Monday, November 13, 2017
Thursday, August 17, 2017
Eyes on the Rise: Reimagining Miami with Higher Sea Levels
Despite the scientific consensus and the evidence released in IPCC reports on climate change, I was overwhelmed by the number of Miami residents I encountered (in the university classroom!) last summer, who are unaware or in denial that sea level rise will alter their lifestyles in the foreseeable future. But who can blame them when the skyline has nearly doubled in size in the last few years, mostly paid for by South American wealth! It doesn't help either that the state governor, Rick Scott (R), forbids the use of the term 'climate change' in government legislation or that environmental impact assessments to build new nuclear energy infrastructure along the South Florida coastline does not account for flooding related to sea level rise.
While glaciers melt, the ocean threatens the city's infrastructure, not only from the eastern and southern sides of the peninsula, but also from below. Saltwater 'intrudes' into the aquifer, threatening the city's sole source of ever depleting drinking water, at least until we figure out a way to bring down the costs of desalinization. It also bubbles up from below, preventing the city's stormwater from being flushed out. The South Miami Mayor, Phil Stoddard, had me over for an early dinner one rainy summer afternoon. He took me out to his yard (see Jack Black's video) to show me what this looks like. He has a small well in his yard, and you can see the saltwater is just a meter below the surface. The water table rises with each major rain event. He told me he's even seen fish swimming in the lawn when the water table gets really high.
Meanwhile, every King Tide or heavy storm, the pumps overflow and the streets of Miami Beach and Downtown become an urban saltwater swamp. Miami Beach's residents know what is up; that's why Mayor Levine of Miami Beach, has managed to garner political support to invest in road raising and sewage pumps to buy the city time, perhaps 20-30 years? He also has close ties to real estate interests-- Levine's friends would hate to see million dollar investments lost in the form 'stranded assets'. This, in addition to a relatively strong tax base, given that Miami Beach is advantaged by being one of more densely populated areas of the city, propel Levine to engage in cautious climate change adaptation.
The Mayor of Miami Dade County, Carlos Gimenez, is faced with an obvious decision of upgrading the city's basic infrastructure to enable a decent quality of life. But he has yet to give the green light to the water and sewer department to upgrade infrastructure. Considering the last mayor lost the election due to his plan to raise tariffs (yes, most Floridians despise paying taxes, even if it's to guarantee even a basic quality of life), Mayor Gimenez is concerned about taking a bold step for his city. He could choose to reallocate funding (which is currently being used irresponsibly) towards upgrading the county's network of sewage pumps run by the County's Water and Sewer Department (WASD). This infrastructure does not meet the Army Corps of Engineer's standards of adequate infrastructure, leading to illegal discharge of sewage into the ocean well above the EPA's clean water limits. Environmental NGOs like Miami Waterkeeper have been among the few to challenge the WASD on this matter through recent lawsuits.
Gimenez might even consider moving the most vulnerable sewage treatment plants further inland, a highly costly investment. I personally would place priority on the Central Wastewater Treatment Plant on Virginia Key, a barrier island which is very visibly experiencing erosion and is prone to severe storm surge flooding. You can see below in the GIS analysis how it is fully submerged in the case of a 100 year flood. A local geologist, Hal Wanless, doesn't even believe this site could withstand a medium strength hurricane, let alone a 5 ft. projection of sea level rise.
Based on a site visitation and analysis, the Sea Level Rise Toolbox App, provided by Florida International University's GIS Department, and a local area contour map, a few classmates and I built this model of sea level rise on Virginia Key. We had to reimagine how people would experience the island in 2075 (assuming a 6 ft. sea level rise scenario). This involves thinking about new modes of transport as current modes of access to the island (i.e., the Rickenbacker Causeway) become obsolete. Perhaps we will finally begin using ferry transportation? Maybe, instead of walking through the island on boardwalks and along the sandy dune paths, people will have to use canoes and kayaks to experience the heritage and natural aspects of the island. Perhaps, viewing towers on stilts will become the new attraction?
This thought experiment got me thinking of how communities around the world live with water, from the coastal areas that have adapted post-Sandy to the stilt villages in Borneo and Venezuela. The concept of low impact design sounds warm and fuzzy, but considering what I am about to express next, we may also have to consider large-scale technological innovation spurred by water management consultants like Arcadis and technical universities at home and abroad. Some ideas circulating include sprays that act as a water-resistant membrane to form a protective layer between new constructions and the ground. We might also follow the example of the Dutch, who have engineered their way out of flooding and are always experimenting with novel construction mechanisms that might enable us to 'colonize' the ocean and enjoy a floating utopia lifestyle. Perhaps Miami can just copy Dubai. While I don't agree with these quick fix solutions, they are something to think about, especially since coastal cities around the world will all be dealing with similar threats. But we can't forget that South Florida's unique topography and geology makes it particularly vulnerable.
For the rest of the city, which is zoned for relatively low density, 'village governments' don't have enough of a tax base to justify infrastructure upgrades. Now imagine that insurance companies stop insuring homes-- is there such a thing as climate change insurance? When a major event hits, who will pay to restore these neighborhoods? After that (assuming the rate of sea level rise is rapid and no infrastructure upgrades have been made to the rest of this stormwater infrastructure), Greater Miami, a region of 4-5 million, becomes unlivable. Our city is maybe the second or third city in the continent with the most other languages spoken other than English-- it is a city of immigrants, many of whom came here very recently. What happens when you have to depopulate an area of people who have already experienced exile or displacement in the last 50 years, either from Haiti, Cuba, or Venezuela? Where will they go? These might be the first North American climate refugees. These are the cultural considerations of climate change; Miami will become the frontline.
Disclaimer: the photos featured above display a mix of individual and/or collaborative work
While glaciers melt, the ocean threatens the city's infrastructure, not only from the eastern and southern sides of the peninsula, but also from below. Saltwater 'intrudes' into the aquifer, threatening the city's sole source of ever depleting drinking water, at least until we figure out a way to bring down the costs of desalinization. It also bubbles up from below, preventing the city's stormwater from being flushed out. The South Miami Mayor, Phil Stoddard, had me over for an early dinner one rainy summer afternoon. He took me out to his yard (see Jack Black's video) to show me what this looks like. He has a small well in his yard, and you can see the saltwater is just a meter below the surface. The water table rises with each major rain event. He told me he's even seen fish swimming in the lawn when the water table gets really high.
Meanwhile, every King Tide or heavy storm, the pumps overflow and the streets of Miami Beach and Downtown become an urban saltwater swamp. Miami Beach's residents know what is up; that's why Mayor Levine of Miami Beach, has managed to garner political support to invest in road raising and sewage pumps to buy the city time, perhaps 20-30 years? He also has close ties to real estate interests-- Levine's friends would hate to see million dollar investments lost in the form 'stranded assets'. This, in addition to a relatively strong tax base, given that Miami Beach is advantaged by being one of more densely populated areas of the city, propel Levine to engage in cautious climate change adaptation.
 |
| Road raising on Miami Beach |
The Mayor of Miami Dade County, Carlos Gimenez, is faced with an obvious decision of upgrading the city's basic infrastructure to enable a decent quality of life. But he has yet to give the green light to the water and sewer department to upgrade infrastructure. Considering the last mayor lost the election due to his plan to raise tariffs (yes, most Floridians despise paying taxes, even if it's to guarantee even a basic quality of life), Mayor Gimenez is concerned about taking a bold step for his city. He could choose to reallocate funding (which is currently being used irresponsibly) towards upgrading the county's network of sewage pumps run by the County's Water and Sewer Department (WASD). This infrastructure does not meet the Army Corps of Engineer's standards of adequate infrastructure, leading to illegal discharge of sewage into the ocean well above the EPA's clean water limits. Environmental NGOs like Miami Waterkeeper have been among the few to challenge the WASD on this matter through recent lawsuits.
Gimenez might even consider moving the most vulnerable sewage treatment plants further inland, a highly costly investment. I personally would place priority on the Central Wastewater Treatment Plant on Virginia Key, a barrier island which is very visibly experiencing erosion and is prone to severe storm surge flooding. You can see below in the GIS analysis how it is fully submerged in the case of a 100 year flood. A local geologist, Hal Wanless, doesn't even believe this site could withstand a medium strength hurricane, let alone a 5 ft. projection of sea level rise.
 |
| A GIS analysis some team mates I conducted to resemble the impacts of sea level rise on Miami Dade County's infrastructure, including the core infrastructure (sewage pumps) and institutions that support economic vitality in the city |
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| An art piece displaying Virginia Key in 2075 |
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| The land surface on which the Central Wastewater Treatment sits becomes an island |
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| Sketches of low impact design observation towers for a flooded Virginia Key |
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| 3D models of designs for a flooded Virginia Key - a ferry terminal? an observation tower? |
For the rest of the city, which is zoned for relatively low density, 'village governments' don't have enough of a tax base to justify infrastructure upgrades. Now imagine that insurance companies stop insuring homes-- is there such a thing as climate change insurance? When a major event hits, who will pay to restore these neighborhoods? After that (assuming the rate of sea level rise is rapid and no infrastructure upgrades have been made to the rest of this stormwater infrastructure), Greater Miami, a region of 4-5 million, becomes unlivable. Our city is maybe the second or third city in the continent with the most other languages spoken other than English-- it is a city of immigrants, many of whom came here very recently. What happens when you have to depopulate an area of people who have already experienced exile or displacement in the last 50 years, either from Haiti, Cuba, or Venezuela? Where will they go? These might be the first North American climate refugees. These are the cultural considerations of climate change; Miami will become the frontline.
Disclaimer: the photos featured above display a mix of individual and/or collaborative work
Learning from Latin America: 3 Types of Transport You Haven't Yet Seen in North America
Medellin, Bogota, and Curitiba. If you're an avid follower of urban transportation trends in cities, then you would know that Latin America, particularly the three cities I just listed, are hallmarks of inclusive transportation planning. These cities focus on accessibility, physical, socioeconomic, and geographic, servicing all kinds of citizens and enabling mobility across large metropolitan regions. They are also the pilot cities for concepts like rapid bus transit, Ciclovia, and urban acupuncture. Today's blog post looks at a few interesting urban transportation features I found while on an excursion through Colombia this summer.
The Moto Bruja (San Cipriano)
Referred to by locals as the "motorcyle witch", this object of human ingenuity connects highway accessible locations to more remote villages. Imagine a 'magic carpet' (actually, just a wooden board with makeshift seating powered by a motorcycle) that zips through the rainforest on well-maintained train tracks. I was taken to ride the motobruja by two friends from Cali on a surprise ecotourism adventure in the windward of the Andes Occidental. It felt like being on one of those Universal Studios rides through a simulated Jurassic Park, except the people on the vehicle with you were actually commuting from village to village and the driver is some teenager, getting the thrill of speeding down existing railroad tracks. Tourists visit the remote areas to wade in the river, jump from cliffs, hike the waterfalls, or enjoy a home cooked "cazuela de mariscos" with fish caught fresh from the river. Tourism is frequent and predictable; thus, the systems is paid for by visitors who subsidize the gasoline costs for the locals, who basically hop on and off for free. Although the ride is not for the risk-averse, it was like the most exciting sccene in an Indiana Jones film; we moved so quickly through dense vegetation, ricketing across flimsy bridges and through pitch black tunnels, with exotic bugs hitting my face. The motorcycle engine crackled and you never knew when a train would turn around the corner, but it was well worth the risk. Here is an example where transport, albeit informal and unregulated, meets the mobility needs of rural locals and adventure seekers alike. Plus, it makes for an intensely memorable travel experience.
Cirque du Soleil at Street Crossings (Cali)
In the U.S., Canada, and parts of Europe, places I've lived, streets and their intersections are known to be highly regulated spaces. However, in Cali, the wait at each intersection becomes the stage for a 2 minute circus act. In my total driving experience in Cali, I witnessed juggling, at times with fire, optical illusion entertainment, and break dancing. Local artists have a location to display their talent, or earn a few tips, while drivers are able to cope more easily with stop and go traffic on their commute to and home from work.
The Teleferico (Cali and Medellin)
In the Global North, we know gondola transport from ski resorts or reaching high elevation viewpoints. Latin America has set an example in the democratization of trasnport, putting a utilitarian spin on gondola transit. Gondolas, known in Spanish as "telefericos" meet the practical needs of workers living in distant 'invasiones' (a politically incorrect term to refer to the informal settlements often tucked away in the hills), by helping them access work and commercial services in the downtown areas. These areas are often laden with crime and poverty, thus lacking proper road infrastructure and a safe commuting route. In addition, the gondola gives locals living outside of these communities more perspective on the highly visible socioeconomic divisions and the sheer scale of these informal settlements compared to the entire built areas of the city. My friend, who lived in a comparatively higher income area, and I felt safe to see how the reality of how the majority of Colombians live from a close up bird's eye view. We could see the crooked streets, the clothes hanging to dry from the balconies, the patched up rooves, occasional murals demonstrating civic pride in the community and for their country.
The Moto Bruja (San Cipriano)
Referred to by locals as the "motorcyle witch", this object of human ingenuity connects highway accessible locations to more remote villages. Imagine a 'magic carpet' (actually, just a wooden board with makeshift seating powered by a motorcycle) that zips through the rainforest on well-maintained train tracks. I was taken to ride the motobruja by two friends from Cali on a surprise ecotourism adventure in the windward of the Andes Occidental. It felt like being on one of those Universal Studios rides through a simulated Jurassic Park, except the people on the vehicle with you were actually commuting from village to village and the driver is some teenager, getting the thrill of speeding down existing railroad tracks. Tourists visit the remote areas to wade in the river, jump from cliffs, hike the waterfalls, or enjoy a home cooked "cazuela de mariscos" with fish caught fresh from the river. Tourism is frequent and predictable; thus, the systems is paid for by visitors who subsidize the gasoline costs for the locals, who basically hop on and off for free. Although the ride is not for the risk-averse, it was like the most exciting sccene in an Indiana Jones film; we moved so quickly through dense vegetation, ricketing across flimsy bridges and through pitch black tunnels, with exotic bugs hitting my face. The motorcycle engine crackled and you never knew when a train would turn around the corner, but it was well worth the risk. Here is an example where transport, albeit informal and unregulated, meets the mobility needs of rural locals and adventure seekers alike. Plus, it makes for an intensely memorable travel experience.
Cirque du Soleil at Street Crossings (Cali)
In the U.S., Canada, and parts of Europe, places I've lived, streets and their intersections are known to be highly regulated spaces. However, in Cali, the wait at each intersection becomes the stage for a 2 minute circus act. In my total driving experience in Cali, I witnessed juggling, at times with fire, optical illusion entertainment, and break dancing. Local artists have a location to display their talent, or earn a few tips, while drivers are able to cope more easily with stop and go traffic on their commute to and home from work.
The Teleferico (Cali and Medellin)
In the Global North, we know gondola transport from ski resorts or reaching high elevation viewpoints. Latin America has set an example in the democratization of trasnport, putting a utilitarian spin on gondola transit. Gondolas, known in Spanish as "telefericos" meet the practical needs of workers living in distant 'invasiones' (a politically incorrect term to refer to the informal settlements often tucked away in the hills), by helping them access work and commercial services in the downtown areas. These areas are often laden with crime and poverty, thus lacking proper road infrastructure and a safe commuting route. In addition, the gondola gives locals living outside of these communities more perspective on the highly visible socioeconomic divisions and the sheer scale of these informal settlements compared to the entire built areas of the city. My friend, who lived in a comparatively higher income area, and I felt safe to see how the reality of how the majority of Colombians live from a close up bird's eye view. We could see the crooked streets, the clothes hanging to dry from the balconies, the patched up rooves, occasional murals demonstrating civic pride in the community and for their country.
Friday, January 20, 2017
Gardens, not Lawns: Streeter
Front lawn food growing is a growing phenomenon in urban areas, especially those facing constraints to sprawl outward. The practice comes in many forms, such as home gardens in urbanized parts of South India but also the neighborhood and household-scale 'farms' created by groups like Inner City Farms and City Beets. The benefits could include but are not limited to ecosystem services, like providing microhabitats for small invertebrates and pollinator species, reducing the food miles of our fruits and vegetables, and beautifying and diversifying our neighborhood frontages which are often limited to the turf grass look.
As part of my excitement, I decided to poll some local opinions and ideas about this urban gardening trend. Below, I have transcribed 1-minute footage for a 'streeter' in which I interviewed passersby at the University of British Columbia on the innovative practice of growing food on our front lawns.
Opening narration: Cities like Vancouver are leading the way in bringing food production back to our cities. Let's see what students at UBC think about this emerging practice.
Q1: What are your thoughts on converting front lawns to grow food?
- A1: It's okay as long as you're not growing something huge, corn or something, and you're not ruining the aesthetic of the community.
- A2: I think it's a good idea because front lawns of kind of cosmetic.
- A3: I think it's a pretty awesome way to turn an unproductive space into an actually useful space.
- A4: It could be an issue with the neighbors because it could be an eye sore, but it's probably a good idea.
Q2: Would you be surprised to hear that certain cities have made this illegal? What do you think about that?
- A5: I find that quite surprising. I don't really see the immediate reason for that. But I'm not very well-versed in this issue, so maybe there would be a good reason for that.
- A6: I think that's pretty cruel and awful. I don't see the point really. I mean, I suppose you're taking money away from the agriculture industry.
- A7: Honestly, I did not think that it would be illegal to do that, especially on your own property. That's crazy, that's crazy.
Closing narration: There you have it, students at UBC generally support front lawn food growing.
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