2.1. Experiences from Latur and Gujarat Earthquakes

The post-disaster context is always seen as a very immediate need for both the beneficiaries and the providers. The providers need to give a helping hand for the people who lost their houses; for them, there is an immediate requirement to shelter their families. In this pressurized situation, people tend to accept whatever they get for free.

After a disaster like an earthquake, victims often face urgent needs for shelter. Providers, such as NGOs and government agencies, rush to assist as the affected population requires immediate housing solutions. In their desperation, many survivors will accept any form of housing offered, regardless of its suitability or adequacy. This situation can lead to temporary solutions that might not meet the long-term needs of the victims.

Consider a scenario where a major hurricane hits a city, leaving thousands homeless. Emergency shelters are set up quickly, but the shelters may be overcrowded and lack basic privacy. Many people, feeling grateful just to have a roof over their heads, might overlook serious flaws in the provided shelter, illustrating the necessity that drives decision-making in crisis.

Despite having so many housing solutions, many people reject them. This raises questions about what people truly need beyond just a house. Factors such as livelihood needs, proximity to social networks, and other community aspects influence these choices.

Even when options for housing are available, many survivors may refuse them. This rejection often arises from deeper considerations about what constitutes a home. Survivors may prioritize factors like job accessibility, community ties, and living conditions near schools or markets. Such choices highlight the importance of social and economic stability over mere shelter.

Imagine someone who lost their home in an earthquake. If they are offered a new home far from their work, family, or usual social activities, they might decide it’s not worth moving. They would rather stay in a fragile but familiar environment than relocate to a new place that lacks essential connections.

During my travels after the tsunami, I encountered various agencies working on housing solutions. At one point, I visited the Auroville building center, where architects proposed new housing models based on past experiences.

Following natural disasters, architectural firms and organizations often collaborate to develop new housing solutions that address both immediate needs and long-term sustainability. The Auroville building center serves as an example where architects study past disaster responses to design better housing options. These innovations may integrate features to protect against future risks, ensuring that homes are not only rebuilt but improved.

Think of a company that produces smartphones. Each new version incorporates feedback from users of previous models. Similarly, architects working post-disaster strive to learn from past failures and successes in housing design, ensuring that each new project meets a higher standard of living and resilience.

Henry Lefebvre discusses space as a social product that can be transformed by various forces, including architecture and societal needs. He introduces three types of space: conceived space, perceived space, and lived space.

Lefebvre’s theory suggests that spaces are not just physical locations but are shaped by social interactions and needs. He describes three categories: conceived space, which involves how planners and scientists conceptualize space; perceived space, the practical interaction people have with their environment; and lived space, which refers to the emotional connections individuals have with spaces. Understanding these distinctions is critical during post-disaster recovery because they influence how communities rebuild and redefine their identity.

Imagine a park in your neighborhood. Planners (conceived space) might see it as a recreational area on a map. When you visit (perceived space), you interact with that space—running, playing, or just relaxing. But emotionally, that park represents memories of childhood play or community gatherings (lived space). During rebuilding, these layers of meaning must be appreciated to create a park that truly serves its community.

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