Geo Urbanism

SINOPSIS

The siege of Leningrad, which the Germans held for 782 days, from September 1941 to January 1944, was one of the most heroic episodes of the WWII and one of the most terribles sieges in history. The Germans bombed the city consecutively in days, forcing the inhabitants to starve and resort to cannibalism to survive. In January 1942 they left the city without electricity or water. Hitler had ordered that no surrender proposal should be accepted. His purpose was to exterminate all the inhabitants, as he did not want any survivors to feed. The collective will of its inhabitants not to be crushed by the Germans, at the cost of almost a million dead, was what prevented them from being occupied. Michael Jones has reconstructed this extraordinary story based mainly on the testimony of the survivors.

REVIEW

Hello citizens! This time I would like to review a book that surprised me a lot in different ways. There are many books and documentaries about WWII regarding what happened in cities in Poland, France, Germany, Japan, etc., but little in Russia. Few events in history expose the fragility and resilience of cities like the 872-days siege of Leningrad during WWII.

Michael Jones' The Siege of Leningrad is a meticulously reserched yet deeply human account of one of the most brutal episodes in modern warfare. Through diaries, survivor testimonies, and historical records, the author reconstructs the suffering of a city that endured starvation, bombardment, and unimaginable deprivation.

This book is more than a historical record, it is a meditation on the limits of human endurance and the precariousness of urban life under siege.

The fragility and resilience of cities

Cities are often seen as bastions of civilization-hubs of innovation, culture, and economic power. Yet, the siege of Leningrad laid bare their vulnerability. When supply lines were severed, the electricity failed and the bureaucratic machinery collapsed, the city's thin veneer of modernity crumbled like a house of cards. The siege proved that urban life is not a given, it is a delicate balance that depends on functioning infrastructure, stable governance and, most importantly, the cooperation of its citizens.

"Neither transportation nor communication systems work, and conveniences such as light, water, electricity or gas have become legends. Staying in the streets for a few hours one comes across dozens of corpses, lying in the snow, and carts loaded with the dead. Food prices on the black market have reached exorbitant levels, and people feed on the most chilling filth, from jelly made from carpenter's glue to the innermost portions of corpses. The squalid inhabitants of the city, driven by sheer desperation, are turning into savages."

Before the war, Leningrad was a thriving metropolis, a symbol of Soviet progress. But under the siege, public services disappeared, law enforcement eroded and survival became a personal struggle. The collapse was not instantaneous but a slow unraveling: first came food shortages, then transport breakdown, and finally the failure of heating systems during one of Russia's coldest winters.

The city fragility lay not only its material needs, but in its "social pact". When famine came, some resorted to theft, hoarding or even violence, while others organized communal kitchens, shared scarce rations and maintained makeshift hospitals. The difference between social collapse and collective resistance was a human choice.

"Death has become an everyday ocurrence and people have grown used to it. Everyone is apathetic, aware that this is the fate awaiting us all. If not today, then tomorrow. When you step outside in the morning, you find lying in the street. They remain there for a long time - no one comes to take them away"

Resilience is often discussed in contemporary urban planning as a city's ability to "bounce back" after disaster. But Leningrad's story complicates this idea. The city did not simply recover, it adapted in real time to unthinkable conditions. People burned books, and turned public spaces into mass graves. This was not resilience in the sense of restoration, but resilience as radical improvisation.

Thanks to this book, I was able to realize that the resilience of a city also depends on its institutions. Leningrad's rulers, through flawed and often ruthless, managed to maintain some appearance of order. But real resilience came from below: from the teachers who taught in freezing classrooms, from the musicians who performed symphonies in the midst of air raids; and from the ordinary people who documented their suffering in diaries.

This duality, control from above and resilience from below made me question modern urban resilience strategies. Can a city survive a catastrophe without strong institutions and an engaged citizenry?

"The theatre became an island of joy in a sea of suffering... And yet, it grew harder and harder to go on. Outside, the temperature was forty-eight degrees below zero. Inside, there was no heating. An operetta began. The performers wore light costumes — their faces pale and gaunt, but smiling. The dancers were so thin they looked as though they might snap in two. Some collapsed between scenes. When the curtain fell, the audience rose from their seats. Too weak to applaud, they showed their gratitude by standing in silence — briefly, for several minutes"

The Leningrad ordeal may seem like a distant historical tragedy, but its lessons resonate today. Modern cities depend on supply chains, centralized utilities and digital networks, systems that can be disrupted by war, weather or cyberattacks. The COVID-19 pandemic hinted at this fragility as supermarkets shelves emptied and hospitals were overwhelmed. Meanwhile, crises like Hurricane Katrina or the Syrian siege of Aleppo have shown how quickly urban order can collapse when systems fail. Are smart cities enough to deal with such situations?

However, Leningrad also offers a counter-narrative: resilience is possible, even in the worst circumstances. It requires infrastructure (alternative food sources, decentralized energy), strong social networks (community organizations, mutual aid) and, perhaps most importantly, a shared civic identity that forces people to resist together rather than fracture.

War as a catalyst for urban transformation

Examing the long-term impact of war on urban spaces reveals not only the immediate horrors of conflict but also the unexpected ways cities adapt, rebuild, and even redefine themselves in its aftermath.

The most visible legacy of war is physical destruction. In Leningrad, incessant aerial and artillery bombardment reduced entire neighborhoods to rubble. Basic infrastructure such as water pipes, power grids, streetcar lines were destroyed, making survival a daily struggle. But beyond the material damage, war corrodes the social fabric of a city. Institutions such as hospitals, schools, etc., meant to protect citizens collapsed under the pressure, leaving individuals to survive on their own.

How much suffering can a city endure before it ceases to function as a society? Leningrad came close to that threshold. Yet, even in the depths of despair, the city did not fully collapse.

"Famine has settled in Leningrad. Many people are becoming indifferent to the suffering of others, and some have even become predators...A wonderful spirit of cooperation began to blossom. The main thing was not to try to survive, but to keep one's own humanity intact. Those who isolated themselves from others would eventually collapse. Something else was coming to life: a deep desire to help each other in adversity"

Paradoxically, war can also force cities to evolve in ways that peacetime complacency might never allow. The siege of Leningrad spurred innovations in survival—makeshift hospitals, communal kitchens, and improvised fuel sources—that kept the city alive. After the war, the reconstruction effort was not merely about restoring what was lost but reimagining the city’s future.

History forces us to acknowledge that some cities have emerged from conflict with unexpected gains. London’s postwar rebuilding led to revolutionary social housing projects. Rotterdam’s destruction birthed daring modernist experiments. Even Hiroshima, the ultimate symbol of annihilation, became a global beacon for peace and innovation

Post-war Leningrad (later St. Petersburg) saw the rebuilding of key landmarks, but also the redesign of public spaces to honor collective memory. Monuments to the siege’s victims, such as the Piskaryovskoye Memorial Cemetery, became sacred sites of remembrance, embedding the trauma into the city’s identity.

"Thousand died each day, and yet somehow Leningrado stayed alive... but those who sent us so much death made a fatal miscalculation. They underestimated our fierce hunger to live"

If there’s one takeaway for urbanists today, it’s this: A city’s survival depends less on its walls than on its people’s will to live together. So as we design “smart cities” and “sustainable hubs,” we’d do well to remember Leningrad’s darkest winter—when the only thing keeping the lights on wasn’t a power grid, but the stubborn refusal of ordinary humans to let their city die.

That’s resilience. Not in steel and concrete, but in solidarity. And in an age of climate crises and political fractures, we’ll need more of it than ever.

July 29, 2025 No comments

Hello citizens! Today I would like to share a reflexion about one of the urban places that have surprised me the most in South Korea: The libraries. Unlike other countries, where libraries are used as study or information search centers, in Seoul there are places for social gathering and generetion of ideas. You can find libraries in the middle of the caos of a shopping mall, in cafes, or on top of buildings or subways!

In South Korea, libraries defy all traditional expectations, sparing no expense when investigating in cultural spaces like museums, art galleries, music centers - many of which occupy significantly larger urban footprints compared to other nations. According to 2020 statistics, there are roughly 20,580 libraries across the country, translating to one public library for every 44,223 people.

From study halls to innovation and community hubs

To revitalize the economy through creativity and innovation, South Korea has repurposed these spaces as tools for urban rebranding and renewal. One standout example is the library at the heart of Gangnam's Stafield Coex Mall. Designed as the mall's centerpiece, every path leads to this communal area where floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, cozy chairs, and worktables invite visitors to relax, read, or enjoy live performances by guest artists. It's remarkable that a library could anchor such a commercial space while drawing global tourists. The project's success even spurred a second mall in Suwon, featuring an even grander, visually stunning library.

South Korea has fully embraced libraries - and their architecture - as tools to position itself favorably in the global market and atract investment. With cramped apartments pushing people to spend more time outside their homes, cafes doubling as coworking spaces have surged in popularity. Libraries, in turn, have evolved to blend seamlessly with these communal work hubs. Often boasting unique architecture, inviting interiors, and panoramic views, they've become hotspots for young professionals and influencers eager to fuel their social media feeds.

The role of libraries in South Korea's Smart Cities

What struck me most is how every dong (neighborhood or district) has its own library, typically linked to the local government office. These libraries strengthen community bonds while offering personal and economic growth opportunities through city-sponsored programs. Language courses, coding workshops, forestry seminars, photography classes, and more foster idea-sharing and social cohesion. Many now integrate coworking zones, tech labs, and makerspaces. For instance, Yongsan Library provides 3D printers and coding courses, equipping citizens with critical digital skills.

Additionally, the rise of foreign residents and intercultural marriages has led libraries to promote cross-cultural exchange—offering multilingual books, Korean language support, and programs celebrating both local and global traditions. This strengthens social ties in an increasingly globalized society.

In recent years, Seoul’s government has also championed outdoor reading spaces in tourist hotspots, such as along the Cheonggyecheon Stream and near City Hall. Mobile library services at subway stations even let commuters return borrowed books on the go. These initiatives don’t just promote reading—they connect citizens to their environment, a cornerstone of well-being-focused smart cities.

In Seoul, libraries transcend functionality, serving as aesthetic landmarks and catalysts for neighborhood revitalization. They bolster the city’s image, deepen citizen engagement, and drive economic growth. In a tech-saturated metropolis where screens dominate daily life, libraries remain vital spaces for unplugging and building community.

Despite South Korea’s leadership in broadband and digital services, libraries also bridge the digital divide. They offer tech literacy courses and device rentals, ensuring seniors and low-income groups aren’t left behind in the digital transition.

Challenges: Balancing tech and social equity

Yet challenges persist. Plummeting birth rates and an aging population push libraries—especially academic ones—to adapt spaces and services for older adults, who are becoming the demographic majority. Meanwhile, mid-sized cities outside Seoul often lack modern libraries. To democratize access, South Korea is rolling out mobile libraries and public-private partnerships.

Decentralizing services, appealing to digital-native youth, and balancing spectacle with substance remain hurdles. But South Korea has already written the first chapter of a replicable model: libraries as civic thermometers. Where they thrive, they signal urban health; where they decline, they expose social fractures.

South Korea hasn’t just redefined libraries—it’s woven them into the soul of its smart cities. These spaces are more than temples of knowledge: they’re living labs where technology meets humanity, communities grow stronger, and sustainability takes root. In a world obsessed with the digital, South Korea’s libraries stand as antidotes to isolation, proving that a smart city isn’t defined by its infrastructure, but by its power to connect people, ideas, and opportunities.

May 26, 2025 No comments

Hello citizens! 🌃South Korea is often celebrated as the “Miracle on the Han River” for its rapid economic growth and transformation after the Korean War. However, as Seoul evolved into a glittering metropolis, its poorer communities—many of whom lived along the riverbanks—were pushed to the city’s outskirts. Over time, informal settlements disappeared, except for one: Guryong Village. Today, we are diving into the current conditions of this last Shanty Town in Seoul. Nestled in the shadow of one of the city's wealthiest neighborhoods, Gangnam, we will try to comprehend its history, social context, and its redevelopment plan.

A history of displacement and resilience

Guryong Village is the last illegal informal settlement, or panjachon, remaining in Seoul. It was founded in 1988 on the hillside of Mt.Guryong, which is located in Gaepo-dong of Gangnam District, the wealthiest area of Seoul Metropolitan Region and occupies approximately 260.000 square meters, with about 1100 households.

The development of informal settlements in Seoul began after Japanese colonialism in 1945, when unexpected waves of migrants from Japan, Manchuria, and other parts of Korea flooded into Seoul. With nowhere to go, they built makeshift homes on open land, creating panjachon (informal settlements). These slums, often made of low-quality materials, popped up along the Han River and other areas.

Guryong's Village entrance from the avenue

But as Seoul modernized, the government prioritized housing development, leading to the mass demolition of panjachon in the mid-1960s. High-rise apartment complexes replaced slums, and low-income families were pushed to the city’s edges exacerbating class segregation. At that time, the government controlled the creation of new slums by secured affordable housing by re-renting. However, the 1988 Seoul Olympics accelerated this trend, with the government investing billions in infrastructure and evicting thousands without compensation.

Many of these displaced families ended up in Guryong Village, which was previously used as farmland and ranch space. Currently, the village remained largely intact during this period and most of the current residents are elderly with a female majority.

The entrance to this neighborhood is not very obvious from the outside. The large avenue abruptly cuts the dividing line between the exclusive buildings of Gangnam and Guryong Village. Between one world and the other there are no bridges or crossings possible.

The village is also not observable from the road, hidden between a row of tall trees, the humble houses are barely visible. The neighborhood is a labyrinth of tiny houses. Some are abandoned, and others let you hear the sound of a radio or a television on. Clothes hang haphazardly outside, lazy animals rest in the driveways, outdoor kitchens and vegetable gardens give hints of a latent life away from the bustle of the big city.

Socio-economic context of Guryong Village

South Korea has one of the highest rates of elderly poverty in the OECD, and Guryong Village is a microcosm of this. Most of the residents survive thanks to the National Basic Livelihood Security System (NBLSS), a pension scheme that provides minimal finantial support. Others rely on small contributions from relatives or war pensions.

The traditional Confusian values in Korea culture called (Hyo), make this problem more difficult to solve. The Hyo values that focused on the economic support of grandparents by their family have been replaced. Today's values place more emphasis on individualism and the ability of elders not to burden the young. Thus, the resettlement process in Korea becomes more complicated when the elderly have nowhere to go and no relatives to contact, and the state is also unprepared to take care of this niche despite its steadily aging population.

Local economical activity in Guryong

In Guryong Village, neighbors have become family, forming tight-knit bonds that provide basic survival, emotional and practical support. For many elderly residents, their neighbor network is all they have. Abandoned by both the state and their own families, these community relationships have become their primary social safety net.

This makes relocation particularly complicated. Unlike younger groups who might adapt more easily, Guryong's elderly face alarming risks—including depression, illness, and tragically high suicide rates—when separated from their support systems. In a society that's turned its back on them, the village itself has become the only family many residents know.

Small local church

“I briefly heard (about the redevelopment). They are sending us. To different places… but living alone. If I live somewhere they send me… I have people I know here. If my neighbors and friends get scattered me… how can I survive alone at such places?” A Guryong resident

Despite the advanced relocation process for residents, at the time of the visit, considerable activity was observed. Street vendors, small grocery stores, large gardens for local consumption, and community spaces such as churches and the community center.

Living conditions in Guryong Village

In this neighborhood homes are primarly constructed from thin wood panels or vinyl sheeting, with basic services only installed in 2011. While Seoul City's Water Department has provided piping, the above-roof installation make them vulnerable to wind and snow. The absence of proper sewage management presents ongoing challenges for bot public health and environment. For that reason, the government installed mobile toilets for men and women at various points in the neighborhood.

A small strea running through the village ofter accumulates debris, increasing flood risks during heavy rains. Fire hazard also remain a concern due to homes' construction materials aging electrical wiring. Interestingly, despite these infrastructure limitations, most residents report being in good health and do not experience discomfort in their living conditions.

Due to the planned redevelopment, the city has restricted major home improvements, leaving the residents to make do temporary fixes.

“You can repair stuff I guess. But I mean after 2000, you can’t even drive a nail in the wall, can’t fix your roof even when rain is leaking… since that year, we, residents, have been victims of basic human rights”. A Guryong resident

The redevelopment plan: Hope or heartbreak?

In 2010, the Seoul Metropolitan Government unveiled a plan to redevelop Guryong Village, aiming to improve the quality of life and the residential environment. Moreover, the increasing petitions from high income families living nearby, promoted the redevelopment.

Right side of the highway, Gangnam buildings. Left side, Guryong Village hidden by trees

The project includes building nearly 4000 public rental homes in an area of 266.502 m2, an elementary school, medical facilities, and green spaces. Rent will be drastically reduced to ensure residents can resettle without finantial strain. Many of Guryong's residents have already moved into temporary rental housing following a fire that eventually displaced 26 households and left 43 victims.

Winner of the design contest helded by the Seoul city and SH

At the beginning there weren't any signs of political engagement in the village due to their lack of knowledge regarding the redevelopment plan of their own village or indifference towards it. Nevertheless, community banners now hang at the entrance opposing the redevelopment and announcing community meetings to oppose the project.

The redevelopment process hit its first major hurdle when a private developer made an enticing offer: 25-pyeong Gangnam apartments plus 100 million won compensation. This proposal split the community, with some residents supporting the private plan (which included 2,700 units, 1,200 reserved for villagers) while others favored public development. The Seoul government ultimately rejected the private proposal due to concerns about green space preservation and excessive privatization of profits, despite the developer's strong push.

To address these divisions, the city established a permanent consultation body to coordinate between stakeholders. Through ongoing open discussions, they aim to find solutions that balance resident needs with urban planning goals. While COVID-19 temporarily paused these consultations, the delays also stem from unresolved compensation issues, leadership changes at City Hall, and ongoing community negotiations.

The approved plan now includes:

1,250 rental units (enough to rehouse all 1,240 households)
Job creation programs
Medical/business facilities to promote self-sufficiency
Measures to prevent new informal settlements from forming

As one 20-year resident noted, "Guryong isn't just housing - it's our life's meaning." The final plan aims to preserve this community identity while addressing practical needs, recognizing that successful redevelopment must honor both the physical and cultural dimensions of urban renewal.

What is the current situation?

The phased demolition of Guryong Village will start in mid-2025. In a significant policy decision, the government will grant subscription rights to residents who can verify their occupancy prior to January 24, 1989 - an important concession given that most current occupants lack formal property licenses. However, concerns have emerged about potential abuses of this system, including reports of falsified residency certificates and illegal sales of housing cooperative slots.

The redevelopment is projected for completion by 2029 and the master plan includes:

Nature integration: The design prioritizes connectivity with nearby Daemonsan and Guryongsan mountains
Community infrastructure: The project will introduce parks, green spaces, medical facilities, research centers, and educational institutions
Improved accessibility: Yangjae-daero, which previously isolated the area, will be redesigned to better connect with surrounding neighborhoods
Essential services: Plans include a new elementary school and upgraded residential infrastructure

The slums in the cities are a symbol and an accumulation of the shortcomings of the city administrations, and at the same time, a sample of the resilience, cultural and spatial appropriation of its residents. Both in Seoul and Medellin, these spaces, despite their structural limitations, possess a powerful union and preservation of traditions.

In its imperious need to show the world the product of its development, South Korea has decided to transform spaces with strong traditions from their roots, taking away the essence of the neighborhoods and giving them new “personalities” usually for short-term economic purposes. The renovation of these spaces is not a negative thing, but it is definitely important to maintain the essence and purpose of certain spaces and thus avoid the homogenization of a city.

Personally it was a pleasure to get to know the last days of this neighborhood and to have achieved a small photographic memory 💖

Sources:

Kim, J. (2018). Informal Settlements and Rights in Conflict: An Inquiry case of Guryong Village Land Development in Seoul, South Korea.Lincoln Institute of Land Policy

Song, J. (2012). Formation and conflict in the community of urban poor village - &dange community& and &right to the residence& in Guryong Village. 도시인문학연구, 4(2), 63-90

Sunwoo, J. (2017). Ageing Population and Slum Resettlement in Guryong Village, Seoul, South Korea.Columbia University.

April 22, 2025 No comments

Hello urban explorers! 🌆 Today, we will explore the river design in the Eco-Delta City project. One of the coolest things about EDC is how it's using the convergence of the Nakdong, Suyeong and Gwangalli rivers to create a hub for art, culture and tourism. Imagine a place where nature meets innovation, and where you can sip your morning coffee while watching birds migrate and kayakers paddle by. Sounds dreamy, right? That’s the vision for Busan’s coastal spaces—a sustainable, attractive environment that boosts livability and functionality.

Riverside Revolution: Pedestrians, cyclist, and green spaces! 🚶‍♂️🚴‍♀️🌳

The EDC project is all about comprehensive urban planning to optimize land use, connectivity, and accessibility along the rivers. Think pedestrian-friendly sidewalks, safe cycling paths, and green spaces that are perfect for picnics, yoga, or just chilling with nature along all riverbanks. While parks along Korean rivers are very common, they often suffer from a lack of connectivity and accessibility because they are limited on both sides by large avenues. EDC aims to fix that by creating seamless, accessible spaces along the riverbanks, so you can walk, bike, or roll your way through without hitting a dead end.

Building Smart: Low-rise, High Vibes

Escaping from the current tendency of high buildings in South Korea. EDC will implement special regulation for buildings within 600 meters of the river fronts. These buildings will have a height restriction of 3 to 6 floors in order to reduce visual pollution, protect natural beauty, and make life easier for birds migration. No skyscrappers allowed! This model also emphasizes the concept of mixed-use development, integrating residential, commercial, cultural, and recreational elements along the waterfront. This approach creates a dynamic environment, enhancing the quality of life for residents and attracting visitors to the area that can easily accessible from all sides of the city.

Smart Tech Meets Mother Nature 🤖🌿

Busan Eco Delta Smart City Waterfront Model leverages smart technologies and digital connectivity to enhance the overall functionality and efficiency of the waterfront area. This includes the implementation of intelligent lighting systems, real-time monitoring of environmental conditions, smart parking solutions, and interactive digital platforms that provide information and services to residents and visitors.

Given Busan's coastal location, the waterfront model also focuses on resilience and climate adaptation. This includes the integration of flood control systems, coastal protection measures, and preserving natural ecosystems to those areas can withstand the challenges of climate change.

Birds, Birds, Birds! 🦅🐦

Now let's talk about the real MVPs of the Nakdong Delta: the birds. The low speed and shallow tides in deltas create the perfect conditions for sediment deposition, which brings a buffet of marine life such as oysters and insects. For this reason deltas usually involve a migration of important amount of birds, who decide to lay their eggs and raise their chicks here.

The Nakdong Delta is no exception and outstand for its wealth of birds that make it a tourist attraction in the region, therefore it is essential to maintain maximum stability in the ecosystem. But here’s the challenge: human activity and city noise could disrupt this delicate ecosystem like alter the reproductive cycle or displace their migration to other places far from the food sources offered by the delta.

Community Power: Let’s Build This Together! 👥💪

Last but not least, EDC is all about public participation and stakeholder engagement. Local communities, businesses, and other stakeholders are involved in the planning and decision-making processes. This ensures the project meets the needs and aspirations of the people who live and work there, fostering a sense of ownership and pride in the waterfront area. Because at the end of the day, a city is only as strong as its community.

The Eco-Delta City project is more than just urban planning—it’s a vision for a sustainable, smart, and inclusive future. By blending nature, technology, and community, EDC is setting a new standard for waterfront development in Asia and beyond. What do you think about the Eco-Delta City project? Would you want to live in a place like this? Let me know in the comments below! 👇 And don’t forget to share this article with your fellow urban enthusiasts. Until next time, stay curious and keep exploring!

February 17, 2025 No comments