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[split]
‘I realised in talking to [the fishermen] that they wanted a quality of space and life that put them on equal footing with their emigrant cousins,’ Hashim Sarkis, the architect who designed the project, says. ‘They wanted to transcend the local standards while still being there. I appreciated that and tried to express it.’
Walking through the building there is a real connection with the outdoors – an essential element for a community used to a Mediterranean climate. Exterior space was created through porches, backyards, balconies and roof decks that look out on the central courtyard. Communal indoor spaces were intentionally limited to give the maximum amount of space to play with for each apartment. ‘Thanks to the layout of the plan, I managed to create a collective space in the middle. Each unit gets about 50 percent of the indoor area through outdoor space instead,’ Sarkis says. ‘These spaces are necessary for work as well as leisure, as fishermen need outdoor spaces to undo their nets.’
The Tyre fishing community used to once solely reside in the old city’s neighbourhood of Haret el Masihiyyi, an area with a narrow maze of winding streets that all seem to lead to the sea. Many do still live there, but others have had to relocate in-land, away from the sea that’s marked their lives. Here, there are few signs of the closeness of the coast, besides the faded striped canvas curtains that flap in the breeze and the occasional scooter that drops off empty fishing cages and nets.
A predominantly Shi’a city, Tyre has suffered 40 years of instability, which has created a uniting resilience amongst the residents of the region. The small marginalised fishing community of Tyre though is one that’s long been under threat, suffering from housing shortages and over population. The tight preservation laws that come with the city’s UNESCO-protected World Heritage status meant extending their sleepy Haret el Masihiyyi neighbourhood wasn’t an option. In a stunted economy, the fishing community didn’t have the financial means to relocate.
With the help of the Association for the Development of Rural Capacities in Southern Lebanon (ADR), the fishermen formed a cooperative to find a solution to their housing needs. United, they convinced the local archdiocese to donate a piece of land in the agricultural heartlands on the edge of the city and raised funds from local and international agencies to build a new residential space. Sarkis, who has an extensive portfolio ranging from modern residential homes to social projects such as the Agricultural and Community Center in Mejdlaya, Lebanon, worked closely with the fishermen to create a design that suited their needs, building on the ‘atmosphere of trust’ that Youssef Khalil, director of ADR, had created.
‘Giving them a sense that they were together in this distant location from the old city and maximising on open space for the community, but also for the individual houses [was important],’ says Sarkis. Though the fishermen were unenthusiastic about the early design plans for the housing, with each apartment appearing different when they were looking for equality, they eventually agreed that the apartments would be equal through their differences – access to a personal garden is available on the ground floor while the apartments above have more outdoor space.
In a country where very few social housing projects exist, Sarkis describes the uniqueness of this project and the harmony between the fishermen, the client and the contractor. ‘They were all in it for the good cause and understood that this was not a regular residential project. It wouldn't have ended up winning international recognition and being an innovative project if this harmony was not there.’
It’s now been five years since the first residents moved in, and some have found it difficult adapting to their new neighbourhood. ‘It’s like taking the fish out of the sea and putting it on the land,’ Bchara Baradii says, a local fisherman and one of the project’s residents. ‘There is no substitute, we cannot stay there but it’s the only place.’ He has just turned 69 and has been in the water since childhood. His hands and face are browned by the sun, the result of a life spent outdoors. Nicolas Fakhoury, also a fishermen and head of the housing cooperative, sits opposite him. They both look down from their bright yellow shaded balcony onto the courtyard’s centre. ‘The sea wasn’t helping much – there aren’t many fish – and the government wasn’t helping,’ Fakhoury says. ‘The buildings in Tyre are old and there isn’t much space.’
At this point Fakhoury’s brother, Boutros, arrives back from a morning out at sea, though with no luck. He moved to the housing one week after it was complete in 2008 with his wife and three children. ‘I think here is better than in Tyre. It's calm, the houses are nice. They're clean and new,’ he says. ‘Before the buildings were old and we couldn't afford to fix them,’ he says. They go on to discuss a life spent at sea – sleeping on their fishing boat and waiting for the sun to rise. ‘We were born into this life,' Boutros says. ‘We were raised on the sea. We love it.'
[split]
‘I realised in talking to [the fishermen] that they wanted a quality of space and life that put them on equal footing with their emigrant cousins,’ Hashim Sarkis, the architect who designed the project, says. ‘They wanted to transcend the local standards while still being there. I appreciated that and tried to express it.’
Walking through the building there is a real connection with the outdoors – an essential element for a community used to a Mediterranean climate. Exterior space was created through porches, backyards, balconies and roof decks that look out on the central courtyard. Communal indoor spaces were intentionally limited to give the maximum amount of space to play with for each apartment. ‘Thanks to the layout of the plan, I managed to create a collective space in the middle. Each unit gets about 50 percent of the indoor area through outdoor space instead,’ Sarkis says. ‘These spaces are necessary for work as well as leisure, as fishermen need outdoor spaces to undo their nets.’
The Tyre fishing community used to once solely reside in the old city’s neighbourhood of Haret el Masihiyyi, an area with a narrow maze of winding streets that all seem to lead to the sea. Many do still live there, but others have had to relocate in-land, away from the sea that’s marked their lives. Here, there are few signs of the closeness of the coast, besides the faded striped canvas curtains that flap in the breeze and the occasional scooter that drops off empty fishing cages and nets.
A predominantly Shi’a city, Tyre has suffered 40 years of instability, which has created a uniting resilience amongst the residents of the region. The small marginalised fishing community of Tyre though is one that’s long been under threat, suffering from housing shortages and over population. The tight preservation laws that come with the city’s UNESCO-protected World Heritage status meant extending their sleepy Haret el Masihiyyi neighbourhood wasn’t an option. In a stunted economy, the fishing community didn’t have the financial means to relocate.
With the help of the Association for the Development of Rural Capacities in Southern Lebanon (ADR), the fishermen formed a cooperative to find a solution to their housing needs. United, they convinced the local archdiocese to donate a piece of land in the agricultural heartlands on the edge of the city and raised funds from local and international agencies to build a new residential space. Sarkis, who has an extensive portfolio ranging from modern residential homes to social projects such as the Agricultural and Community Center in Mejdlaya, Lebanon, worked closely with the fishermen to create a design that suited their needs, building on the ‘atmosphere of trust’ that Youssef Khalil, director of ADR, had created.
‘Giving them a sense that they were together in this distant location from the old city and maximising on open space for the community, but also for the individual houses [was important],’ says Sarkis. Though the fishermen were unenthusiastic about the early design plans for the housing, with each apartment appearing different when they were looking for equality, they eventually agreed that the apartments would be equal through their differences – access to a personal garden is available on the ground floor while the apartments above have more outdoor space.
In a country where very few social housing projects exist, Sarkis describes the uniqueness of this project and the harmony between the fishermen, the client and the contractor. ‘They were all in it for the good cause and understood that this was not a regular residential project. It wouldn't have ended up winning international recognition and being an innovative project if this harmony was not there.’
It’s now been five years since the first residents moved in, and some have found it difficult adapting to their new neighbourhood. ‘It’s like taking the fish out of the sea and putting it on the land,’ Bchara Baradii says, a local fisherman and one of the project’s residents. ‘There is no substitute, we cannot stay there but it’s the only place.’ He has just turned 69 and has been in the water since childhood. His hands and face are browned by the sun, the result of a life spent outdoors. Nicolas Fakhoury, also a fishermen and head of the housing cooperative, sits opposite him. They both look down from their bright yellow shaded balcony onto the courtyard’s centre. ‘The sea wasn’t helping much – there aren’t many fish – and the government wasn’t helping,’ Fakhoury says. ‘The buildings in Tyre are old and there isn’t much space.’
At this point Fakhoury’s brother, Boutros, arrives back from a morning out at sea, though with no luck. He moved to the housing one week after it was complete in 2008 with his wife and three children. ‘I think here is better than in Tyre. It's calm, the houses are nice. They're clean and new,’ he says. ‘Before the buildings were old and we couldn't afford to fix them,’ he says. They go on to discuss a life spent at sea – sleeping on their fishing boat and waiting for the sun to rise. ‘We were born into this life,' Boutros says. ‘We were raised on the sea. We love it.'