Let me show you some images of what I consider to be the cities of tomorrow. So, that's Kibera, the largest squatter community in Nairobi. This is the squatter community in Sanjay Gandhi National Park in Bombay, India, what's called Mumbai these days. This is Hosinia, the largest and most urbanized favela in Rio de Janeiro. And this is Sultanbelyi, which is one of the largest squatter communities in Istanbul. They are what I consider to be the cities of tomorrow, the new urban world.
Pokazat ću vam nekoliko slika mjesta koje smatram gradovima budućnosti. Ovo je Kibera, najveće ilegalno naselje u Nairobiju. Ovo je ilegalno naselje u Nacionalnom parku Sanjay Gandhi u Bombaju, odnosno Mumbaiju u Indiji. Ovo je Rocinha, najveća i najurbaniziranija favela u Rio de Janeiru. A ovo je Sultanbelyi jedno od najvećih ilegalnih naselja u Istanbulu. Smatram da su to gradovi budućnosti, novi urbani svijet.
Now, why do I say that? To tell you about that I have to talk about this fellow here, his name is Julius. And I met Julius the last week that I was living in Kibera. So, I had been there almost three months, and I was touring around the city going to different squatter areas and Julius was tagging along, and he was bug eyed and at certain points we were walking around, he grabbed my hand for support, which is something most Kenyans would never consider doing. They're very polite and they don't get so forward so quickly. And I found out later that it was Julius' first day in Nairobi, and he's one of many.
Pitate se, zašto to kažem? Da bih vam to objasnio, moram vam ispričati o ovom čovjeku. Njegovo ime je Julius Upoznao sam Juliusa potkraj svog boravka u Kiberi. Boravio sam ondje gotovo tri mjeseca, i obilazio različita ilegalna naselja u gradu a Julius mi se priključio. Bio je pun znatiželje i nekoliko puta tijekom tog obilaska uhvatio me za ruku da bismo lakše hodali, a to je nešto što većini Kenijaca nikad ne bi palo na pamet. Oni su vrlo pristojni i nikad se ne bi tako brzo nametnuli Kasnije sam saznao da je to bio Juliusov prvi dan u Nairobiju, a on je samo jedan od mnogih takvih.
So, close to 200,000 people a day migrate from the rural to the urban areas. That's, and I'm going to be fair to the statisticians who talked this morning, not almost 1.5 million people a week, but almost 1.4 million people a week but I'm a journalist, and we exaggerate, so almost 1.5 million people a week, close to 70 million people a year. And if you do the math, that's 130 people every minute. So, that'll be -- in the 18 minutes that I'm given to talk here, between two and three thousand people will have journeyed to the cities. And here are the statistics. Today -- a billion squatters, one in six people on the planet. 2030 -- two billion squatters, one in four people on the planet. And the estimate is that in 2050, there'll be three billion squatters, better than one in three people on earth. So, these are the cities of the future, and we have to engage them.
Oko 200 000 ljudi svaki dan preseli se iz ruralnih u urbana područja To je, a ovo kažem iz obzira prema statističarima koji su jutros govorili, ne gotovo 1,5 milijuna ljudi tjedno, nego gotovo 1,4 milijuna ljudi tjedno, no ja sam novinar a mi pretjerujemo, pa zato kažem 1,5 milijuna ljudi tjedno, gotovo 70 milijuna ljudi godišnje. Izračunajte si, to je 130 ljudi svake minute. Znači, u 18 minuta koliko će trajati moj govor ovdje, između dvije i tri tisuće ljudi otputovat će u gradove. A ovo su statistike Danas milijardu ljudi živi u ilegalnim naseljima, svaka šesta osoba na Zemlji. 2030. godine bit će ih dvije milijarde svaka četvrta osoba na Zemlji. Procjenjuje se da će 2050.u takvim naseljima živjeti tri milijarde ljudi, svaka treća osoba na planetu, a i više. Dakle, to su gradovi budućnosti i moramo ih uključiti u život šire zajednice.
And I was thinking this morning of the good life, and before I show you the rest of my presentation, I'm going to violate TED rules here, and I'm going to read you something from my book as quickly as I can. Because I think it says something about reversing our perception of what we think the good life is.
Jutros sam razmišljao o "dobrom životu" pa ću, prije nego vam pokažem ostatak svoje prezentacije, malo prekršiti TED-ova pravila i na brzinu vam pročitati odlomak iz svoje knjige jer mislim da govori o promjeni percepcije toga što podrazumijevamo pod dobrim životom.
So -- "The hut was made of corrugated metal, set on a concrete pad. It was a 10 by 10 cell. Armstrong O'Brian, Jr. shared it with three other men. Armstrong and his friends had no water -- they bought it from a nearby tap owner -- no toilet -- the families in this compound shared a single pit-latrine -- and no sewers or sanitation. They did have electricity, but it was illegal service tapped from someone else's wires, and could only power one feeble bulb. This was Southland, a small shanty community on the western side of Nairobi, Kenya. But it could've been anywhere in the city, because more than half the city of Nairobi lives like this. 1.5 million people stuffed into mud or metal huts with no services, no toilets, no rights.
Evo: "Koliba od zahrđalog metala stajala je na betonskoj podlozi. Bila je to soba veličine tri sa tri. Armstrong O'Brian Jr. dijelio ju je s tri druga muškarca. Armstrong i njegovi prijatelji nisu imali vode kupovali su ju od vlasnika obližnje slavine nisu imali sanitarije - obitelji u naselju dijelile su jedan poljski WC, a nisu imali ni kanalizaciju. Struju su imali, ali bio je to ilegalan priključak na tuđe instalacije koji je pokretao samo jednu slabašnu žarulju. Živjeli su u maloj sirotinjskoj četvrti po imenu Southland u zapadnom dijelu Nairobija u Keniji. Ali mogli su biti u bilo kojem dijelu grada, jer više od polovice Nairobija ovako živi. 1.5 milijuna ljudi gura se u straćarama od metala ili blata, nemaju komunalije, sanitarije ni prava.
"Armstrong explained the brutal reality of their situation: they paid 1,500 shillings in rent, about 20 bucks a month, a relatively high price for a Kenyan shantytown, and they could not afford to be late with the money. 'In case you owe one month, the landlord will come with his henchmen and bundle you out. He will confiscate your things,' Armstrong said. 'Not one month, one day,' his roommate Hilary Kibagendi Onsomu, who was cooking ugali, the spongy white cornmeal concoction that is the staple food in the country, cut into the conversation. They called their landlord a Wabenzi, meaning that he is a person who has enough money to drive a Mercedes-Benz. Hilary served the ugali with a fry of meat and tomatoes; the sun slammed down on the thin steel roof; and we perspired as we ate.
Armstrong je opisao tešku situaciju u kojoj su se nalazili: plaćali su stanarinu 1500 šilinga, odnosno oko 20 dolara što je relativno visoka cijena za sirotinjsko naselje u Keniji i nisu si mogli priuštiti da kasne s plaćanjem. "Ako zakasniš s plaćanjem mjesec dana, dođe gazda sa svojim ljudima pa te izbaci i zaplijeni ti stvari.", rekao je Armstrong. "Ma kakav mjesec! Dan!", dobacio je njegov cimer Hilary Kibagendi Onsomu, koji je kuhao ugali, spužvastu bijelu kašu od kukuruza, što je glavna namirnica u zemlji. Vlasnika su zvali "Wabenzi", što je značilo da se radi o nekome tko je dovoljno bogat da vozi Mercedes-Benz. Hilary je poslužio ugali s mesom i rajčicama, dok je sunce udaralo u tanki limeni krov i znojili smo se jedući.
"After we finished, Armstrong straightened his tie, put on a wool sports jacket, and we headed out into the glare. Outside a mound of garbage formed the border between Southland and the adjacent legal neighborhood of Langata. It was perhaps eight feet tall, 40 feet long, and 10 feet wide. And it was set in a wider watery ooze. As we passed, two boys were climbing the mount Kenya of trash. They couldn't have been more than five or six years old. They were barefoot, and with each step their toes sank into the muck sending hundreds of flies scattering from the rancid pile. I thought they might be playing King of the Hill, but I was wrong. Once atop the pile, one of the boys lowered his shorts, squatted, and defecated. The flies buzzed hungrily around his legs. When 20 families -- 100 people or so -- share a single latrine, a boy pooping on a garbage pile is perhaps no big thing. But it stood in jarring contrast to something Armstrong had said as we were eating -- that he treasured the quality of life in his neighborhood.
Kad smo pojeli, Amstrong je izravnao kravatu i obukao vuneni sportski sako, pa smo izašli na žegu. Vani je hrpa smeća označavala granicu između Southlanda i susjednog legalnog naselja Langate. Hrpa je bila visoka preko dva metra, dugačka 12, a široka tri. Ležala je u vodenastom mulju. Dok smo prolazili, dva su se dječaka penjala na tu planinu od smeća. Mogli su imati najviše pet, šest godina. Bili su bosonogi a sa svakim korakom prsti su im upadali u nečist, pri čemu bi stotine muha uzlijetale sa smrdljive hrpe. Mislio sam da se igraju, ali bio sam u krivu. Kad su se popeli na hrpu, jedan od njih skinuo je hlačice čučnuo i obavio nuždu. Muhe su gladno zujale oko njegovih nogu. Kad dvadeset obitelji - oko stotinu ljudi - dijeli jednu jedinu latrinu, baš i nije velika stvar kad dječak vrši nuždu na hrpi smeća. No, bilo je to u oštroj suprotnosti s nečim što mi je Armstrong rekao dok smo jeli - da uživa u kvaliteti života u svojem susjedstvu.
"For Armstrong, Southland wasn't constrained by its material conditions. Instead, the human spirit radiated out from the metal walls and garbage heaps to offer something no legal neighborhood could: freedom. 'This place is very addictive,' he had said. 'It's a simple life, but nobody is restricting you. Nobody is controlling what you do. Once you have stayed here, you cannot go back.' He meant back beyond that mountain of trash, back in the legal city, of legal buildings, with legal leases and legal rights. 'Once you have stayed here,' he said, 'you can stay for the rest of your life.'"
Za Armstronga, Southland nije bio ograničen svojim materijalnim uvjetima. Naprotiv, ljudski je duh dolazio do izražaja među metalnim zidovima i hrpama smeća, nudeći nešto što nijedno zakonito naselje nije: slobodu. "Ovo je vrlo zavodljivo mjesto.", rekao je. "Živi se skromno, ali nitko te ne ograničava, nitko ti ne govori što da radiš. Kad jednom dođeš, nema povratka." Htio je reći, nema povratka u svijet iza te planine smeća, u grad legalnih četvti i zgrada s legalnim najmovima i pravima. "Kad jednom dođeš ovamo", rekao je "možeš ostati cijeli život."
So, he has hope, and this is where these communities start.
Vidite, on ima nadu, od toga polaze te zajednice.
This is perhaps the most primitive shanty that you can find in Kibera, little more than a stick-and-mud hut next to a garbage heap. This is getting ready for the monsoon in Bombay, India. This is home improvement: putting plastic tarps on your roof.
Ovo je vjerojatno najprimitivnija straćara kakvu možete naći u Kiberi obična koliba od blata i šiba kraj hrpe smeća. Ovdje vidimo pripreme za dolazak monsuna u Bombaju u Indiji. To je već poboljšanje doma: stavljanje plastičnih cerada na krov.
This is in Rio de Janeiro, and it's getting a bit better, right? We're seeing scavenged terra cotta tile and little pieces of signs, and plaster over the brick, some color, and this is Sulay Montakaya's house in Sultanbelyi, and it's getting even better. He's got a fence; he scavenged a door; he's got new tile on the roof.
Ovo je Rio de Janeiro i tu su stvari već malo bolje, zar ne? Imamo pločice od odbačene keramike i komadiće znakova, gips preko cigle, malo boje... A ovo je kuća Sulaya Montakaye u Sultanbelyiju, ona je još kvalitetnija. Ima ogradu, našao je i vrata, na krovu ima novi crijep
And then you get Rocinha and you can see that it's getting even better. The buildings here are multi-story. They develop -- you can see on the far right one where it seems to just stack on top of each other, room, after room, after room. And what people do is they develop their home on one or two stories, and they sell their loggia or roof rights, and someone else builds on top of their building, and then that person sells the roof rights, and someone else builds on top of their building. All of these buildings are made out of reinforced concrete and brick.
A onda imate Rocinhu, gdje stvari izgledaju još bolje. Zgrade imaju više katova, razvijaju se. Tu sasvim desno vidite jednu na kojoj kao da se stanovi grade jedan na drugom, sobu na sobu. Ljudi izgrade dom na jedan ili dva kata i potom prodaju krov drugima, i netko drugi gradi na njihovoj zgradi pa onda ta sljedeća osoba proda svoj krov i netko treći gradi na vrhu te građevine. Sve su ove zgrade izgrađene od armiranog betona i cigle.
And then you get Sultanbelyi, in Turkey, where it's even built to a higher level of design. The crud in the front is mattress stuffing, and you see that all over Turkey. People dry out or air out their mattress stuffing on their roofs. But the green building, on behind, you can see that the top floor is not occupied, so people are building with the possibility of expansion. And it's built to a pretty high standard of design.
Ovdje vidimo Sultanbelyi u Turskoj, gdje je gradnja još sofisticiranija, na višoj razini Ovo što vidite na zgradi u prvom planu je podstava madraca i to možete vidjeti širom Turske. Ljudi suše ili prozračuju podstavu madraca na krovovima Ali kod ove zelene zgrade u pozadini vidite da zadnji kat nije zauzet dakle, gradi se uz mogućnost proširenja a konstrukcija je na prilično visokoj razini.
And then you finally get squatter homes like this, which is built on the suburban model. Hey, that's a single family home in the squatter community. That's also in Istanbul, Turkey. They're quite vital places, these communities.
I naposlijetku vidite ilegalno sagrađene domove kao što je ovaj, koji je izgrađen po prigradskom modelu. Hej, to je dom za jednu obitelj u ilegalnom naselju. To je također u Istanbulu u Turskoj. Ta su naselja prilično vitalna mjesta.
This is the main drag of Rocinha, the Estrada da Gavea, and there's a bus route that runs through it, lots of people out on the street. These communities in these cities are actually more vital than the illegal communities. They have more things going on in them.
A ovo je glavna ulica u Rocinhi, Estrada da Gavea kroz nju prolazi autobusna linija, mnogo je ljudi na ulicama. Takve zajednice u tim gradovima zapravo su vitalnije nego zajednice u ilegalnim naseljima. Tu se više toga događa.
This is a typical pathway in Rocinha called a "beco" -- these are how you get around the community. It's on very steep ground. They're built on the hills, inland from the beaches in Rio, and you can see that the houses are just cantilevered over the natural obstructions. So, that's just a rock in the hillside. And these becos are normally very crowded, and people hump furniture up them, or refrigerators up them, all sorts of things. Beer is all carried in on your shoulders. Beer is a very important thing in Brazil.
Ovo je tipična uličica u Rocinhi, takozvani "beco" i njima se krećete kroz naselje. Na vrlo je strmom terenu. Izgrađene su na brdima u unutrašnjosti iza plaža u Riju i vidite kako su kuće samo izgrađene preko prirodnih prepreka. Dakle, to je samo stijena na brdu. Becoi su obično prepuni ljudi, ljudi uz njih tegle namještaj, hladnjake i slično, svakave stvari. Pivo se nosi na ramenima. Pivo je vrlo važna stvar u Brazilu.
This is commerce in Kenya, right along the train tracks, so close to the train tracks that the merchants sometimes have to pull the merchandise out of the way. This is a marketplace, also in Kenya, Toi Market, lots of dealers, in almost everything you want to buy. Those green things in the foreground are mangoes.
Ovo je tržnica u Keniji, odmah uz željezničku prugu, tako blizu tračnicama da trgovci ponekad moraju micati robu s puta. Ovo je također tržnica u Keniji, Toi Market, puna je prodavača koji trguju gotovo svime što možete zamisliti. Ovo zeleno u prvom planu jesu plodovi manga.
This is a shopping street in Kibera, and you can see that there's a soda dealer, a health clinic, two beauty salons, a bar, two grocery stores, and a church, and more. It's a typical downtown street; it just happens to be self-built. This here, on the right-hand side, is what's called a -- if you look at the fine print under the awning -- it's a hotel. And what hotel means, in Kenya and India, is an eating-place. So, that's a restaurant.
Ovo je ulica s trgovinama u Kiberi i vidite da ovdje imaju prodavača gaziranih pića, ambulantu dva frizerska salona, kafić, dvije trgovine mješovitom robom, crkvu i dr. Tipična ulica u centru grada, samo je neplanski sagrađena Ovo ovdje s desne strane jest takozvani --ako pogledate sitna slova ispod tende-- to je hotel. A u Indiji i Keniji pod time podrazumijevaju zalogajnicu. Odnosno, restoran.
People steal electrical power -- this is Rio. People tap in and they have thieves who are called "grillos" or "crickets," and they steal the electrical power and wire the neighborhood. People burn trash to get rid of the garbage, and they dig their own sewer channels. Talk about more plastic bags than plankton. And sometimes they have natural trash-disposal. And when they have more money they cement their streets, and they put in sewers and good water pipes, and stuff like that. This is water going to Rio. People run their water pipes all over the place, and that little hut right there has a pump in it, and that's what people do: they steal electricity; they install a pump and they tap into the water main, and pump water up to their houses.
Ljudi kradu električnu energiju - ovo je u Riju Nelegalno se priključuju, a ljudi koji se time bave zovu se "grillos", "cvrčci". Oni kradu električnu energiju i distribuiraju je susjedstvu. Ljudi pale smeće kako bi ga se riješili i kopaju svoje vlastite odvode. Ima više plastičnih vrećica nego planktona, možete misliti. Ponekad se otpada rješavaju na prirodan način. A kad imaju više novca, asfaltiraju ulice i uvode kanalizaciju i dobre vodovodne cijevi i slično. Ovo je vodovod u Riju, ljudi posvuda ugrađuju vodovodne cijevi, a u onoj kolibi ondje nalazi se pumpa. I eto, to ljudi rade: kradu električnu struju, ugrađuju si pumpe, priključuju se na vodovodnu mrežu i crpe vodu u svoje kuće.
So, the question is how do you go from the mud-hut village, to the more developed city, to the even highly developed Sultanbelyi? I say there are two things. One is people need a guarantee they won't be evicted. That does not necessarily mean property rights, and I would disagree with Hernando de Soto on that question, because property rights create a lot of complications. They're most often sold to people, and people then wind up in debt and have to pay back the debt, and sometimes have to sell their property in order to pay back the debt. There's a whole variety of other reasons why property rights sometimes don't work in these cases, but they do need security of tenure. And they need access to politics, and that can mean two things. That can mean community organizing from below, but it can also mean possibilities from above. And I say that because the system in Turkey is notable.
Postavlja se pitanje, kako od koliba od blata doći do razvijenijeg grada, čak vrlo razvijenog naselja poput Sultanbelyija? Smatram da su ključne dvije stvari. Prvo, ljudi trebaju jamstvo da neće biti izbačeni. To ne mora nužno podrazumijevati vlasnička prava, i po tom se pitanju ne slažem s Hernandom de Sotom jer vlasnička prava donose sa sobom mnogo komplikacija. Njih se najčešće prodaje, pa ljudi završe u dugovima koje onda moraju vraćati, pa ponekad moraju prodati svoj posjed kako bi otplatili taj dug. Postoji niz razloga zbog kojih vlasnička prava ponekad ne funkcioniraju u ovakvim slučajevima, ali ono što ljudima treba jest sigurno uživanje posjeda. Treba im i pristup politici, što može značiti dvije stvari. Može značiti organizaciju zajednice odozdo, ali može značiti i mogućnosti odozgo. Spominjem to zbog turskog sustava, koji je vrlo značajan.
Turkey has two great laws that protect squatters. One is that -- it's called "gecekondu" in Turkish, which means "built overnight," and if you build your house overnight in Turkey, you can't be evicted without due process of law, if they don't catch you during the night. And the second aspect is that once you have 2,000 people in the community, you can petition the government to be recognized as a legal sub-municipality. And when you're a legal sub-municipality, you suddenly have politics. You're allowed to have an elected government, collect taxes, provide municipal services, and that's exactly what they do.
Turska ima dva sjajna zakona koji štite stanare ilegalnih nekretnina. Prvi se na turskom zove "gecekondu" a to znači "izgrađeno preko noći", dakle ako "preko noći" izgradite kuću u Turskoj, ne smijete biti izbačeni na ulicu bez propisanog zakonskog postupka, ako vas usput ne ulove. Drugi aspekt sastoji se u tome da, ako imate 2000 stanovnika u naselju, možete od vlasti zatražiti da vas se prizna kao legalnu podopćinu, a kad ste legalna podopćina, odjednom imate politički život. Možete birati predstavnike, ubirati porez pružati komunalne usluge,a oni upravo to i rade.
So, these are the civic leaders of the future. The woman in the center is Geeta Jiwa. She lives in one of those tents on the highway median in Mumbai. That's Sureka Gundi; she also lives with her family on the tent along the same highway median. They're very outspoken. They're very active. They can be community leaders. This woman is Nine, which means "grandma" in Turkish. And there were three old ladies who lived in -- that's her self-built house behind her -- and they've lived there for 30 or 40 years, and they are the backbone of the community there.
Dakle, ovo su građanski vođe budućnosti. Žena u sredini zove se Geeta Jiwa. Ona živi u jednom od šatora uz autocestu u Mumbaiju. Ovo je Sureka Gundi, ona također živi s obitelji u jednom od šatora uz tu istu autocestu. Vrlo su rječite i aktivne. One imaju potencijala biti vođe zajednice. Ovu ženu zovu "Nine", što na turskom znači "baka", a s njom u kući žive još tri starije žene, to iza nje je kuća koju je sama izgradila, a one u njoj žive već 30 - 40 godina i one su središte tamošnje zajednice.
This is Richard Muthama Peter, and he is an itinerant street photographer in Kibera. He makes money taking pictures of the neighborhood, and the people in the neighborhood, and is a great resource in the community.
Ovo je Richard Muthama Peter putujući ulični fotograf u Kiberi. Zarađuje fotografirajući susjedstvo i ljude u njemu i on je pravo bogatstvo te zajednice.
And finally my choice to run for mayor of Rio is Cezinio, the fruit merchant with his two kids here, and a more honest and giving and caring man I don't know.
I na kraju, ovo je moj kandidat za gradonačelnika Rija, Cezinio trgovac voćem, na slici sa svoje dvoje djece, najpošteniji, najpožrtvovniji i najbrižniji čovjek kojeg poznajem.
The future of these communities is in the people and in our ability to work with those people. So, I think the message I take, from what I read from the book, from what Armstrong said, and from all these people, is that these are neighborhoods. The issue is not urban poverty. The issue is not the larger, over-arching thing. The issue is for us to recognize that these are neighborhoods -- this is a legitimate form of urban development -- and that cities have to engage these residents, because they are building the cities of the future.
Budućnost tih zajednica ovisi o ljudima i našoj sposobnosti da s tim ljudima surađujemo. Stoga mislim da je poruka koju izvlačim iz onoga što sam pročitao u knjizi, iz onoga što je Armstrong rekao, ali i od svih ovih ljudi jest da su ovo normalna naselja. Ovdje nije bitno siromaštvo u gradovima nije bitan neki širi, sveobuhvatniji problem, bitno je da mi priznamo da su to normalna naselja legitiman oblik urbanog razvoja i da se njihove stanovnike mora uključiti u život gradova, jer oni grade gradove budućnosti.
Thank you very much.
Hvala vam lijepa.