops participants, he curated a sex-positive retreat heaven for people who seek to break these walls of shame around their libido.
The lab is nestled in a small valley, scattered with tree houses, small shrines, caves, and one big hot tub that can hold up to 50 people who like to squeeze…
The purpose and the structure of this lab have been under constant change since Achim parked his camper-van on the land 18 years ago, after years of nomadic life between eco-villages and intentional communities.
“This land spoke to me when I saw it, and I bought it immediately.” he says, “In my mind I already had the vision of a temporary experimental space and prior to buying the land I run some ‘garden of senses’ workshops in hotels and retreats. Once the land was mine I just started inviting others to share the experiment and with the years the vision grew and took the shape it has today.”
The laboratory is defined as a space for sexual liberty and exploration of the eros, mostly for heterosexuals, but not just. Usually there is a balance between men and women in the different gatherings and workshops held on the space, but that doesn’t mean that there is no same-sex interaction.
Outside of few gatherings that are facilitated by teachers, workshops generally have no fixed agenda and the aim is for the participants not to be consumers but rather facilitators, and with the flow of events and interactions define the direction of the gathering. These workshops are quite intense and range from deep conscious sensuality and shamanism to “hot tub affairs” where everyone just spends a whole weekend naked in the hot tub.
Trust, consent, and confidentiality are essential guidelines. Honest and clear communication, even if harsh, can air uneasiness out and foster trust even if through conflict. When entering the space participants must sign on a written agreement, handing them the responsibility over their own experience. It means every person must be clear about their own boundaries and desires, and respect others, without any enforcement of rules by facilitators.
By definition no one is living on the land. There are no private structures and everything is public for guests. “This is a laboratory and not a community. You get the community feeling but no one lives here. When people are stable within a community they start to put in their private interest in the center and you cannot constantly adapt to that in such a space.”
This unusual structure is an outcome of an important lesson: “Before we came up with the current structure the place was more anarchist in nature. However, I was the owner and the carrier of the financial burden. Therefore people’s anarchist behavior had a direct effect on me and could potentially harm me and the existence of this place.
“Also, in the hippie scene I felt people were too judgmental of sexual exploration, so few years ago we decided, as a group of core participants, to focus this lab on the eros and reject the other ideas that were brought up.”
Since the “community” wants to live without hierarchy but not in chaos, they invented a “mandala game,” where every temporary resident places himself on the mandala according to the responsibilities and chores he is taking upon himself. This unique gamification of decentralized governance allows some control and transparency on what each person is giving to the space and one can see how he is doing compare to others. People are empowered and motivated to take control without a ‘guiding hand,’ and by collecting ‘marbles”’ for every assignment they do, they can feel if they contribute enough and deserve time for play and rest.
With no permanent residents, this system seem to work quite well for everybody, but what about the one resident who actually lives here? How does he deal with a constantly changing community?
“I’m the solo owner of this property. I live here 9 months of the year in my camper-van and would love to be here even less, but the problem is to have a good team structure which allows my absence,” Achim admits. “We thought about creating a community next to the laboratory in the same spirit, either by building new houses or buying properties in the near village which is half empty. But these ideas are still on the paper.”
Achim knows how much communal living can be complicated. 30 years ago when finishing university, he started his journey in Germany. The goal was to take his camper-van for one year between eco-villages in Europe. That one year have been stretched to many years of exploration, mostly around Spain. “I have the soul of a traveler,” he says, and even when he tries to settle down, he always stays on his wheels, just in case.
At some point in his journey, he stayed in one eco-village for 3 years (still in his camper-van), but felt excluded as he refused to fully integrate and become a permanent resident. The community members concluded that he was not fully committed and asked him to leave.
Throughout my own life experience, I always told myself that every experience is a good experience, even if it ends in a bad taste. Achim agree and share with me another perspective regarding this principle:
“Eco-villages are usually quite welcoming but only if you have the right social and practical skills to live in an intentional community. You cannot keep your ego and live in a commune. You must work on your own demons and manage conflicts wisely to sustain yourself within such a group. There are so many ways you can build your life, alone or in a group, and you will always face difficulties. But for me, unlike many travelers I met, it is important not to leave a place in a bad tone. Despite conflicts and frictions, I stay in a place until things are settled and only then I am ready to leave, knowing I left behind nothing but love. If I have an issue with a place I will stay until I solve it, so I know I can always come back. If I go without solving everything, then the learning is not done.”
When I ask Achim if he misses Germany and will consider to come back, the answer is a strict no. 3 months a year he goes to Kenya where he works as a freelance programmer to save some money and dances with the African rhythm of life. He does appreciate, from a distant perspective, some cultural elements in his home country. “The sense of professionalism in German society is impressive, and the direct and honest communication allows you to have a bigger sense of trust in other people, much more than other cultures I visited. But here in Spain there are other virtues. The culture is oriented around celebrating life rather than work and efficiency. There is always time to play under the Spanish sun and that’s what life is all about, no?!”
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