On Overcoming the First-Measurement Barrier & Cultivating Neighborhood Water Advocacy at 4m Below Sea Level.
“Let’s hope the water unfreezes a bit by the time you get here!” Robin van Asperen, founder of Mijn Stadstuin, shoots us a photo of the iced-over irrigation canal, along with a winky emoji. Our Drinkable Rivers team is biking though alternating hail and rain towards this ecological impact hub for urban agriculture on the outskirts of Amsterdam, where we will be documenting their first complete Drinkable Rivers hub water quality measurement. We’ve had this date penciled in for two months already, and we aren’t turning back now. Robin and his team at Mijn Stadstuin welcome us to their plywood garden shed – which doubles as an office – with hot tea, big smiles, and a wide selection of mud boots: “Here, you’ll want these when we walk over to the irrigation ditch for the measurement.”
From Green to Blue
In founding Mijn Stadstuin, Robin merged his background in design thinking methodology with his passion for nature and community organizing. “I like to activate people to take up responsibility for some of the activities we currently outsource to the municipality or expert official bodies – tasks we have forgotten we know how to organize for ourselves.” The four hectares host a variety of alternative farming start-ups: “organic is the minimum… but our initiatives range from a Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) program, to a sustainable sauna, to individual small-plot gardeners who want to experiment with and exchange knowledge around regenerative agriculture practices.”
After ten years on this land, Robin’s interests have expanded from soil to water. “We pump the water directly from the canals on this land to irrigate our crops. The Waternet (Dutch Water Authority) tells us the water quality is within all their standards and norms, but what we see here doesn’t look very ecologically healthy – lots of algae, duckweed, and dominant reeds, which signal an imbalance in the aquatic environment and minimal flow. It’s not surprising, given our location”, he says, rising to scribble emphatically on the chalkboard. We crowd around a sketched map of Mijn Stadstuin’s placement in the Netherlands’ intricate network of waterways and pumps, tasked with raising the water meter by meter to meet the sea. “And here we are, 4.25 meters below sea level. The water would be way over our heads! We’re sitting at the bottom of an old marsh that was once excavated for peat, then flooded into a lake, and finally pumped dry for farming. So the hydrostatic tension is very high. It takes five augmented channels to get this water to sea level. We’re essentially at the very low, far end of all these waterways, and due to poor design, there’s very little streamflow. All the nitrates from surrounding cattle farms and gardens just build up here in our stagnant water.” Robin takes a deep breath and sighs. “This is all to say, we have a double interest in joining Drinkable Rivers: we see this place as a wonderful, representative testing ground for cultivating Dutch community waterway stewardship. But we also really want to make sure our water is healthy for our crops and for the people eating the food we grow here.” Looks like it’s time to get measuring!


The First-Measurement Challenge
“We’ve had the kit for about a year already. But despite our enthusiasm, we haven’t managed to do a full measurement yet – only the descriptive observational parts.” At Drinkable Rivers, we realize many of our hubs struggle with getting the first measurement done. There’s lots of instructions to read in the manual and many new sciencey-looking materials to be matched with each individual parameter. The good news is: hubs tell us they are always pleasantly surprised by how easy the manuals are to follow and that, once they have completed the measurement process once, it quickly becomes intuitive! Today, we’re here to support Mijn Stadstuin as they overcome that first-measurement hump.
The team – which includes Robin, garden guardian Friso, and participating members Nadia and Messi from Mijn Stadstuin, as well as Camille, Anthonette, and myself from Drinkable Rivers — start by sharing our first water memories. These range from beaches to rivers to bathtubs and encompass our human awe at water’s inherent duality of fluid peace and fearsome power. While the Dutch members all groan remembering their mandatory childhood swimming lessons, Messi remembers how he and his friends taught each other to swim in Ethiopia’s lakes, and Anthonette jokes that, despite studying hydrology at Delft University, she doesn’t like to swim at all. “At home in Liberia, I love to go to the beach and just be near the ocean. I really enjoy the calmness it brings. It removes all your worries – the way that water moves reminds you that life’s problems come and go away.”
After coloring the necessary black quarters onto a CD to make our Secchi disk and calibrating our sensors for pH, electrical conductivity, and temperature indoors, we head outside toward the river. Our mud boots crunch through the frosted mud and grasses. We hop over a few ditches to reach the spot where the canal feeds the irrigation pump – our point of interest for Mijn Stadstuin’s water quality. It’s still very cold out, but we’re in luck: the water has unfrozen enough for us to take our measurement. First things first: we start the phosphate colorimetric measurement, which entails letting the river water react with a reagent for 10 minutes before taking a reading. Next, we squeeze some water droplets onto the E. coli-detecting petrifilm, which we tuck away to culture for 72 hours into tell-tale blue dyed colonies. Then, before our toes freeze, we move through the rest of the colorimetric analyses for nitrates, pH, hardness, alkalinity, chlorides, and ammonia, dip the Secchi disk into the water, and get real-time readings on pH, electrical conductivity, and temperature by holding two sensor sticks underwater. The thermometer shows 4°C. We decide to record the rest of the measurement’s descriptive observational parameters inside.
Back in the shed, Robin reflects: “I think my advice for other new hubs is, more than anything, just start. Get three people together and take some samples. This makes the testing location feel real and shows you this might not be as challenging as you think. We were lucky to have the Drinkable Rivers team here with us today to answer any questions, but I could also imagine it working really well for current hubs to invite new hubs to watch them do a measurement. And build momentum in that way.”

The New Waterschap
For Robin, the Drinkable Rivers citizen science programme is an extension of the way he already thinks about involving the local community with the land. “I’m excited to build out the program with the Amsterdam community and engage people with the water – just like with the soil. We know that increased familiarity leads to care and appreciation, and that in turn will lead to other supportive activities and actions on the land.” Mijn Stadstuin’s neighbors include other farming organizations and everyday residents, who Robin hopes to eventually draw into a wider community environmental advocacy network through the Drinkable Rivers program. “We are a neighborhood of water resource users”, he declares, gesticulating around him at the mixed green and urban landscapes of Amsterdam’s Geuzenveld and Slotermeer districts. “The agricultural practices of other farmers and gardeners impact our crops here, and the runoff from this whole area mostly flows into the Sloterplas”, a nearby lake popular for Amsterdammers to cool off in the hot summer months, which has recently been designated as “swim at your own risk” due to high fertilizer concentrations triggering toxic algal blooms. “We’re all connected by the water.”
Dutch villagers introduced the idea of waterschappen – or water board associations – in the 11th century, long before the formation of formal regional or national governments. Indeed, as these waterschappen established cooperation between all inhabitants, nobles and peasants alike, to keep the water out of the low-lying farmland, they likely served as the model for the famed consensus-style democracy still practiced in Dutch government today. “Today, we think of the waterschappen as outdated and not worthy of our attention”, says Robin, smirking. “We just expect that the government has everything under control, which speaks to our arrogance when it comes to water management in the Netherlands. Only recently, we are starting to wake up: our land here is sinking due to erosion, and the amount of energy needed to keep pumping the water out to sea is growing ever greater. The ocean is literally coming in under the land, salinating the soil. With this Drinkable Rivers program, I want to bring back the idea that we are all part of our waterschappen, our water communities. We are all responsible for this together.”
It seems that, for Robin, Mijn Stadstuin is a place to innovate and experiment not only with methods of regenerative farming, but with regenerative ways of governing and living together. Eyes glinting, he recalls a favorite saying: “Our dark ages are always when we cling on to wealth and money that we acquired out of our more innovative times. Once we are forced into moving again, then we are very practical people, and we can make things happen. That’s when I like this country.”