late night sessions

I know I promised to post more stories. Well lately their simply wasn't enough time to experience something. Starting from the first day when I came back from the Netherlands uncle Erick is demanding the impossible. The beloved villa should be finished now!! No way we will ever make it within the boudaries he is setting. Still we are doing the best we can.

With these circumstances I am really ruining my social life. No msn, no email. I very much regret it. Ignorent as I am I'm still hoping for easier times for the last weeks. I will make up with everybody as soon as I get back.

"I am a slaaaaave, for autocad"
(as innocent britney once told us)

Umbrellas

Already in one of the first weeks here (see also "mighty Russian rivers") I discovered that it is an absolute must-have of the -basic moscow survival kit-, and now as the weather has changed within a day or two from 20-25 degrees sunny days to 24 hour lasting 6 degrees showers the foldable option proves it value untill the last ruble (app. 2,78 Euro ct).

Today I witnessed, experienced and even participated in two events that easily could be executed in the famous Bolshoi theatre or in a MTV must-see video directed by Guy Ritchie.

The first one occured when I arrived at the metrostation for departure to work. As usual all kinds of people were popping out the exit (not rarely with a grumpy face and even more grumpy regarding the present weather conditions), but today it was special because of the double popping; a human one and a foldable one. Literally everbody joined. I don't know exactly why, but it looked super sympathatic and at the same time choreographied (sorry for my butchers english) to the tiniest detail.

The second event looked more dramatic and occured when I was entering another station for the way back home. A surprisingly long queue of them already started on the street and was, with a funeral like pace, moving downwards into the dark underground. No voices, no laughter. Only the constant dripping of water on plastic. With a complete face covering, yet suitable smile I joined the anonymous horde. Not completely anonymous, since sunny ones are quite rare (although I once did see a nice one that was also decorated from the inside) and mine is displaying innocent blue and bright yellow stars.
Not as solid as the Russian the European doesn't take a strong position, inside can be outside, outside can be inside, just what suits the direction of the strongest force. The Russians simply have to push one button and things are rolling while Europe requires more action before things get started.

Hmmm... I seem to be drifting away.


umbrellas are no match for this one

lost sun will be home (temporary)

one new visa, eleven days in the netherlands
starting from the 15th...

hup holland hup

Hardly seeing any live football games in The Netherlands I have already attended my 3rd one here in Moscow. This time boss Willem joint me to Russia vs. Holland. Orange ice-skating suits, cardboard masks of members of the royal family, painted cheeks and singing André Hazes as loud as possible we scared many Russian hooligans.
Not quite...

Although I was brave enough to cheer (in silence but still) when Robin scored his wonderfull goal.

(Many thanks again to James the English reporter)

DATSJA!!

Important side-activity for people in Russia and especially Moscow is the datsja (exact spelling unknown), a summer holiday house some hours outside Moscow where the air is still clean and the people relaxed.

So there I was in the absolute middle of nowhere sitting with four Russian guys (1 collegue + 3 of his friends) that hardly spoke any English because also for them it was weekend and time to relax. Inside and outside the datsja time has stand still, let's say like a museum but then the real deal. Or even better, I took the timemachine that rides on a rail. Anyway, I was blessed to experience some true Russian adventures:

Bbq-ing + drunk police detective + vodka in the middle of the night,
fishing in the wolga + beer during daytime,
traditional naked swimming in the wolga + vodka in the night,
breakfast + vodka in the afternoon,
learning a backflip from a key in the wolga + beer in the same afternoon,
peeing in a train without toilet + beer on the way back,
sleeping on top of a builiding + beer in the night.

Igor and I were a bit late at work on monday.


the first one doesn't mean necessarily the biggest one



old russian zen-temple along the wolga



"backstreet back allright!"

hello again

Not knowing if people are still reading my blog, ever did or whatever, I decided to pick up the good work again, although without pictures since plugging in a USB on the EEA-network seems impossible when not a administrator.

Please don't hesitate to stimulate my writings and post a response every once in a while. Then I am sure that I am not doing it for nothing...spasieba

one weekend, two matches

My one and only friend outside the office, bus-buddy from the airport James, got as a sports journalist free tickets for Dynamo and Spartak. I was the lucky one to join him on this noble mission.
Singing along with the hooligans, cheering for the wrong team, seeing Dick Advocaat and EC 2008 starplayer Arshavin at work and being amazed by the poor level. It all happened.

What a nice weekend!

appearance update

Still look the same
To compensate with the lack of sports I eat less.
To compensate with the bad air I use facial creme.

Life can be so simple...

minor detail: they only sold bavaria malt

on the catwalk

Although my perfect pronounciation of nyet and da and even the use of some rough Russian slang that I picked up at a party my appearance is far from Russian. I often get the look of the locals, especially on the endless long escalators that lead down to metrostations deep under the ground. Get on it, stand still for a minute or three and stare at people that are going in the other direction.
So they look at me for approximately two seconds, do something in between pulling up their nose and frowning and seem to accept.

Guess that indicates how western Moscow already is. Respect.

mighty russian rivers

The last weekend in Russia for my housemate Lili, so of course we had to go out to one of the numerous clubs in Moscow. First we took a cab to head of the office Willem. I didn't dare to get out of the car, nor did Lili. Due to the heavy rain of the last hours the street literally turned into a mighty 20cm deep river. We drove a bit further to get on the shore/walkway, but nyet, it was an island and the cab was gone already. Climbing on big stones, leaping from hooks in the wall and jumping from flower barge to flower barge we managed as true Indiana Jones' to get to the house with dry feet.

In the end the club was still ten minutes away by foot, so still completely soaked we arrived. Looking as miserable as possible I had one of the best nights so far.

cold shower

Moscow feels like a true metropool, ready to compete with most western metropools, but there are some particularities with it that can only be found in Russia. After arriving from Amsterdam I was ready for my shower to start the Moscow adventure bright and shiny. Not knowing any better I stepped into the bathtub and turned on the water. Icecold!! I wanted to be fresh, but this was a bit overdone.

Once every year the hot water is cut off all over Moscow for a few weeks for maintainance, mainly in the summer months and area per area. One collegue told me that her warm water was cut off in early May when temperatures were still around 0 degrees.

I wasn't complaining, I swear.
Fortunately the warm shower is back again now.

from home to worksky

dear guests

For everybody who is planning to pay me a visit or after this message will also be coming.
Maybe you already knew that I share my luxureus apartment with one of my collegues, but what is new is that she will be leaving soon, leaving behind a genereous room for guests. So no worries anymore if everybody fits, it will provide space for everybody.

have to go to a party now, more news monday!!

my point of view

My point of view 01

My point of view 02

the never-ending first day at work

One of Erick's friends is an important developer. A developer that wants a new house. And Erick wants to be involved in his developments. So he designs a villa for a special price.

It is 4 in the night and we are still working very hard to finish the booklet in time. Almost a hundred pages of glossy renderings. Lots of them are upgraded in photoshop by my humble self. The villa is huge and extremely luxureus. Too huge and too luxureus. I don't want to know...

I won't post the pictures, still got my integrity.

arrived

Sitting here behind my personal computer in the office with a nice view on the Kremlin, I am starting to believe I made the right choice. The collegues I met so far are very nice, the apartment in which I am staying is perfect and to recognize places I have been last summer finishes the experience.

Deadlines are already coming up so probably they will put me to some oldfashioned hard labour soon. For now I am still waiting for my supervising architect to arrive and smiling while looking out of the window...

(click on comments to reply otherwise just send me an email)

THE END. or the beginning?

I am writing this one week after returning from India. Rush rush rush, it continues even here. No time to reflect or even rest. We are back alright. I need time to think things over, isn't that also part of studying? I want to do something with this experience. I don't want to get stuck in our Western system with all its invisible presets. I want to make a difference. I want to do good. If only I knew how.

This is not the end, nor the beginning.

I am on the way...

bright moment in a cramped space

One evening, two lectures. Both about Dharavi, both about the redevelopment plan. As interesting as they are, my mind still floats away in the overcrowded and hot inner courtyard of our guesthouse.“What do people actually need to be happy?” The people here all appear to be so happy although they live under such barbarian circumstances. I remember the words of David Harvey when he once gave a lecture at our faculty about our system of capitalism and how the world would look like if this system keeps running for 300 years. The system in India or at least in Dharavi seems different. Harvey said we need to change our system, it will change itself anyway. Dharavi vs. capitalism? I don’t know. I realise that I don’t have enough brain capacity to think properly about such heavy subjects. Maybe one day. When I grow up.

the suit

The daily routine; going to one of the local small hotels to fill the stomach with some paneer masala or maybe the mutton Afghani, don’t remember, doesn’t matter. In the middle of the dinner our non-English speaking waiter gave me without saying a word a business card of a local tailor. I was amazed. During the dinner conversation we talked about many things, in all my enthusiasm I probably explained my table companions again about my plan for buying a customised suit. Did the waiter hear me say the word suit? Anyhow it illustrates again the mentality of the people here. Friendly enough to give a foreigner good advise and not too shy to provide work for an acquaintance.

daily routine

at jj's

First an interesting lecture about Dharavi and its position in Mumbai, then our own space in the faculty to work on our own provisional diagrams of the periphery exercise. In the room some work of the JJ students is hanging on the walls. Before we went to India I expected that our level of education would be superior of these students. In reality it isn’t. It is actually quite equal to the work produced in Delft. Maybe not a lot of bright and shiny renders, with which I always have a love-hate relationship, as back home, but sympathetic and delicate hand drawings. I will never say that India is undeveloped, but if so, it certainly has its benefits.

delft or mumbai?

sheeps

Walking in the herd through Dharavi is not something I like. Even more than normally the people are staring. I feel like a passive sheep. Arriving at the shrine where the festivities are going on I feel even more out of place. We are intruders of a sacred event, waving with our cameras, all trying to stand in front of the line to get the best shot. I want to go, there is no need for me here to interfere, especially not in a group of 25 people.

let's recycle

Back home in the Netherlands we try to recycle, but here in 13th compound they are taking recycling to the next level. Everything can be recycled, card boxes, plastics, empty barrels, oil cans, plastic forks, knives ande spoons, textile, everything. We enter a hot dusty metal recycling place. It is dark and the workers don’t look up when we enter. They work like madmen under heavy circumstances. No safety rules are applied here, even while their machinery seems eager to tear of some fingers. “They are very happy to work here” our guide explains. If they are happy does that make me happy for them to? I wonder, there is no right or wrong. I am too different, too spoiled.

recycle heaven

inside

Inside the slum. Literally inside, the streets are so narrow that sunlight doesn’t enter. Dark but also very colourful. Laundry is hanging to dry on electricity cables. Water drops into the small gutter that runs inside the alley. Or is the alley in fact. A blasting television, children walking along asking us to make photographs of them, the smell of masala coming out of one of the rooms. A tiny approximately 5 year old boy is poking in the gutter, playing with the indefinable substance. Although used to the smell I can almost taste the diseases in my mouth. A few steps further I see pooh and pee in and next to the gutter. The aorta running through these little allies is literally an open sewer. Maybe the people don’t know about hygiene, maybe they do. Priority number one is to survive, hygiene has to wait. It doesn’t seem to exist.

one of the numerous allies

the open sewer

5 times a day

Constantly checking our front and back for incoming trains. On the left the slum of Dharavi; primitive shacks, amazed faces and waving hands. Three railway tracks, two trains from the back, the middle one will remain clear, we are safe. I start filming the two trains passing by, left and right. Cool movie!
Something happened. A woman starts running whilst screaming to a spot a 100 metres in front of me. An older man got hit by the train. Not knowing what to do with ourselves we stand still for a minute. “We need to get going” says Amey, our Indian student. We walked by the group of mourning squatters that are carrying the body away. The girls are shocked. After 10 minutes the train starts riding again. The Indian guys hanging out of it are still whistling, shouting and flirting with the girls.
It happens 5 times a day in Mumbai.

scene of the accident

flipflop

The start of our exploration of the periphery. Arguing about how to reach the railway track I stop for a few seconds and focus on sounds. Incredible; trains thundering a few meters behind us, people bargaining and passing by, too much traffic trying to move through a too narrow street; accelerating, roaring and honking. Suddenly I can only focus on one thing; walking feet on the unpaved path upon we are standing. Heavily loaded flip-flops, weeping bare feet, the cheerful dancing of little children, the steady walk of the walking shoes, a pair of feet dragging squeaky wagon.
Ordinary feet just like mine, (un)fortunately born on the other side of the world.

lonely

Arrived

Busy, more busy, busiest...
Why is the atmosphere so good in Dharavi?
Why are the people so pleasant?

I am going to find this out.

Biomapping

Making a map of the city in an non-conventional way; biomapping. A map made out of emotions. One of our crashdummies for this project was Arie Willem (a.k.a. Iron William, not without a reason). Released of his sight we took him for a walk starting from the market square in Delft all the way to the Ikea, going through all kinds of environments.

Experience after experience. Good as well as bad, highly intensive or on the background, scary or interesting; he made his way to the finish.

The collected data during this emotional trip was with use of several computerprograms translated into maps that indicate how Arie Willem experienced the city.
(i'll try to update later)

"I hear a little piggy!!"

box head

What's the matter?
Never seen a guy with a box on his head before?

Life is easy when everything is clear and familiar. You know which way you are going. And the others? Well, as long as their not in your way you don't care. Stay within your own safe capsule, created by your ipod or just a brazen face;

"I am cool. Walking here at the uni, checking out the scene... I am late, but I am not going to rush. To be in a rush is not cool...even better; being late is cool. I will make an appearance... Cool!

Wow!! What is that dude doing with that box on his head? He is just standing there! Stay cool, don't be distracted. Ignore and keep distance. Don't know, don't care. I am busy. I am cool"

Starring: the box head

frozen toes & warm harts

The assignment of this brilliant 2-day workshop:
-the construction of our own gypsy camp in the backyard of the faculty-

Day 1: hours of discussion of how to organize an idyllic settlement for 37 people and the gathering of leftovers and garbage in our direct environment. Sounds simple, but it turned that organisation and quietness are incredibly difficult to achieve.

Day 2: arguments with security gards, constructing the optimal dwelling, the creation of the communal spaces and warm around the campfire.

The end? No, of course not.

Putting oneself in the position of somebody else does not stop when it is getting dark and freezing. Construction of one own's dwelling as exercise is easy when you can always step out and go to your warm home, packed with food and pillows. Construction for survival, that is what those people do. Preparing cheap nutricious food in a primitive way. Being alert all the time. And so we did.

Our dwelling is of course the ugliest one, but more important, also the warmest. Elevated and insulated foundation, protection from the wind and rain by means of plates and a sail, the use of surroundings like the trees and hill and easy to construct.
Campfires are good to warm up human bodies, but also for potatoes, beans and sausages. Full stomachs, the fire slowly going out, time to sleep.

How deed we survive?

- 1 ugly dwelling
- 3 brave students
- 3 complete winter wardrobes
- 2 blankets

Two hours of sleep approximately, frozen toes, stiff limbs, sniffing noses, a lot of jokes, but also with a warm hart. Surviving in these circumstances (1,6 degrees and a soft breeze) with two persons less than an inch beside you is very special. Maybe this remarkeble warm feeling in my hart would not occur when the situation was real, I don't know. At least we experienced a very small part of what millions of people in the world are facing everyday.

That is what this workshop is about; try to imagine how those people are suffering. And so we did.

I am very glad we stayed overnight.
Geraldine and Stephan thanks for the company! (and the bodyheat)

pure architectural beauty

how many sausages do you see?

beans are not only nutricious

body scan

eyes closed and drifting

forget the rest and focus

i know my body well
i think i do
i hope i do

many things happened to it
many things will happen

qualities and weaknesses
i know some of them
some can be changed
some not

distraction...
what is that?
it is the left knee
always the left knee

slum slum, here i come

Incredible. I will be there in a couple of weeks, trying to grasp some understanding of what's going on outside my safe western world.

I have to prepare,
get organised,
gather information,
start reading,
say goodbye,
hurry...

Yes but no,
sit down and realize.
I am going.
I am happy.