I spent my childhood in Austin, shaped by married student housing, full of children, families and community. I swam in Barton Springs and watched the Christmas lights of Zilker Park, now slowly being destroyed by massive development projects. I fed pigeons at the hippy hangouts of UT and sailed through Lake Travis in our bright red family boat. Looking back I feel keenly the realization that as human beings, our personalities, the quality of our lives and interactions are in great measure the products of the physical spaces we live in.
The bustle and smog of Tehran in 90's, the gradual transition of the city's aesthetic, on display on the bodies of women, from navy blue and gray to the colorization of the Khatami years. The terraced homes of Masouleh, the adobe landscapes of Yazd, the great bridge in Esfahan...and then the green streets of that fateful summer, turned to red in full view of twenty first century social media.
My travels took me further afield, to dozens more cities. Some emerging from war, like pockmarked Beirut, Sarajevo and Mostar, where the location of urban killings were marked with red concrete, where lovers made out on benches surrounded by the headstones of Ottoman nobles. Others, like Kabul and Baghlan surrounded by rings of steel, bases and concrete barriers, were still very much at war. The quiet of grey dawns interrupted by the distant thud of a suicide bomb. And still others, like Cairo and Dhaka slums, were scenes of far quieter but equally deadly conflicts over resources, political voice and human dignity.
Fez, Istanbul, Seville, Zagreb, Vienna, Damascus, Mecca, Medina, London, Los Angeles and beyond. Each city spoke with a unique voice and presented a unique story, of how human beings attempted to interact with their material conditions (and not infrequently, their metaphysical ones), how they sought to create meaning, community, and belonging. Alternatively, they also presented stories of how centers of power attempted to comodify, disempower and atomize residents through deliberate manipulations of space.
I have finally settled on my life's calling. It is to make my mark on this earth by helping shape the spaces that people call home. To plan the cities emerging out of the developing world, and to help guide the trajectories of struggling communities from blight to health and sustainability.
The bustle and smog of Tehran in 90's, the gradual transition of the city's aesthetic, on display on the bodies of women, from navy blue and gray to the colorization of the Khatami years. The terraced homes of Masouleh, the adobe landscapes of Yazd, the great bridge in Esfahan...and then the green streets of that fateful summer, turned to red in full view of twenty first century social media.
My travels took me further afield, to dozens more cities. Some emerging from war, like pockmarked Beirut, Sarajevo and Mostar, where the location of urban killings were marked with red concrete, where lovers made out on benches surrounded by the headstones of Ottoman nobles. Others, like Kabul and Baghlan surrounded by rings of steel, bases and concrete barriers, were still very much at war. The quiet of grey dawns interrupted by the distant thud of a suicide bomb. And still others, like Cairo and Dhaka slums, were scenes of far quieter but equally deadly conflicts over resources, political voice and human dignity.
Fez, Istanbul, Seville, Zagreb, Vienna, Damascus, Mecca, Medina, London, Los Angeles and beyond. Each city spoke with a unique voice and presented a unique story, of how human beings attempted to interact with their material conditions (and not infrequently, their metaphysical ones), how they sought to create meaning, community, and belonging. Alternatively, they also presented stories of how centers of power attempted to comodify, disempower and atomize residents through deliberate manipulations of space.
I have finally settled on my life's calling. It is to make my mark on this earth by helping shape the spaces that people call home. To plan the cities emerging out of the developing world, and to help guide the trajectories of struggling communities from blight to health and sustainability.
I am the Buddha and I approve this message.
ReplyDeleteMasha'Allah! Lovely to read your ideas and reflections, Hanif...didn't see an urban planning rising from within you, but I like it :)
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