Since the late 1990s, remittances, or money transfers made by international migrants to their countries of origin, have played an increasingly large role in both the local and national economies of the receiving countries. In some cases, like Nepal, remittances can make up a full third of a countries total GDP.
By World Bank's estimate, around $582 billion in remittances were transferred worldwide in 2015 alone. To give that number some perspective, if this were to constitute its own country, it would be ranked 21st, right behind Saudi Arabia, in terms of nominal GDP. In the United States, immigrant household budget about 10% of their income towards remittances, which, in turn, makes up about 50-80% of the household income of those receiving the money. While money sent is often used for average day-to-day expenses, remittances have never been only about sending money to supplement the income of relatives. Funds have always been used to help, in addition, with health and education costs, moving friends/family's businesses to another level, and/or the buying and building of homes.
For this installment of our recurring series Screen/Print, we are featuring an excerpt from the book Urbanisms of Remittances by Husos, which traces the role remittances have in the built environment and how global flows of money have shifted the formal architecture and the local economy of the receiving regions. Rendered in several graphic formats—from dynamic comic strips to paper models—the book explores how globalization means a house, a community, or even an entire city can be designed by systems that reach far beyond the local.
Urbanisms of remittances
(Re)productive houses in Dispersion
by Camilo García and Diego Barajas
This project is about urbanisms of remittances [1], city constructions financed by small amounts of money that transnational workers send periodically to their loved ones in their home countries, and focuses on the diaspora of Colombians from the coffee-growing region of Risaralda who have settled in parts of the world such as Spain and the USA [2].
The flow of global migration has meant that the amount of remittances sent annually worldwide is now almost $600,000 million. This figure is four and a half times larger than the financial aid for development granted by wealthy nations [3]. That is to say, the work of migrants has become the most important form of external economic support—despite being for the most part a fragile one, based on precarious jobs—upon which developing countries depend. To a large degree, these remittances are used by the families that receive them to cover basic living expenses and in reproductive or caring activities such as buying food, and paying for health care and education. But they are additionally used in the construction of houses and neighborhoods for transnational families, i.e. those made up of migrants working abroad and their families who continue living in their countries of origin. Many of the decisions concerning the building of these houses are made from a distance by way of telephone calls, text messages and emails, or during real estate fairs targeting immigrants and their loved ones, which are held in various cities where immigrants live in large numbers such as New York, Sydney or Madrid, and which offer residential developments for sale in their home countries. These dispersed urbanisms are currently burgeoning to such an extent that their influence goes beyond the families directly involved: in fact, they are increasingly having repercussions, both material and immaterial, on certain cities in both the Northern and the Southern hemispheres and their respective societies. They have an impact on the way that migrants generate and maintain affections, forms or belonging, and community even at a distance, as well as catalyzing material transformations and—depending on the place—financing the construction of family homes, entire neighborhoods and gated developments whose design and management in turn influence social construction.
The social realities within transnational communities face different and specific spatial responses, within the spheres of both urbanism and the architecture of the home
Apart from providing money for the maintenance of loved ones and the purchase of a house, remittances also imply the physical absence of migrants in their home countries. These absences, which are often the byproduct of myriad forms of emancipation for example, when people migrate in search of a different or better life also usually bring with them great challenges in the sphere of reproduction and deficiencies in the sphere of care. This is the case in Risaralda, in those homes that are left in charge of certain members of the household, usually one person, and often a woman. Care work usually requires not only remittance money, frequent telephone conversations and personal messages, but also the presence of the carers' bodies. The particularities of these and other social realities within transnational communities face different and specific spatial responses, within the spheres of both urbanism and the architecture of the home. On the one hand, in Risaralda there are self-developed architectural responses which, even though they present social, technical and organizational problems, are in many ways sensitive to the productive and reproductive situations of migrants and their communities, and respond to many of their needs and wishes. On the other hand, new responses are increasingly being created by developers, financed by banks, which offer a certain standard of comfort and technical guarantees, but which equally present important problems on the scale of both the household and the city.
Globalization is frequently linked to communication and transportation technologies and the numerous levels of interaction — both physical and virtual — that they enable. By contrast, the absences occasioned by transnational mobility, particularly the physical absence of affective and caring bodies, usually go unnoticed. In the present project, we have paid particular attention to some of the social and material consequences of these absences in the urban environment, and specifically in the architecture of the house as it is understood as a (re)productive artifact, that is to say, as "social factory" [4] where subjectivities and forms of interaction and care are created, at the same time as being a productive space.
They constitute advanced urban design laboratories that offer us a mirror in which we can visualize many of the challenges presented by a globalized world
We believe that, in a world in which societies are more and more interconnected and mediatized, the dispersed urbanisms generated by migration are not marginal realities; on the contrary, they constitute advanced urban design laboratories that offer us a mirror in which we can visualize many of the challenges presented by a globalized world. In this context, productive as well as reproductive work is spread across several countries and carried out from afar. While it is true that we are now experiencing ever multiplying forms of social interaction, we are also increasingly having to care for others and maintain affections from a distance: reproduction, as an ambit of the economy that is largely unrecognized yet fundamental in social construction, and in which architecture plays a central role, is undergoing major changes. Furthermore, certain urbanisms that are emerging in the global South offer us a number of interdisciplinary tools with which to deal with these challenges.
Remittance architectures constitute forms of city making that are mobilized by delocalized work, love from a distance, and trans-local micro-finance. These are forces that are propelled in turn by a globalization that generates more and more interconnection and, as such, the possibility of a greater circulation of imaginaries and hence the desire to migrate in search of a better life—but at the same time these are accompanied by postcolonial dynamics of inequality. For example, many jobs in the care and service sectors in economically prosperous nations are carried out by migrants, who therefore cannot take responsibility for the care of their own loved ones at home. This is part of a growing deficit in the reproductive sphere—understood as the "forms of care, interaction and provisioning that build social bonds and maintain them"[5]—largely due to the gradual dismantling of the welfare state and the impossibility of many households to take responsibility of their own care, i.e. looking after children, elders and the sick. This deficit results in part of this care work being delegated to an often precarious and vulnerable labour force, made up largely of women from the South.
Remittance architectures involve the architectures of homes built by migrants from the Southern hemisphere or paid for in the countries they have migrated to, as well as many other actors, both large and small, who operate in various different places. Communication technologies also play their part, as do transnational real estate fairs, and governments and public policies, regulations, local shops both here and there, salaries, relationships and imaginaries, which together form a swarm of trans-local situations that correspond to what we have termed a "dispersed urbanism". That is to say, it is an urbanism which — as we defined in our 2001 project and subsequent book Dispersion, in which we studied the urbanisms of migrants living in Holland — works in a multi-scale and multimedia way: it is an urbanism whose territory "is no longer physically contained in geographical continuous areas, but has been spread out and re-articulated by different mediations"[6]. Daily life in this dispersed spatiality is determined by the existence of situations that could crop up in separate places, but which are experienced simultaneously (thanks to telecommunications) despite the physical absence of one party, as may occur when a loved one lives and works in another country.
[...]
These are urbanisms which, although virtually unknown beyond their immediate location, are transforming societies of the northern hemisphere as much as that of the south
In Dispersion, while bearing in mind the different territories involved, we focused on analyzing spatial manifestations of migration in the host country, in this case Holland, and more specifically Rotterdam. Here, dispersed urbanisms developed mainly through micro-reappropriations of existing architectures, of artifacts with relatively low economic costs such as telecommunication equipment, or the construction of interior spaces and atmospheres that held different communal spaces and addressed transnational communities. In the present work, however, we revisit other kinds of dispersed urbanisms, shifting our focus to look in particular at the realities found in migrants' places of origin, using as our example the neighborhoods of the cities of Pereira and Dosquebradas in the Risaralda region, where the construction of new homes and neighborhoods — via many technological mediations — play a fundamental role. We have chosen to centre our research on members of the Colombian diaspora originating in the coffee-growing region of the country for two reasons. Firstly, this is a community in which remittance architectures quantitatively play a vital role (despite being a relatively small region in the middle of the tropical Andes, a high percentage of its inhabitants survive on remittances). Secondly, we can consider it, qualitatively, an exceptional urban laboratory in terms of our subject, as there is a high concentration of two distinct types of urbanism related to remittances: one is linked to self-developed houses, which was practically the only form of remittance architecture in the region until a little over a decade ago, and the other, more recently, is linked to homes and residential developments promoted by real estate groups and banking institutions. These two types of urbanism constitute forms of city that are materially different, and which in turn influence the transnational community of people from Risaralda in differing ways. This project is primarily concerned with analyzing their dynamics and demonstrating that these are urbanisms which, although virtually unknown beyond their immediate location, are transforming societies of the northern hemisphere as much as that of the south, and require urgent attention. Another concern of this project is to identify and analyze the challenges these urbanisms present to us in order to explore useful tools that may be used in dealing with these challenges from the perspective of design and other practical approaches.
These urbanisms are presented in this box file in the form of three typical components of architectural project documents: a descriptive report, model, and plans. In this proposal, these take the form of what we have called a 'foto-realovela' [9], a transversal form of communication with photo stories designed in collaboration with the Bollería Industrial collective with the intention of renewing and reformulating the classic 'fotonovela'—romantic or melodramatic stories told through photos which have been very popular in Risaralda and Latin America in general for several decades—to tell real stories of urbanism and town planning.
Due to the dispersed territoriality of these urbanisms, made up of different places that are often very distant from one another, communication technologies, advertising and the media have long been key agents in their construction, both in self-development and in real estate developments. We believe, therefore, that the media—through the 'foto-realovela' format—could also be tools that can help us to broaden and diversify the range of people engaging in this research project, and to contribute towards closing the gap between theory and practice, as useful tools of future design processes, like tiny Trojan horses in search of new models.
Each section can be read like a book, the models can be assembled and used as decorations, and the pages of the 'foto-realovela' can be cut out and attached to walls like posters.
During our research process, several drafts of this 'foto-realovela' were shared and discussed with members of the communities involved in various neighborhoods of Madrid and New York where the Colombian diaspora live and work, as well as cities in Risaralda such as Pereira and Dosquebradas. It is our intention that, once finished, this edition—as well as any others that might be made in the future, whether printed or digital—will serve as a means of communication and dialogue, not only with architects and town planners in general, but also with interested non-experts and other agents and communities involved in the remittance urbanisms studied. Each section can be read like a book, the models can be assembled and used as decorations, and the pages of the 'foto-realovela' can be cut out and attached to walls like posters. In order to facilitate distribution, apart from the copies on sale, 100 copies of the first edition have been set aside to distribute for free among agents and communities directly involved in the study, and a digital version is available to download for whoever may wish to print out and assemble their own copy of the 'foto-realovela'.
Today, an estimated 3-4% of the world's population — about 245 million people — live outside of their home country [10]. In some parts of the world, like Latin America, remittances sent by these people to their loved ones are a source of income comparable to the export of raw materials. In 2015 in Colombia, income from remittances exceeded that derived from the exportation of coffee and charcoal, thus becoming the second largest source of foreign currency after petrol [11]. In fact, Latin America is one of the regions with the highest growth of remittance income in the world [12]. It currently represents an essential source of revenue for the wellbeing of many communities, to such an extent that its enormous impact on some economies is promoting the creation of policies and governmental plans to channel it. Nevertheless, some public policies, such as those carried out in Colombia in the last decade, tend to prioritize the economic benefits to be gained by the construction industry and the finance sector, ignoring the multiplicity of domestic, productive and reproductive micro-realities of a society that requires remittance money.
The Risaralda region of Colombia is a hotspot of remittance collection, whose contribution to the regional economy is between 13 and 19% of its GDP [13]. The money that the region received from remittances in 2013 was greater than the budgets of the regional government of Risaralda and the town of Pereira—the regional capital—of that year put together. An estimated 18.3% of households in Risaralda and its surrounding area receives support from abroad [14]. As we shall see below, as well as its quantitative relevance, one extraordinary thing about Risaralda is the way in which the flows of love and money materially generate two different kinds of city, which in turn influence social construction in their own ways.
Many of the social and material characteristics that we shall see within these urbanisms are not exclusive to transnational families, and this is the root of an important part of what makes them so relevant: the realities that emerge through remittances can be seen as lenses that amplify the dynamics currently faced by migrant and non-migrant societies alike, which are more and more interconnected and mediatized and in which relationships are built more and more from a distance. We are facing progressively more financed and fragile forms of property, over which we have little control, and likewise different kinds of challenges regarding care.
These urbanisms are based on the construction of homes by migrants, almost never with the supervision of engineers or architects, but instead with the support of a few allies
Until a little over a decade ago, the most common urbanisms built with remittance money were self-developed. These urbanisms are based on the construction of homes by migrants, almost never with the supervision of engineers or architects, but instead with the support of a few allies who are involved directly in their completion, often known builders and craftsmen contracted from within the same neighborhood or from nearby. This model, like a great many self-developments in informal and semi-informal neighborhoods in Colombia, presents several problems. The informality of the building process often leads to technical flaws and various kinds of issues with neighbors. In these houses there are often bedrooms and other rooms without windows, which are dark and poorly ventilated; the houses could therefore be considered, in some respects, sub-standard. This occurs when regulations are ignored, for instance those that prohibit construction over setbacks on perimeters, or because patios—which are already very small—are often covered or built upon. Many buildings present structural problems as they do not fulfill anti-seismic regulations or other technical requirements. Breaching urban planning laws also frequently results in conflicts with neighbors, for instance when setbacks are built upon, or when buildings exceed height limits. The uncontrolled relationship between domestic and productive uses that are common in these homes also generates manifold problems. These can be anything from noise made by certain productive activities bothering neighbors, to laboral precarity when workers do not have optimal working conditions in houses that have not been materially and legally conditioned for hosting productive uses.
Yet at the same time, certain aspects of self-developed urbanisms built with remittance money are of great social and economic value. They are usually built in a progressive way, in stages and over a period of time, thus adapting to the living needs and economic possibilities of those sending the remittances and of their loved ones. Their spatial conformations are generally very diverse as they adapt to the specific needs of those who live in them in a variety of ways. These buildings frequently stand out for their unique, personal aesthetics, through which transnational households express the imaginaries and multi-localized wishes they have developed during their experiences in different parts of the world. Furthermore, when they are conditioned as productive homes, their typologies can embrace a number of lucrative activities. This is one reason why, although they are not immune to problems such as those mentioned above, they are particularly valuable when—as often occurs—one member of the family is responsible for the other members and for managing the household finances, which makes it difficult for them to work outside of the home to supplement their income. The fact that many of these constructions have two or more front doors enables the building to accommodate various different homes and/or small businesses in a single structure, and being directly connected to the street allows the residents to offer products or services to their neighbors. Multifunctional neighborhoods where people can meet, visit shops or workshops, and access other services give rise to different activities and make them adapt to many of the needs of the proprietors and inhabitants in terms of making a living through small businesses and renting out spaces adjacent to those dedicated to housework. These homes constitute the basic unit of an ecosystem related to economies that are trans-local and, to a large degree, small scale and proximal. These buildings form groups in which the street is used intensively as a social space. They are also often built in the neighborhoods where the trans-local workers are originally from, even when their remittances would, in many cases, allow them to move to more expensive areas; this is connected to the fact that a sense of belonging to a community of kin, neighbors and acquaintances tends to be very important. In many of these trans-local households, there is generally one person at home—usually a woman—who is in charge of caring for the family, with one or more family members of active working age living abroad, which means that neighborhoods and the idea of being rooted in a community take on a special importance. During the field work we undertook for this project, several interviewees commented that their teenaged or adult children and other dependents were being cared for by their aunts or grandmothers at home, while their own parents or children had emigrated. Neighbors and friends become part of an extended care network.
This is the case for Lilia, who built a home in Pereira with the remittance money that her brother sends from New York, where he is currently working without papers. Their house has three doors onto the street. The first and second open onto the ground floor, which can be sublet as businesses or as dwellings. The third door leads to the upper floor, where Lilia lives together with two members of her family who have mental disabilities, as well as her elderly mother. Lilia and her brother decided on this layout so that she could care for these three members of their family. The configuration of the central open space as a living/dining room, in the style of the patios in traditional 'paisa' [15] houses, which the surrounding rooms open onto via windows and doors, enables Lilia to attend to the tasks of caring for her family quickly and easily. Being rooted in the neighborhood where Lilia and her family have friends and next of kin—which is, moreover, a good place to open a business offering various services and trades close to hand—helps her to carry out these tasks.
They are challenges that require, as such, spatial and collective management responses that go beyond the configurations of single homes, ones that transcend the boundaries of the family environment.
Homes and urban environments such as Lilia's, despite presenting important design and management problems like those described above, while contributing to preserve patriarchal asymmetric structures and divisions of labour along gender lines,—and leaving a great portion of the care work in hands of one member of the household, in a context with no collective spaces for a shared provision of care—nevertheless yield valuable socio-technological solutions since they are organized in various ways that are sensitive to the diversity of domestic situations, to their reproductive or affective particularities, and to the care work being carried out in homes and communities. The search for responses to the specific needs of many transnational families within the reproductive sphere takes on a special importance in a context in which the mobility of people, finance, goods, and imaginaries produces dispersed affections and new forms of connection, but also physical absences, and therefore new challenges regarding care work. In general, we are facing new challenges within globalization and interconnection in the field of reproduction. These are challenges that evidently need to be tackled from the perspectives of different disciplines and different scales, showing the vital role that the design of domestic spaces plays, but also making it clear that many of the problematics facing care work are beyond the abilities of the households themselves to respond to them. They are challenges that require, as such, spatial and collective management responses that go beyond the configurations of single homes, ones that transcend the boundaries of the family environment. They also demonstrate the importance of dealing with the inclusion of productive activities inside the home and the generation of income in the domestic environment at the same time as the need to attend to the multiple technical and micro-political problems generated in the relationship between production and reproduction when these occur in proximity or even in the same space [16]. That is to say, they show the value of certain material devices, but they also invite us to explore new shared socio-organizational and even legal frameworks that will address these situations in terms of their values and particular problems.
Unlike the model explored above, since the early 1990s another type of remittance urbanism has been steadily gaining ground in Risaralda, one that is tied to the construction of finished dwellings, built in identical rows, and frequently located in closed residential developments in new areas of expansion in cities such as Pereira and Dosquebradas. These houses are usually offered and promoted in cities in the US, Europe or Australia where the Colombian diaspora live. The promoters are large property groups, some of them Pan-Andean, which advertise them through magazines and property fairs on various different continents aimed at this community. These are dwellings financed by banks through mortgages of up to 30 years which the migrants and/or their families take out. This model has advantages relating to the technical and legal specifications that these homes may offer, since they are built according to all the prevailing regulations.
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Husos is a platform for the development of both spatial interventions and research projects in architecture and urbanism. They first exhibited their work at the Oslo Architecture Triennale and it has since been compiled into a book through Caniche Publishers and can be purchased online here.
Screen/Print is an experiment in translation across media, featuring a close-up digital look at printed architectural writing. Divorcing content from the physical page, the series lends a new perspective to nuanced architectural thought.
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1 Comment
interesting read.
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