What makes a Bridge?

There are several bridges in the capital city of Mongolia but none has that presence and unchallenged claim to the name ‘the bridge’ but our Peace Bridge. Built in 1963 by Soviet structural engineers, this structure has been part of our urban landscape for 56 years, connecting the north and south sides of a river that runs through our city. In the last 10-15 years this ‘connection’ has become symbolic of a disconnect between our social structure too. The movement towards a city where our wealth gap is ever widening, inspiring films as well as slang that bring forward conversations about the rich and the poor, with terms such as 'over the bridge' or 'beyond the bridge' referencing to the wealthier residents in the south.

Since our transition to a market economy and a democratic society in 1991 and onwards the rapid changes we see in Mongolia, and especially in Ulaanbaatar has been incomparable to any other post-Soviet society. Well, this is my personal opinion, and I’m sure residents of cities such as Prague, Sofia, Kiev et al will have more to say if asked. However, from my experience of having lived here for the last 11 years, it has never failed to amaze me how fast the cycle of construction, movement, trends as well as, unfortunate in some cases, opinions and policies spin around us. One major change we see very much visibly is the level of traffic and congestion from cars on the road. And although this is a topic that has several volumes of text owed to it, one small aspect of it is my desire to talk about how bridges are in the mix.

I believe that Bridges should and does transcend the practicalities of what a bridge is supposed to deliver from an engineering perspective. The way Peace Bridge does that so beautifully shows what our other recent additions to the city does not, so painfully. In illustration, my frequent walks from home to work and vice versa over Peace Bridge turns a short 20 min walk into a joyful experience where I can feel like I’m part of a city, of a public space that recognize my movement as its living and breathing part. The fact that the pathway that run alongside the car road has no barriers or barricades creates a feeling of transparency and openness which strangely enough lends a sense of safety and connection more than fear and danger. Then there are the structures built along the bridge that are like majestic atriums, where people can stop for a rest, meet a date, take selfies or just wander around in and make their own. Even though many people perceive these atriums as abandoned and/or dirty spots, the fact that people walk over the bridge everyday at every waking hour prevents it from becoming a crime magnet or a place of neglect, and instead they become small hidden parts of a city that doesn’t have to belong to anyone. This juxtaposition of elements is one of the unexplainable ways design can make a space. And this space over Peace Bridge is one that I wish was studied more and attempted to, not replicate but, recreated in other parts of the city where more and more bridges are necessary.

In contrast, in an effort to combat traffic and congestion, and increase mobility, the couple of new bridges that were built in the last few years are of entirely different species. Questions of whether they have been successful in their primary concerns still remain open to discussion, however for the sake of talking about their design, their place in our urban landscape and their presence on a larger scale leaves much to be desired. When an overpass is built, that is exactly what it is. Some may have extra space for hard shoulders, some lanes for cyclists, and some very generous ones have pedestrian space albeit close off with tall metal fences. But when all the elements of a Bridge are stripped back to its bare minimum of just performing its most basic purpose, the entire experience of using that bridge/overpass becomes a little sad.

There is a massive difference between a Bridge and a bridge. In a literal sense the way it looks, performs and costs cannot be ignored, however in a figurative sense they can be used to also explain and contrast the way we as urban residents should look at how we want to communicate with each other. Do we want to live, work, play and grow in a place that does the bare minimum, seeking results, hastening our progress, or do we want to ask for and demand places of experience, joy, connection, awe and dreams? Essentially, we want to live in a humane city and be able to tell our stories and help build the next stories, be the bridges to our future.