What I learnt from innovators, entrepreneurs and idealists in Medellín and Beirut

An ex-president under house arrest, an exploding city and the pandemic make if feel like longer ago, but we have only been back home for a couple of weeks. 18 months ago we left Amsterdam to live in Medellín, and later Beirut. My plan was to learn about how these are transformed, using social innovation and entrepreneurship. Sadly, both the ex-president and the explosion fit right into what I have learnt. But there's more positive take-aways.

Medellín's Miraculous Transformation

If you are interested in social innovation and improving cities, the case of Medellín should not be new to you. The city was a notoriously corrupt and dangerous city in the 80s and 90s. It had attracted hundreds of thousands of refugees from a war in the Colombian countryside, who ended up in vulnerable living conditions in the slums. The city's textile industry was declining and as a result, many people ended up in the city's new booming industry: drugs.

In 2004, new and independent mayor Sergio Fajardo started to reclaim the city and give it back to its citizens. To stop corruption and improve safety. He managed to secure the support of big local businesses and created a team of architects, social innovation experts, urbanists and social workers to start the transformation.

Fajardo's strategy to transform the city

In the next twenty years, Fajardo and his successors focused on stitching a broken Medellín together. They demolished the most unsafe places and built landmarks both in the poor comuna's and the unsafe center, such as the Parque de las Luces in the picture above. They built a network of bike lanes, metro lines and cable carts that went up into the slums, so that slum dwellers could reach jobs and services downtown. They invested in schools, libraries and cultural stages to provide alternatives to a career in crime. They improved squares, parks and pavements, and residents were closely involved in the process.

As a result of this social urbanism strategy Medellín's residents, Paisas, started to regain faith in their city. For the first time since their arrival, the slum residents felt like their communities mattered. Employment numbers went up and crime rates went down. Medellín is still a deeply divided city and life in the slums is tough, but overall, many Paisas are positive about the city’s transformation and their future.

Learning by doing

In the 6 months we lived in Medellín, I have been lucky to be part of some nice initiatives. The city is far from done. I helped a social enterprise that uses food and cooking for social change in the slums, Platos sin Fronteras, to gain clarity on their partnerships and growth strategy. I helped social entrepreneurs at the local Impact Hub to better connect to their customers and beneficiaries, helped a team of architects with the development of a system that warns people for landslides and I worked on a conference for mayors from all over the world in which we shared best practices of urbanism.

Working on these projects, I learnt a lot about the city’s present challenges. About getting rid of the image of Pablo Escobar, getting people to leave their cars and motor bikes for public transport, and about improving living conditions for and with the 70 percent that live in self built homes in the slums. And I learnt about the past.

The urban transformation had not been just a smooth process. Alvaro Uribe, Colombia’s president from 2002-2010 and still the country’s most powerful politician, allegedly violated human rights during his law and order-approach on the drug lords. He may have financed and given orders to the paramilitaries that made many innocent victims, he tampered witnesses, may have been involved with drug trade and corruption, and abused his power.

Some Colombians say that in the war against drugs, everything was allowed. Mostly younger Colombians disagree; it must have been complex, but there is no excuse.

Revolution and the explosion in Beirut

Sadly, corruption is the main story in Beirut. We moved there in November, curious to live in an Arab country, completely different than what we had become used to. Lebanon has a rich history and 5 of the worlds 10 oldest cities, and everything is political. Just after we booked, 2 million people took to the streets (see first picture). They demanded nothing but decency, in a country of corruption and mismanagement.

Now, almost a year after the first protests, Lebanon's dysfunctional government has cost them half of Beirut, leaving 180 people killed, 6.000 wounded and 300.000 homeless. Luckily, none of our friends are hurt badly. The government had been aware of the exposive chemicals sitting in its port area for years, only 300 meters away from residential neighbourhoods Karantina and Mar Mikhael, where we lived ourselves. Finding a solution just never was a priority. In Beirut, the interest of the people somehow rarely is.

The explosion in Beirut port area is only the latest in the series of dramatic events the city has gone through in the last years. Lebanon is only a small country, but with 18 religious communities and close neighbours such as Israel, Syria and Iran, it is never calm. The country has gone from being known as 'the Switzerland of the Middle East', to being more like Venezuela: it ranks among the top of the world in national debt and corruption. The country is still recovering from a Civil War and decades of policital turnoil. It has received 1,5 million Syrian refugees, stretching the social services. Since February, the local currency has lost 75% of its value, leaving many unemployed and doubling the number of people living in poverty. And that was before the explosion.

The revolution of hope

Last year's protests, or the ’Thawra’ (Revolution) as it is called, has strong urban roots. The religious communities realised they have much in common; their experiences with a corrupt government. Their public parks, squares and beaches had been sold by politicians to be exploited as parking lots or private beaches. Conflicting interests are barely hidden. After the war, the city center was rebuilt by Solidere, a development agency owned by president Hariri. As the president he disowned house owners, and as a developer he replaced their buildings with apartment buildings - catering to the rich. Most of them have since remained empty.

Roads are filled with pot holes, trash is only rarely collected and you can not drink water from the tap, despite the abundace of fresh water in the nearby mountains (which is being sold abroad). Local politicians are known to enrich themselves, at the cost of the people. The electricity cuts for 3 hours every day, and the money that people spend on private back-up generators disappears in politicians pockets. I was told that a couple of years ago, after a software reset everyone suddenly had 24/7 electricity, which was quickly rolled back when the politicians lost their income.

This might give you the impression that Beirut is a horrible city. It's not, thanks to the Lebanese: they are incredibly hospitable people and we were invited regularly to join a dinner or party, hiking trip or sunday roast. Lebanese value their family and friends, and are proud of their local cuisine, home made honey, oil and arak. The city is a mosaic of unique neighbourhoods, with buzzing markets and bakeries, veggie shops and bars at every corner. French colonial buildings sit next to civil war ruins and modern apartments. Shared taxis honk at you every 50 meters and traffic has it's own set of rules. Never a dull moment.

Working on a better future

Getting to know Beirut was beautiful, but also painful: this is what a city turns into when the interests of the people are completely neglected. Most young Lebanese have lost hope and are looking for a way out, like millions did before them (75% of Lebanese live outside of Lebanon). Many of those who stay are doing their best to improve the country. During the revolution the western media focused on the 2 burning cars outside, but in the meantime thousands were inside, discussing their country's issues and solutions (see picture below).

I got involved with the movement after the Thawra. I volunteered with FoodBlessed, a food relief program, where I packed boxes and helped them apply Toyota’s lean-principles in the process. I worked on a plan to turn a neglected public space into a temporary, vibrant park, using a placemaking approach and tactical urbanism. I joined the people at Public Works Studio, that were using peoples stories to show the impact of evictions and gentrification on peoples lives in order to put displacement on the public agenda. And I helped Adib Dada and his team that provide new green spaces to the city, to find ambassadors, rethink their business model and grow their business.

Without a functioning government, it is these initiaties that improve life in the city. Reclaiming places for people to meet and relax, providing social programs for people in need, advocating for the right to housing, energy and water, etcetera. It is no surprise that the Lebanese call upon the international community to support their NGO’s instead of a government that would steal the relief money.

Last month's explosion was a disaster. The deeper lying problems even more so. Hopefully, with the international attention and political pressure Lebanon’s future will change. You would wish for Beirut to get a mayor such as Fajardo in Medelíin. Someone that would open up the coastline and parks, use taxes to provide electricity and water, build the services that people need.

NB: Are you looking to support Beirut after the explosion? Donate to my friends at FoodBlessed. I can personally vouch that no dollar will be spoiled, everything will end up with Beirut's most vulnerable. 19 dollars feeds a family for a month.

What I have learnt last year

I would recommend it to everyone: take a year and leave your bubble. Find a new place and challenge yourself. Dive deep and focus on learning something new, on making impact or just on having a good time.

Last year taught me about good and bad city makers. About people's willingness to fight for public spaces. About how building a bridge between have's and have not's creates a better city for all. Public transport and parks are not a given. We need social innovators, entrepreneurs and idealists to get there. Wether they are in government or outside.

In the Netherlands we are spoilt. Our government takes care of a lot, and we have left behind many fundamental problems long ago. However, that doesn't mean that the work is done. We use too much energy, produce too much waste and our economy and housing market are not accessible for all. I feel we should all channel our inner idealist and innovator, and work on these challenges together, here and abroad. I will.