J’ai rencontré Audrey Pastel (née en 1989) pour la première fois à la conférence du Forum urbain des Caraïbes 2024 en République dominicaine. Nous faisions tous deux partie d’un groupe de jeunes délégués qui se réunissaient fréquemment pour délibérer sur le développement urbain régional, y compris des sujets brûlants tels que le retrait des monuments coloniaux dans l’espace public, la gouvernance urbaine démocratique et notre observation commune du manque de leadership politique dans la promotion d’un programme urbain durable. Audrey a été surprise de découvrir que je parle français. J’ai expliqué que mon français, comme mon espagnol, était suffisant pour demander des directions dans la rue et commander un repas. Depuis cette première rencontre, nous sommes restés en contact et continuons nos discussions concernant les héritages du colonialisme et du développement postcolonial dans les Caraïbes. Nos connaissances communes de la géographie ont donné lieu à des échanges animés alors que nous explorions Saint-Domingue et, plus tard, Port-of-Spain.
I first met Audrey Pastel (born in 1989) at the 2024 Caribbean Urban Forum conference in the Dominican Republic. We were both part of a group of younger delegates who met frequently to deliberate on regional urban development, including hot topics such as the removal of colonial monuments in public spaces, democratic urban governance, and our shared observation on the lack of political leadership in fostering a sustainable urban agenda. Audrey expressed surprise upon discovering that I speak French. I explained that my French, similar to my Spanish, was sufficient for asking for directions in the street and ordering food on the menu. Since that initial meeting, we have stayed in touch and continue our discussions regarding the legacies of colonialism and postcolonial development on our spaces and lives in the Caribbean. Our shared knowledge of geography led to critical exchanges as we walked around Santo Domingo and, later, Port-of-Spain.
AS: Considering your background in both geography and urban planning, disciplines that are distinct yet interconnected, could you discuss the main distinctions and collaborative aspects you have noted in how these fields influence your academic research and developmental projects?
AP: Urban planning is about finding the best way to allow people to live well on a specific territory. You can describe what you see and make decisions to change it. Geography understands the differences of social realities, cultures, and ways of life. It is a way to understand how people live in a specific area. Most of the time, we can describe our work as urban planning management—how to organise? What kinds of methods for research and analysis? What tools can stakeholders apply to improve places? There are different kinds of urban planners. Some prefer to create something from “nothing” and what they imagine for a place. Some urban planners prefer to work on a place with people, their own imagination. They respect what people already imagine about a place. The urban planner in this category helps with the organisation of people’s imagination. For me, I always wanted to help people who are already improving their own way of life. The urban planner can enable people to use their own capacity, their known imagination and knowledge to address issues in their community.
You cannot do urban planning without geography because you have to work with the reality of people including knowledge of climate, population settlements and social organisation.
AS: When you moved from France to the Caribbean, what is one major thing you had to change about what you learned as a geographer and planner?
AP: Everything! When I was in Sorbonne Université in Paris, they were speaking a lot about “Le Grand Paris” in 2010. Many courses were about this phenomenon – how to organise a metropolis, how to develop transport inside a metropolis, and what kind of consequences we can have in the metropolis in France because of this. And when I asked them to do my Master’s study on “La Trenelle”, a self-built neighborhood in Martinique, they could not understand why I didn’t want to work on “Le Grand Paris” like everyone else. My mind was not focused on that kind of model. It was not the only model that stimulated me. I had to explain to my teachers that I really wanted to work in Martinique, but they did not have much capacity to understand “overseas departments.” They did not have the knowledge about the specificities. My knowledge about city models was about Paris but not Fort-de-France. Some things were useful, but they were not of the Caribbean. There was no school for urban planning in Martinique. So, most of the scholars who studied the field, studied from outside.
AS: This narrative poignantly exposes the dynamics of empire through its deliberate oversights. Despite being administrative French departments, Martinique and Guadeloupe are marginalised within established academic disciplines. This exclusion of knowledge perpetuates an alienation of these populations, even within the imperial center. The term “overseas” itself functions as a designation of “otherness.”
AP: French students have very limited knowledge of “overseas.” Everything taught in school does not cover many territories. This is why we now have consultants who have little knowledge about territories outside of “Metropolitan France” but are given contracts to plan and manage their spaces. If you do not privately research overseas territories, you will never learn about them in France.
This is why geography is really important, otherwise you can make urban planning disconnected. Sometimes, people plan, design and produce societies really far removed from the reality on the ground. Climate, population, society, and geomorphology are all important to know how to adapt your way of thinking and working in the Caribbean.
AS: We walked around like Antillean flâneurs note-taking through Woodbrook, St. James, and Belmont. This allowed us to observe the physical and social infrastructure of urban space. We were imagining sustainable ways youth could inhabit public spaces. How do youth feature in public spaces in Fort-de-France, Martinique?
AP: First of all, there are very few spaces created to allow people to meet and socialise in public spaces. A lot of activities are relegated to the household to prohibit social protest and resistance, or for security reasons. In Martinique, some young people congregate in gas stations because public spaces are few and far apart. The car has a large place in the Martinican way of life and space. Young people have also been bringing chairs and sofas to public spaces to engage each other. They meet their own needs. If you do not have a lot of money you do not go to restaurants, cinema and shopping stores to socialise.
AS: Martinique’s history is marked by recurring protests and unresolved issues.
AP: Chlordecone, unemployment, poverty. For example, in terms of urban planning we have a lot of things to do. Unemployment is high in Martinique. It reaches 11% (or even 34% among young people). Some young people have few or no necessary qualifications. People are offered training “opportunities for them” to maintain lawns, to work as electricians and some other professions. But people have not been asking young people what they want to do. Moreover, without giving meaning to what we do, we cannot hope to mobilise young people over the long term.
AS: Focusing on your work on coastal erosion, what is the key message you want to convey to the public about this issue?
AP: When I started my PhD research I was focused on understanding the capacity of land management stakeholders on spatial restructuring islands to adapt to climate change. What kind of tools or methods are used and, if these methods and tools will be useful in the context of sea level rise and intensifying tropical cyclones? The crazy thing is I forgot that a major part of Caribbean history comes from colonial history! Colonisation has a big impact on the way to organise our island up to today. Legal statuses have evolved, some speak of a post-colonial situation. However, the relation of power remains the same between the metropolis (or mainland) and the so-called “overseas territories” and between the stakeholders themselves. So, when we talk about adapting to climate change, these aspects are essential to consider. They directly influence the strategies chosen and their implementation. This is not what I was searching for at first, but it is what I found.
Audrey Pastel: During your first visit to Martinique, what did you find unsettling?
Amílcar Sanatan: My single trip to Martinique, around 2008 with school friends, profoundly impacted me. Witnessing the island’s economy geared towards tourists and French expats was eye-opening. The most unsettling image was a van full of armed, white officers in the Gendarmerie patrolling Fort-de-France. Their presence, wordless yet potent, maintained order. Everyone understood their place. Tourists felt secure, while young Martiniquan men, hustling near ferries and shopping centers, retreated to the shade. I felt like I was in a simulation. The culture of the everyday people felt subterranean. Tour guides pretended as if poverty did not exist. People you had conversations with, rather quickly, put down any talk of independence from France.
I was also surprised at the level of public sexual harassment. Youth unemployment was a driver for social problems. One night, we heard gun shots and people in our small delegation had to run for cover. This was a lot to hold. While I hadn’t yet read Fanon, Aimé Césaire and Jacques Roumain’s works significantly shaped my understanding. At the same time, I was young and fly. I enjoyed sitting down in cafés, talking to Martiniquan girls who were happy to talk about Trinidad, and attending dancehall nights like “Passa Passa” in clubs. Even at that time, when we met with other youth, they all spoke about going to university or uniting with family in France. Opportunity, for them, was outside of Martinique. That was a very familiar Caribbean story.
