[split]
Twenty kilometres south of the Sudanese capital in Soba, the Salam Centre is the only specialised and free-of-charge medical institution for miles. It serves not only the residents of Khartoum and its surrounding areas, but takes patients from neighbouring cities and countries as well, offering a population of approximately 300 million a chance to receive superior surgical attention for grave conditions like acquired and congenital heart disease.
The centre is the result of a collaboration between tamassociati and Emergency, an Italian NGO dedicated to providing quality health care to those in need. The aim of Emergency’s compassionate team is not only to provide medical services, however, but to create a healing environment grounded in the needs and tastes of the community it is attempting to assist.
‘We design with the idea in mind that we want to communicate respect and convey to people that we are here to treat them as equals,’ explains Pantaleo.
The architects behind tamassociati are committed to dedicating their skills to projects with a social dimension. Long a supporter of Emergency’s work, about a decade ago Pantaleo volunteered as a site technician with the organisation in Darfur, launching what would become a long-term partnership. After six months in Darfur, the head of Emergency invited Pantaleo to conceptualise a hospital – the future Salam Centre.
‘The interesting thing is that when he said, “I want you to design a hospital”, I said I’d never done that before, and he said “that’s perfect. The only condition is that it should be outrageously beautiful”. I think he said “that’s perfect” because I had the right attitude – I knew how to listen and how to work on a collaborative project.’
Facing the Blue Nile, the Salam Centre is a subtle structure compared to the futuristic façades of newly-built hospitals in other, more affluent, cities. Its beauty however, stems from its modesty, from the earthy maroon of some of its walls, to the carefully nurtured shrubbery that borders them.
‘The Salam Centre was a success because it was the result of a participatory, or what I call a medieval, process – one where a community works collectively towards a common goal,’ explains Pantaleo.
There is something peculiarly wholesome about the space. While hospitals often overwhelm incoming patients with the nervous sensation that they are far from home, the Salam Centre vibrates with a more embracive personality, welcoming patients into a familiar looking environment that feels ‘theirs’. ‘It doesn’t look foreign,’ Pantaleo elaborates. ‘You feel a harmony inside. The building is not arrogant.’
The Salam Centre encompasses three operating theatres, a 48-bed ward and a prayer and meditation pavilion, among other features, in a complex of buildings that are arranged around spacious courtyards, mimicking Arab architecture. ‘The project developed very naturally,’ Pantaleo explains. ‘We listened to the people and to the land. We weren’t looking to impose our ideas, because creativity has more potential and power when it comes from the community as a whole.’
The designers studied the ‘morphology of Arab housing’ to create a public hospital that also mirrors the architecture of the Middle Eastern home: green is used to add a sense of nature to the indoors, the harsh heat is battled through organic means and a courtyard serves as the centre’s central heart, around which the life of the building is structured and organised.
The harsh Sudanese climate was also a major factor for the designers. With regular sandstorms and temperatures that stubbornly sit at 40 degrees or higher for most of the year, it is essential that the centre is heat and sand-proof yet also stays environmentally friendly and economical. What might look like aesthetic choices to visitors, such as the brick façade or the colourful garden, were actually pragmatic decisions.
The external wall, composed of an insulating air cavity sandwiched between two layers of bricks, and the many planted shrubs and trees, are meant to cool the centre and its surroundings without wasting energy and money. Thatched roofs, created using traditional bed-making techniques, shade walkways and resting areas, reflecting the designers’ commitment to resonating within the local community.
The organic approach is perhaps most blatant in the compound that houses its staff. Ninety-five recycled shipping containers, each a mere 20 square metres and equipped with a bathroom and a humble terrace facing a garden, provide sleeping quarters for the centre’s hard-working team. Seven 12 metre containers also form a cafeteria. Figuring out how to accommodate the centre’s international staff was no easy feat, especially with the limited time and money available to the design team. Repurposing abandoned containers offered both a convenient and cheap solution.
‘We didn’t create a layout beforehand. We just designed it directly onto the land, trying to work around the trees. We were inspired by a plot facing the river. The layout really came out of reality, it felt natural to open this courtyard onto the river, with its view and fresh air.’
Designing container housing in a hot climate was a challenge, Pantaleo says. ‘We made the building very compact so no sunrays could penetrate it. We used a sort of double shell, so it’s always protected, and it also gets additional shading from the surrounding greenery. That’s why it doesn’t use up a lot of energy on air conditioning.’
The shipping container homes were designed with comfort in mind. Each is equipped with a terrace facing the garden, adding the illusion of extra space. Insulating panels on the interior and exterior, a bamboo brise-soleil panel system on the outside and solar panels for hot water, were among the ‘green’ features added to make the containers Khartoum-friendly.
‘Our patients know what high standards are,’ Palanteo comments. ‘They know from television, from relatives, etc. So when they visit the Salam Centre, they can recognise that they are being taken care of.’
Since its inception, the Salam Centre has achieved its aims in an impoverished community. It is not only valued for its vital services, but cherished as a part of the community – an extension of the beloved land. ‘When you respect people, they respect you.’