ISVS-6

6th

International Seminar on Vernacular Settlements,

Contemporary Vernaculars: Places, Processes and Manifestations,

April 19-21, 2012, Famagusta, North Cyprus.

The Cultural and Environmental Cost of the Contemporary

Vernacular in Bangkok

Koen De Wandeler, Ph.D.

Asst. Prof., St. Lucas Department of Architecture, Brussels, BELGIUM

Head, Urban Management Track, School of Architecture and Design (KMUTT), Bangkok, THAILAND

Abstract

Vernacular architecture has been commended for a resource management that ensured socio-

cultural and environmental sustainability. However, vernacular building and dwelling practices

evolve over time. This paper examines how resource management in o te po a e a ula practices differs from that used in o e tio al Thai vernacular architecture.

A first section discusses how environment, ethnic belonging and socio-cultural organization gave

rise to various o e tio al vernacular architecture types. Socio-economic and administrative

reforms of the 19th

century, exacerbated by nation-building, geo-political conflicts and economic

growth in the 20th

century profoundly altered this situation.

The core section focuses on three case-studies of o te po a vernacular architecture in

Bangkok. The first case deals with a long-established inner-city settlement on the Western banks

of the Chao Phraya River. This settlement traditionally relied on water-borne transportation and

was spared the aggressive development that sprawled out east of the river. Currently, this area

is being integrated into the it s subway network, which may lead to the destruction of its built

he itage a d dest o its eside ts life-style.

The second case looks into Suan Prasid, a slum relocation area in the Northeastern suburbs. It

was set up twenty years ago, when slum settlements off Rama IX Road had to make place for a

vast private development project. Many evictees purchased a parcel in Suan Prasid, well

knowing that it was flood-prone during rainy season. While most current households managed

to build and consolidate their home, hardly one third of them were among the initial

benficiaries.

The third case concerns camps where construction workers live while building a nearby project.

Contractors provide these itinerant workers with make-shift cubicles that fulfill only the barest

needs in an abominable environmental setting. Yet they are the daily dwelling environment for

several hundred thousand people.

Final reflections conclude that practitioners and users of contemporary vernacular architecture

are marginalized in part because they have lost grip on resource management. Scholars of the

contemporary vernacular therefore might well team up with architecture professionals that deal

with similar deprivations in situations of emergency relief, disaster relief and the like.

Keywords: contemporary vernacular, building and dwelling practices, resource management,

Bangkok.

Koen De Wandeler

Introduction

“ hola s of the conventio al vernacular, like anthropologists, have been forced to follow the

vernacular practitioners from their mainly rural settings to mushrooming urban centrist. Whilst

this repositioning initially stirred some disciplinary anxiety, it also brought in focus the entirely

e field of the contemporary vernacular which is being explored in this conference. Being

both an architect and an urban anthropologist – and therefore doubly affected by this shift – I

have chosen to focus my contribution to this debate on the issue of resource management. My

contention is that a better understanding of the accessibility and handling of material, human

and capital resources is crucial to consolidate the disciplinary focus of vernacular scholarship and

to embed the field of study into other rising concerns in architectural theory and practice.

Conventional vernacular architecture has long been commended for doing more with less. It was

admired for making economical and balanced usage of resources to meet the widest possible

range of physical, psychological, socio-cultural and even cosmological requirements of dwelling

in a place. Mode construction, by contrast, was regarded as using more for less: methods of

mass–production and –consumption were considered a wasteful spillage of resources on

inferior-quality products. In contemporary jargon: the vernacular had been practicing de facto

sustainable architecture long before the formal construction sector even discovered the

meaning of the word.

But the modern building practices have come a long way in the past decades. Rising

environmental awareness and social responsibility have pressed construction industries

o ld ide to ake high-te h a d green means of resource management an integral part of

their production, marketing and sales strategies. Professionals in formal design, planning,

construction and real estate trades have widely adopted these measures, and made

considerable efforts to avoid spillage and reduce waste. Budgetary restraints of a worldwide

economic downturn have induced producers, clients and end-users to adopt energy- and /or

waste-reduction measures at all levels.

The architectural profession also has been heeding indications on the value and magnitude of

architecture without architects [1], contentions that eighty per cent or more of all buildings in

the world were vernacular architecture [2] and assertions that professional designers focused on

a mere ten per cent of the population that could afford their goods and services [3]. A new

generation of architects, planners and designers has been embracing humanitarianism. They

advocate a socially responsible architecture that seeks fresh, creative ways of working with

communities [4].

This paper explores how these trends are reflected in both past and contemporary

developments in vernacular architecture in Thailand, and more in particular in Bangkok. The

first section will sket h the di e se st i gs of o e tio al vernacular architecture. To illustrate

the contemporary vernacular, the second section will refer to three Bangkok case studies i.e.,

the t aditio al Khlong Bang Luang neighborhood in the inner city, the Suan Prasid slum

elo atio p oje t i the it s No theaste su u s, a d a a o ous o st u tio o ke s camp in the Western suburbs. Final reflections will return and further elaborate the issues raised

in this introduction.

ISVS-6, April 19-21, 2012, Famagusta, North Cyprus

Conventional vernacular architecture in Thailand

Thailand has often been described as a water-based society. As in most of Southeast Asia,

settlement patterns as well as livelihood practices and architectural features demonstrate that

water historically has played a crucial role in the resource management of vernacular Thailand.

Socio-economic, cultural and environmental changes since the 19th

century have largely

dissociated this traditional water-oriented feature from building and dwelling beliefs, knowledge

and practices. The flood crises of past years serve as a reminder that this vital resource requires

careful and vigilant management.

A richly diversified vernacular heritage

Thailand is characterized by a warm and humid climate with a short cold season, a warm season

and a prolonged monsoon season. It has three distinct geographical regions: the central plain,

the Khorat plateau to the East, and mountains over the rest of the country. Historically, these

regions were densely forested, largely inaccessible and sparsely populated. Settlements were

scattered along rivers and lakes, as waterways provided the only viable transportation routes

and were lifelines fo the ulti atio of i e, Asia s staple food.

Environmental conditions, regional variations in water resources and the availability of certain

strains of rice lead to a variety of cultivation methods. Dwellers in the Northern mountain areas

set up co-ope ati es to uild, ai tai a d a age i igatio s ste s. Co u ities survival on

the Northeastern plateau depended on water storage and distribution, while in the central

plains, annual floods required a network of dykes and water-gates.

These divergences in environment and societal organization, along with ethnic diversity, varying

belief systems, and migratory patterns gave rise to a wide variety of vernacular architecture. This

architecture as a rule involved the creation of a widely-spreading rooftop and an elevated living

platform. Both roof and platform casted shadows and thus created temperature differentials

that enhanced natural ventilation. The rooftop and the eaves protected the dwelling from

torrential monsoon rains while the runoff water could easily be caught and stored below the

platform level. The raised floor offered additional workspace and/or storage underneath.

Moreover, it protected householders against dust and dirt, wildlife and uninvited visitors, and

most importantly, against mudslides and floods [5][6].

Dwellings usually were located near the water as it naturally provided a cooling influence.

Dwelling types comprised raft houses near the river banks and houses on stilts along the

riverbank or on land. Structures on or in the water were mostly made of light-weight materials

like bamboo, thatched grass or leaves. Stilt houses mostly had structures made of wood, while

roof and wall materials were either thatched grass or leaves, bark, bamboo or wood. Bamboo

structures were either temporary or semi-permanent; wooden dwellings were more permanent,

but could easily be disassembled, relocated and reassembled when necessary [6][7].

Conventional building and dwelling practices attached great importance to the choice and

ceremonial preparation of the construction site, to the selection and ritual processing of key

building components, and to rites securing a safe and prosperous occupation and inhabitation of

the building. Critical steps in the construction process, such as the breaking of the ground, the

erection of the master post, the completion of roof covering, etc. were conducted after

consultation with fortune tellers and under the watchful eye of a specialized building master.

Construction and maintenance practices usually involved communal labor on a mutual help

Koen De Wandeler

basis, thus creating recurrent occasions to strengthen solidarity and cooperation among

households. Likewise, dwelling practices were formally regulated and punctuated by daily,

seasonal or life-cycle rituals. Not surprisingly, water played a major symbolic role in many of

these ritualistic enactments [7][8].

Transformations

Throughout the successive eras of Thai state formation up until the first reigns of the Bangkok-

based Chakri dynasty (1782 – present), the livelihood of ordinary citizens focused on rice

cultivation. State interference in water resources were limited and served to make waterways

better connected and suitable for the transportation of trade-ware and tribute. Central

government and local landlords used forced labor to execute these public works. As in most of

Southeast Asia, lack of human resources and control over manpower rather than the pursuit of

natural resources or territorial control motivated regional warfare. Prisoners of war and

refugees thus came to settle in the central plain and brought along their own variations of stilt-

houses. As trade and tribute were mainly geared towards China, trading and commerce were

largely managed by Chinese, who were exempt from forced labor. The Chinese immigrants

brought along a completely different building style: one that was built on land, using brick and

plaster and ceramic roof tiles. When their numbers swelled during the first reigns of the Chakri

dynasty, Chinese craftsmen made important contributions to the built heritage of the newly

established capital [6][9].

By the mid-19th

century, re-alignments in Thai political power and the menace of colonization

brought about major shifts in this traditional mode of resource management. By concluding

trading agreements with Western states, the Thai government was made to redesign the entire

system of state revenues and expenditures. As exports and trading taxes became the main

sources of state finance, state agencies began to promote agricultural production and facilitate

exports of agricultural produce. The state expanded its control over water resources, thereby

matching its concerns about transportation with efforts to increase agricultural production.

Commercialization of the agriculture sector accrued the value of landed property resources.

Shifts in the economy brought about a growing division of labor; citizens took on new

employment opportunities which further undermined the traditional system of forced labor.

Increasingly, imported Chinese labor came to replace Thai citizens in the construction of new

canals, railway lines and other public works [9].

As a consequence of the tighter relations with the West, Western settlers came flocking to

Ba gkok. The added a othe la e to the it s ulti-racial, multi-ethnic and multi-lingual

diversity and established a lasting influence on formal architectural and urban planning

practices. As part of sweeping reforms in the second half of the nineteenth century, Western

models of administration and management were introduced and Thai administrators were sent

to Europe and the United States to further their education. New ministries and government

buildings were designed by Western architects, and upper-class Thai often adopted these

Western influences in their residences.

All these changes unmistakably had far-reaching effects on vernacular practices. Perhaps the

most important alteration was that building and dwelling became land-based rather than water-

based activities. With the advent of transportation by rails and roads, waterways became less

important for trading. They retained their symbolic value and water maintained a high ritual

significance. However, land came to be viewed as a more important resource and became a

sought-after commodity. The new forms of vernacular architecture – whether it was the Chinese

ISVS-6, April 19-21, 2012, Famagusta, North Cyprus

shop-house, the missio a -style bungalow, or the Western-style institutional building – all

were built on firm ground and modeled to line up along roads rather than waterways.

A second paradigmatic shift occurred as the twentieth century advanced and Western styled

residences, office blocks and apartments proliferated. With the abolition of the absolute

monarchy, the bureaucratic apparatus grew ever larger and reached a far-reaching level of

centralization. Thai political and administrative discourse became increasingly nationalistic as

geo-political conflicts tore up most of Southeast Asia. The tendency to promote cultural

integration and build national unity in no small way affected vernacular practices among

minority groups throughout Thailand. So much so, that surging tourism and alternative ways of

travelling in the past two decades have prompted a revi al, a d i so e i sta es, a e-

i e tio of traditional ways of life [9].

This new traditionalism is largely linked to the idealization of rural life. Indeed, the third major

factor affecting vernacular practices has been the shift from a rural to an urban society. As in

most countries in the Global South, rural-urban migration in Thailand gained momentum in the

1960s. This migration was largely focused on the capital city and has made Bangkok one of the

most primate cities in the world. The huge influx of rural migrants lead to a proliferation of slum

settlements. The authorities initially recurred to slum clearance. From the 1970s onwards, they

began to introduce slum-upgrading, sites-and-services projects and other re-housing solutions.

Given the magnitude of the problem, the private sector also made efforts to down-scale its

formal housing production – without ever being able to reach the poorest sections of the urban

population. Therefore, important sections of the urban population still rely on various forms of

contemporary vernacular architecture [10].

Contemporary vernacular architecture in Bangkok: three case studies

In spite of monsoon rains and the adversity of the urban environment, much of the

o te po a vernacular architecture in Bangkok has been around for several decades,

sometimes even for more than a century. Even though authorities did not intervene much to

protect or regulate vernacular architecture, several neighborhoods in the very centre of Bangkok

have subsisted without major changes and are still being inhabited and/or used for the purposes

they were initially intended. Less centrally located neighborhoods often went through a rapid

succession of changes in land use, type of inhabitation and built-up environment. These areas

display a variety of more recent examples of contemporary vernacular architecture. The most

recent and least pe a e t fo of e a ula a hite tu e o sists of o st u tio o ke s camps, which are spread in both the inner- and outer-city areas as a by-product of the formal

construction sector. This section reviews the characteristics and the resource management in all

three types.

Old established neighborhoods

Khlong Bang Luang efe s to a neighborhood where vernacular practices have been in use ever

since the capital of Thailand was established in the Thonburi / Bangkok area. It is located in

Thonburi, opposite Rattanakosin – the historical heart of present-day Bangkok – and stretches

from the Western bank of the Chao Phraya River to both sides of the Bang Luang canal. This

canal formed the natural riverbed of the Chao Phraya River until well into the Ayutthya era

(1350 – 1767). In 1522, a canal was dug to connect two meanderings of the Chao Phraya River

and thus shorten travel time between the Gulf of Siam and Ayutthya. Over time, the strength of

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the current eroded the canal banks until the shortcut turned into the main course of the Chao

Phraya River and the old riverbed became a canal [11].

At the conjunction of the river and the canal, Ayutthya kings established city outposts where

levies were charged on ships heading towards the capital. The surrounding area grew into the

logistic station of “ia s “outhern trade. People from various origins settled here and gave rise

to a distinct community blending different cultures and traditions. Within months after the fall

and destruction of Ayutthya, the community gained more prominence as it became the power-

base of a new Thai kingdom (1776 -1782). Among the new settlers were nobles, tightly-knit

Muslim groups as well as Chinese combatants who were rewarded for helping the new king

establish, extend and consolidate the Thai kingdom. The glorious reign was short-lived, however,

and ended in violence and confusion. The new Chakri dynasty turned away from Thonburi and

shifted the capital to Bangkok on the eastern banks of the Chao Phraya river [9][11].

Bangkok initially was limited to the Rattanakosin area. Successive expansions involved the

digging of two more two more city moats. Significantly, the construction of Dusit Palace and the

surrounding grid-pattern urban expansion at the turn of the twentieth century (1897 -1901)

signaled a resolute abandon of water-based architecture and urban planning. Later planning

efforts retained the accessibility by road as key to urban development, but only provided a track

of radial access roads. Channeled along those thoroughfares, urban expansion in the twentieth

century – and particularly from the 1960s onwards – was rampant, largely unplanned and driven

by the commoditization of urban land. Large land holdings by public agencies and the piece-meal

land speculation by private persons and companies came to characterize this urban sprawl [9].

Khlong Bang Luang clearly reflects this remarkable feature. Whilst Thonburi was officially

incorporated in Bangkok Metropolis as of 1972, urban development on both sides of the Chao

Phraya proceeded at a different pace. Unlike downtown Bangkok and its radially expanding

suburbs, waterfront areas – particularly on the Thonburi side – lacked any comprehensive form

of sustainable development. On the contrary, traditional accessibility via waterways was

seriously restricted by land holdings by higher institutions and/or metropolitan planning

priorities. The headquarters of the Royal Thai Navy, for example, occupy an extensive stretch of

land along the Chao Phraya River which isolates the southern part of the neighborhood from

i e a ess. As pa t of Ba gkok s flood p ote tio pla , ate gates and sluices were built to

regulate water levels in the Khlong Bang Luang canals. While these gates do little to prevent the

Thonburi side from flooding, they obstruct water traffic of people and goods and thus seriously

impede on the social and economic vitality of the area. A limited boat service along the main

canal provides the only public transportation service for local residents. Meanwhile, hired

boatmen thrive on bringing tourists from the Bangkok side to experience the sluice system and

gi e the a tou of the ge ui e Thai a of life that lies e o d the .

And indeed, tourists are not disappointed as they find a network of canals, temples and shrines

among the lush greenery, stilt-houses and pavilions perched on the canal banks, as well the

occasional vendor paddling along. The old settlements along the waterways exhibit a range of

o e tio al vernacular architecture: following the categorization introduced by Punrairoj, one

can distinguish a variety of traditional Thai houses, a t a sfo ed Thai houses and some

ep odu ed Thai houses [12].

Given this traditional concentration of settlements and activities along waterways, there was

little obstruction to lay out road tracks in Khlong Bang Luang. Major roads either link up with a

bridge to the Bangkok side or connect different bridge-access roads in a north-south direction

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parallel to the river. Charansanitwong, the main north south artery through Khlong Bang Luang,

was rebuilt to become part of the inner ring road in the early 1990s. It has recently again been

dug up again for the construction of a subway line to complement the subway loop on the

Bangkok side. The traffic congestion resulting from this situation accentuates that the area lacks

any form of secondary road network: the lanes in between the north-south axes in the area are

barely wide enough to absorb one-way traffic and they are so densely inhabited and full of road-

side activities that through traffic is hardly an option.

This raises alarming prospects on the course local building and dwelling practices are likely to

undergo, he e the su a s ste ill ope up the area for commuters from other parts of

the city. Insufficient public utilities and assistance, slum- and squatter settlements, poor flood

control and inexistent river- and canal water treatment are likely to be aggravated by rising

development pressures, and increasing rental and sales prices, all leading to the displacement of

local residents who are the living legacy of the area.

Newly established neighborhoods

From 1987 till 1997, the Thai economy was booming. Bridges and new road works penetrated

into several of Bangkok s supe lo ks (i.e. la ge t a ts of li d la d i et ee the it s adial expansion corridors). Land prices skyrocketed; public agencies and private developers scrambled

for a chance to cash in on this craze. Hamlets and slum- and squatter settlements that had

subsisted on previously inaccessible marshland were cleared to make way for large-scale

developments of housing estates, office buildings, hotels and shopping malls [9].

Rama IX road in the northeast of Bangkok offe s o e su h o u e e. It ope ed up sizeable

tracts of land held, among others, by the State Railways of Thailand (SRT). As the agency had no

plans to use the land for its own operations, it agreed to a 30-year lease of 13.75 hectares of

land to a Thai-Singaporean company [13]. The real estate developer promptly came up with the

Royal City Avenue project: a prestigious development plan including shop-houses, a hotel and a

shopping complex. Three squatter communities totaling 110 households held up the project

because they refused to vacate the land. Both the land owner and the developer made several

attempts to placate the squatter households with monetary compensations and alternative

settlement sites. However, one of the community leaders had identified an affordable and more

suitable location and called in the help of a sympathetic NGO and the National Housing

Authority (NHA) to negotiate resettlement to this site. Despite this initiative, many households

accepted the compensation and left. A hard core of 35 households eventually negotiated a

compensation that was sufficient for the NHA to purchase the 1.12 hectares of land and prepare

a land subdivision plan for 100 parcels. The resettled households agreed that they would buy

their parcel and construct houses by themselves [14].

The relocation site was situated in Bangkapi, a suburban district northeast of Bangkok. It was

located half a kilometer from the main road, on swampy land that was only accessible via a dirt

road. With the help of the NHA, other evictees had earlier purchased a nearby parcel and set up

a new community called Suan Prasid (i.e. Golden Opportunity). The remaining households from

Rama IX, together with evictees from nearby areas occupied a second relocation site. Later on,

more evictees set up a third relocation site in the vicinity.

After squatter households had dismantled their shelters, and packed their belongings, the

Express Transportation Organization and the Bangkok Metropolitan Administration dispatched

trucks to help them make the actual move in April 1989. Meanwhile, the NHA had prepared the

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resettlement site by providing drainage pipes and building roads with earth dug up from the

residential land. It also had provided some toilet blocks and an NGO had provided concrete poles

for house construction. However, the NHA did not allow house construction until building

permits had been obtained on basis of a standard NHA house design. It took until July 1990 for

the plans to be approved. In the meantime, settlers erected makeshift shelters with the building

materials they had brought from Rama IX. As there was no electricity supply and water had to be

brought by tankers, the community made informal arrangements for water and electricity supply

from nearby houses. The provision of basic services was upgraded through small grants and

goodwill from a variety of donors. NHA arranged for permanent provisions as soon as

construction permits had been granted [14].

From July 1990 onwards, some households began to build permanent houses. Some could afford

to fill the land and to build double-storied concrete houses; other households built on unfilled

land creati g a t pe of t a sfo ed Thai house elevated on concrete poles. However, many

families continued to use wooden structures, asbestos sheets for walls and corrugated iron

sheets for roof covering. Housing was not necessarily improved or extended, as important shifts

in ownership and occupancy took place over the years. A study conducted in 2011 found that

nearly half of the residents were newcomers and only one third were original settlers who had

acquired land ownership and improved their houses according to their affordability [13]. As a

consequence, the housing quality and value in the community widely varies up till the present

day. Overall, the built fo ea s little ese la e to t aditio al o t a sfo ed architecture;

as most of it consists of contractor-built, ground-level, concrete and brick housing, there is no

apparent reference to vernacular practices.

However, slum upgrading and resettlement are not without relevance for understanding the

contemporary vernacular. These processes clearly demonstrate the importance of citywide

informal networks among slum dwellers and other marginalized sections of society. At times of

crisis, such as fires and evictions, mutual self-help housing is still the rule rather than the

exception. As the resettlement of the Rama IX communities clearly demonstrates, solidarity

movements ha e to a e tai e te t e o e i stitutio alized , with different non-government

and government organizations chipping in support in one way or another.

Over the past twenty years, Thailand has moved beyond the piece-meal approach where every

community had to reinvent new ways to upgrade or resettle. The country has realized important

progress in the mutual support system through the establishment of the Community

Organization Development Institute (CODI) and the Baan Mankong project. CODI focuses on the

mobilization of financial resources for disinvested communities: it organizes community saving

groups and mobilizes revolving low-interest loans for upgrading or resettlement. The Baan

Mankong project provides a common approach for this kind of projects country wide: it seeks to

provide a common forum for disinvested communities within any given city and instill them with

the capacity to set development priorities on a city-wide level and to build a national (and even

international) network [15].

By-products of the formal construction sector

The construction boom gave rise to a multiplication of real estate services and created

employment for a wide range of professionals and laborers. It provided contracts to a wide

range of construction companies and thus absorbed a huge mass of skilled and unskilled

laborers. At the height of the construction boom, the number of construction workers in

Bangkok was estimated to approximate one million people [16]. This workforce had to be

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recruited from secondary towns, rural areas, or among legal or illegal migrants from

neighboring countries. Construction companies and contractors had to provide temporary

housing on or near construction sites. Thus, the construction boom not only displa ed tens of

thousands of marginalized households, but also created its own disti t fo of co te po a

e a ula : the o st u tio o ke s a p.

The practice of temporarily housing workers involved in the construction or maintenance of a

building can be traced to the mutual-help traditions of the conventional vernacular. It is still

widely used for the o st u tio of t a sfo ed a d ep odu ed Thai houses. Contemporary

variations in the formal real estate sector differ from this practice in terms of size, location,

duration, mode of operation and resource management.

Contemporary real estate projects sites often require the mobilization of large groups of

workers. The size of these groups and their occupational skills vary over time as a project

progresses. On-site housing may be feasible for the construction of housing estates or large-

scale public works that occupy large tracts of land. It is usually impossible for the construction of

walk-up apartments or high- rise buildings. Construction companies therefore seek to lease

vacant plots of land within easy reach of the construction site. They build simple one-or two-

storied wooden structures with compressed wood pulp boards as floors and corrugated iron

sheets as wall- and roofing material. The structures are roughly subdivided in cubicles of 5 to 10

sq.m. each with a separate entrance. A camp like this may comprise from 10 up to several dozen

cubicles according to the workforce at any given phase of the construction. All cubicles only have

an elementary electricity supply; water is supplied through communal taps. Basic toilet, bathing

and facilities are communal and often largely outdoors. Walkways, if any, are rudimentary, made

of wooden planks and scrap materials [17].

A construction firm may use one and the same camp site for housing workers of several

construction projects that are either consecutively or simultaneously under its supervision. The

company itself may provide a camp that lasts throughout the entire duration of a construction

site, or it may require that each contractor provides his own housing amenities for the duration

that he is involved in the project. In either case, most cubicles have a high turnover of

inhabitants as every phase of a construction project requires laborers with specific skills. For

large construction sites which are operated around the clock (i.e. three 8-hour shifts), one and

the same cubicle may be occupied by different users at different times of the day [17].

With long working hours, little time to spare and little money to spend, workers tend to seek

distractions within the confines of the camp, either with music, TV, board- or card games. The

camp sites but rarely offer space for sports or other forms of socializing besides the occasional

drinking bout. Brawls and fights occur, especially when the camp population consists of different

linguistic- or ethnic groups. The ghetto-izatio of the camp is further enhanced by the control

that contractors exert on the provision of basic goods. Camps usually have a grocery store run by

an assistant of the contractor. Workers can buy food stuffs and basic goods on credit; their

expenditures are carefully noted and deducted from their salary. Yet, most workers manage to

send a sizeable portion of their salary as a remittance to their family members back home.

While solidarity with extended family remains an important issue and possibly the main motive

for this itinerant way of life, social cohesion among construction workers is all but absent. They

ha e o o e ship of the environment they live in as contractors mobilize all resources for

them: land, housing, amenities, and even basic household and food resources. While this may

appear both logical and efficient from the point of view of construction businesses, the long-

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term effects on construction workers raises some questions. How will living under such

conditions affect their social skills in ordinary life? How will it affect their decisiveness in building

and dwelling practices once they return to their native homes? Will they continue to rely on

contractors or will they be able to make use of their year-long experience in the construction

se to to o t i ute to the o te po a vernacular?

Final reflections

The past and present development of vernacular architecture in Thailand confirms a trend

towards marginalization, which I believe can be generalized for both the Global North and South.

M u de sta di g of a gi alizatio is t ofold. It de otes that the e acular as a mainstream

architecture has been marginalized, o e shado ed a d i aded ode construction

industries and techniques. In the Global North, this t e d is o s iousl alte ati e building

and dwelling practices. In the South, this trend is cut short because large portions of the

population simply do not dispose of the means and/or do not have access to the resources to

the ode construction sector. This leads to the second connotative meaning: the vernacular

as it was practiced by an entire population has in its contemporary form been referred to

marginalized groups of the population as the main – and often the only available – building and

d elli g p a ti e. As e tio ed i the i t odu tio , the u a ias pla s a i po ta t ole in

this issue. But also among urban populations, the marginalized sections are the ones who rely on

contemporary variations of the vernacular.

A second obse atio is that the ea liest o te po a variations have often become obsolete

and are considered derelict remnants that stand in the way of urban renewal and progress. This

is a potentially dangerous situation as it may lead to the random destruction of recent cultural

heritage. As demonstrated by the case of Khlong Bang Luang, this involves more than the loss of

material culture and resources: it also endangers the loss of construction and maintenance skills

and even more importantly of living and dwelling practices. Scholars of the contemporary

e a ula the efo e should ha e e e fo li i g ultu e , a e e e o e tha thei olleagues stud i g the o e tio al e a ula .

A third reflection further elaborates the aspect of human resources. The move to urban settings

has considerably widened the social networks involved in contemporary vernacular architecture.

From the small mutual-help groups, the scale has grown to entire communities, networks of

communities and linkages between communities and NGOs, interest groups and local

authorities. As pointed out in the discussion of slum upgrading and resettlement, public-private

partnerships have been encouraged and consolidated over the past two decades. Whilst this

trend towards wider solidarity undeniably is a positive development, we also need to

a k o ledge the isk that utual help e o es i stitutio alized a d to so e e te t es apes direct control of the partners involved.

The fourth comment draws on the case study of o st u tio o ke s a ps. This is he e the modern construction sector directly influences the lives of tens of thousands of households –

none of whom are its customers. For the sake of efficient and effective business management,

workers are totally deprived from controlling any resources involved in their dwelling and living

practices. Whilst the workers may acquire new skills and thus benefit from their employment in

the modern construction industry, they may also lose their capacity in creating ethnically and

culturally diverse contemporary vernacular architecture upon their return back home.

ISVS-6, April 19-21, 2012, Famagusta, North Cyprus

Co pa iso of o e tio al a d o te po a e a ula a hite tu e i Thaila d lea s that the e ha e ee o side a le shifts i esou e a age e t. The a gi alit of the contemporary vernacular lies for a great deal in the fact that it has lost its grip on traditional

ways of accessing, handling, maintaining and recycling resources. This deprivation may affect the

capability of practitioners of the contemporary vernacular to connect with their environs in a

socially, culturally and environmentally sustainable way. It might be good for scholars of

contemporary vernacular architecture to team up with colleagues who have embraced

humanitarianism. Some of these professionals rely on the local wisdom of urban villages or

disinvested communities threatened with eviction, others support the progression of community

organization and/or redevelopment, and still others become actively involved in the multi-

tasked, multi-disciplinary efforts of emergency relief and disaster recovery [18]. These

professionals are forced to reconcile the conditions of environmental concerns, social distress,

limited (access to) resources and technological innovation. Their experiments and practices

could well offer important lessons for a greater resourcefulness in contemporary vernacular

architecture.

References

[1] Rudofsky, B. Architecture Without Architects. A Short Introduction to Non-Pedigreed

Architecture. Museum of Modern Art, New York, 1964.

[2] Oliver, P., Vellinga, M. and Bridge, A. Atlas of Vernacular Architecture of the World.

Routledge, London, 2008.

[3] Smith, C.E. Designing Inclusive Cities. Design with the Other 90%: CITIES. Smithsonian, New

York, 2011, pp.1-31.

[4] Hawthorne, C., Altruism, Architecture & Disaster, Architect, September 2011,

www.architectmagazine.com/architects/altruism-architecture-disaster_2 (January 2012)

Koen De Wandeler

[5] Roonrakwit, P., Thailand and Southeast Asia. In P. Oliver (Ed.), Encyclopedia of vernacular

architecture of the world. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1997.

[6] Punpairoj , P. Recalibrating the New Thai Vernacular Architecture. Journal of Architectural

Research and Studies, Vol. 7/2 (2010), pp. 65-79.

[7] Denpaiboon, C. Transformation by modernization of the traditional waterfront settlements in

the context of their coexistence with the aquatic environment. Kyoto: Graduate School of

Engineering, Kyoto University, 2001.

[8] Turton, A., Architectural and Political Space in Thailand. G.B. Milner (ed.) Natural Symbols in

South East Asia, School of Oriental and African Studies, London, 1978, pp.113-132.

[9] De Wandeler, K., Locality & Urban Discourse. Bangkok in the mid-1990s. Ph.D Dissertation in

Anthropology and Sociology, School of Oriental and African Studies, London, 2002.

[10] Yap, K.S. and De Wandeler, K., Self-help Housing in Bangkok, Habitat International, Vol.34/3

(2010), pp. 332-341.

[11] De Wandeler, K., DPL603 - Social and Cultural Studies. Introduction to fieldwork in Khlong Bang

Luang, “ hool of A hite tu e a d Desig , Ki g Mo gkut s U i e sit of Te h olog Tho u i, Bangkok [on-going research study].

[12] Punrairoj, P. The transformation of traditional Thai houses: steps towards the recognition of

changing vernacular forms, Ph.D. dissertation, Program of Architectural Heritage

Management and Tourism. Silpakorn University, Bangkok, 2010.

[13] Leeruttanawisut, K., Tenure Security and Housing Improvement in Resettlement Projects: a

Case-study of Suwan Prasit 2, Bangkok, Thailand. M.Sc. in Urban Management and

Development thesis. Project. Institute for Housing Studies, Rotterdam, 2011.

[14] Yap, K.S. The Suwan Prasid 2 Resettlement Project. Yap Kioe Sheng (ed.) Low-income

housing in Bangkok: A review of some housing sub-markets, HSD Monograph 25. Asian

Institute of Technology, Bangkok, 1992.

[15] Boonyabancha, S., Trusting that People Can Do It. Smith, C.E (ed.). Designing Inclusive Cities.

Design with the Other 90%: CITIES. Smithsonian, New York, 2011, pp.61-70.

[16] Ogunlana, S. Thai women construction workers. Interdisciplinary Studies in Gender and

Development in conjunction with the Structural Engineering and Construction Program,

Asian Institute of Technology, Bangkok, 1993.

[17] De Wandeler, K., DPL662 - Community, Planning and Public Involvement, School of

A hite tu e a d Desig , Ki g Mo gkut s U i e sit of Te h olog Tho u i, Ba gkok [o -going

research study].

[18] Al ui o, M.J. P efa e: Be o d “helte : A hite tu e a d Hu a Dig it . I Beyond Shelter:

Architecture for Crisis. Thames & Hudson, London, 2011, pp.6-10.