The Grande
Hotel stands as an architectural reminder of Mozambique’s colonial past, years
of civil war, and the subsequent psychic and physical need for a nation and its
citizens to rebuild. The years of struggle had left many Mozambicans homeless, destroyed
much of the cities’ infrastructure and littered the countryside with landmines,
making cross-country travel life-endangering. By 1992, when the civil war
ended, the Grande Hotel was already home to many refugees. It has since grown
into one of the largest squatted buildings in the world, comparable in both
population and magnitude to the Torre David – an unfinished 45-story skyscraper
in Caracas, Venezuela.
Grande
Hotel, Beira, Mozambique
|
Torre David,
Caracas, Venezuela
|
Both
buildings emerged from extravagant aspirations tailored to high-income living and
have been transformed into spaces that reflect the cities’ poverty, housing
shortage and socio-economics. But what else do these spaces say about their
inhabitants?
At the
Grande Hotel, the living conditions appear, at first glance, deplorable and
cramped. The building no longer
resembles a grandiose hotel for visiting VIPs and colonial elites, but rather an
impoverished structure – a slum – that is now home to some 750 families, or
roughly 2500 inhabitants. Anabela Saint Maurice’s documentary film, Grande Hotel, features Maria Pinto Sa, a
Portuguese-Mozambican actress and artist, who shares her memories and current
impressions of the Grande Hotel. Driving by the hotel, she remarks, “They say
this is a den full of bandits, policemen, prostitutes, thieves, that’s who lives
there now.”
This strikes me as being a rather limited perspective, based, perhaps,
out of a fear that emerges from the act of peering in. There are, however,
ample articles on the Grande Hotel, which paint a picture of an uninhabitable
slum, where rats and insects scurry through the play-space of children. There
is no water, no electricity, crime does occur (most of the building’s valuable
materials have been stripped and sold), and the concept of privacy has an
entirely different meaning here. Moreover, the inhabitants face real risks to their health and safety.
But I can’t
imagine that this village could survive -- that the human spirit could survive --
if all aspects of the Grande Hotel were as broken down as its structure. Is the
Grande Hotel a den of crime and banditry? Or is it a place where resilience can
still be found in abundance despite the poverty and accompanying health and
social issues? This is, after all, a place where many family homes have been
passed down for generations and most inhabitants have lived there for more than
a decade. According to the cultural theorist Madan Sarup, “It is usually
assumed that a sense of place, of belonging, gives a person stability. But what
makes a place a home?”
The film
offers a glimpse into the lives within this concrete village, as mayor Daviz
Shimango chats with the community: Kita Joao talks about her children and
husband’s job as a driver; a young man describes a common obstacle (no start-up
cash) to starting a business; John Usseng and his wife illustrate the outcome
of their ingenuity, having earned enough money from odd jobs that they are able
to afford electricity. They also show soap operas from time to time, charging their
neighbours a small fee for the service.
Other sources describe the informal organisational structure
governing the Grande Hotel, stating that:
“As in any
occupied house [the Grande Hotel] has its living and organizational rules.
There, the following representatives rule: the unity secretary and the
secretary of the hallway, block and floor who meet up to solve the residents’
problems, and to conduct the residents’ court in one of the hotel’s former
suites. There, discussions concerning who is more entitled to housing (a woman
with children has the upper hand), or about who is throwing dirty water onto
someone else’s balcony, take place. There are two fundamental rules: ‘keep the
cleanliness and the respect’. The cleaning is maintained by nominating shifts;
as for the respect, is has to be kept by everyone. ‘There have been cases of
abuse and rape, and the people who perpetrated these actions were kicked out’,
our host [Senhor Joao, Unity Secretary] tell us with a determined tone.”
(Source)
It seems
that despite the substantial stressors the community faces – or rather because of these stressors -- adaptability,
sociability and diplomacy are key, and extend outside of the building to
relationships with police and neighbours. Neighbours are viewed as “utterly
indispensable” for recycled water, help in an emergency (e.g. a ride to the
hospital), or pirated electricity, for example. Inside the building, there is a
mosque, church, government sponsored classes for children, and small-scale
markets amongst other informal amenities that have developed. (Source)
In many
ways, it seems like life as usual. I
found a quote from a 20-year-old dweller named Paito who has lived at the
Grande Hotel his entire life. He has an expected attachment to his home and
says, “The situation is extremely bad, but a person gets used to it. Only when
someone from the outside comes here, are we reminded of the inhumane conditions
we live in.” (Source)
Returning
to the documentary film, John Usseng draws attention to the dilemma facing the
inhabitants of the Grande Hotel, the government and the international
community. Housing is unattainable for most citizens of Beira and the
government cannot afford to repair the Grande Hotel or provide alternative housing
for its tenants. Usseng says, “If the government or international community
can’t resolve this, people will have to leave gradually. People who don’t
manage to get out of here will surely end up dying here.” Similarly, Lotte Stoop’s
documentary, also called Grande Hotel, conveys
a sense of being trapped: Wanting to leave, but having very little resources to
do so; being forced to stay knowing the situation, the building itself, will
likely decline further. In light of this dilemma – what seems to be an
impossible situation -- the inhabitants cope and continue
to construct their lives within the crumbling walls of the Grande Hotel.
References
& thought-provoking links…
On the
Grande Hotel:
On squatting:
Jolene Pozniak
