From ‘poor devil’ to middle class? Navigating resettlement and (in)formal reterritorialisation under COVID-19

From ‘poor devil’ to middle class? Navigating resettlement and (in)formal reterritorialisation under COVID-19

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Written by:

José Rafael Nunez Collado

First Published:

21 Jan 2025, 11:14 am

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From ‘poor devil’ to middle class? Navigating resettlement and (in)formal reterritorialisation under COVID-19

Years after the peaks of the COVID-19 pandemic, its impacts on urban spaces are becoming clearer. Much has been written about how COVID-19 devastated informal settlements in the Global South, where higher infection and mortality rates reflected pre-existing vulnerabilities. Yet, one critical story remains largely untold: how the pandemic unfolded in resettlement sites—spaces designed to rehouse residents from informal settlements. These sites often promise safety, stability, and upward mobility but can simultaneously perpetuate long-term vulnerabilities.

In Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic, the resettlement site La Nueva Barquita offers a good opportunity to investigate these issues. Built in 2016 to rehouse over 7,000 residents from the flood-prone informal settlement La Barquita (Figure 1), the community has over 1,600 modern apartments, a high school, a hospital, sports facilities, and public spaces—amenities unavailable in the former settlement. With its clean streets and formal infrastructure, La Nueva Barquita was promoted by the central government as a statement of progress and modernity (Figure 2).

In 2022, when the pandemic eased and travel restrictions were lifted, I returned to La Nueva Barquita, where I had previously conducted research, to understand how residents navigated the unprecedented health crisis.

For residents, the relocation to La Nueva Barquita carried an implicit promise: an aspirational leap from pobre diablo (poor devil) to clase media (middle class). This move, however, proved far more complex than simply transitioning to formal housing. Although residents celebrated improved living conditions, socioeconomic challenges persisted. Over time, many turned to “informal” practices—prohibited in the new housing estate—to adapt. For example, informal vending on balconies and public spaces became widespread. Moreover, lacking designated worship spaces, residents organised rooftop prayers and meetings, defying community norms. I describe these efforts as ‘(in)formal reterritorialisation’—processes that highlight the interplay between formal rules and informal adaptations in resettlement spaces.

However, the COVID-19 pandemic disrupted (in)formal reterritorialisation. Social distancing measures curtailed community gatherings and informal economic activities; mirroring challenges documented in informal settlements. In this scenario, residents nostalgically re-evaluated their previous informal settlement as a site of opportunity and solidarity. Paradoxically, the crisis also underscored La Nueva Barquita’s advantages. Residents viewed the resettlement site’s formal infrastructure—clean streets, spacious layouts, and reduced environmental hazards—as increasing protection against the virus (Figure 3). These perceptions enhanced their sense of place attachment and belonging.

The findings from La Nueva Barquita reveal the complex and often contradictory realities of resettlement. The transition from informal to formal housing is rarely seamless; it represents a profound socio-spatial rupture requiring creative adaptation. At the same time, the pandemic intensified these dynamics, disrupting fragile social and economic ties while reawakening aspirations for upward mobility. For residents, the journey to clase media became a negotiation of resilience, informed by both the challenges of their new environment and the opportunities it offered.

Ultimately, resettlement sites like La Nueva Barquita are critical laboratories for understanding urban transformation in the Global South. As these spaces straddle the boundary between formal and informal, they compel us to rethink how cities can accommodate aspirations, adapt to crises, and foster a sense of belonging in an ever-shifting urban landscape.

Figure 1. Typical structures in La Barquita before resettlement, constructed incrementally using recycled and found materials. The settlement, located on the floodplains of the Ozama River, was surrounded by waste and prone to environmental hazards. Source: Gobierno Danilo Medina.
Figure 1. Typical structures in La Barquita before resettlement, constructed incrementally using recycled and found materials. The settlement, located on the floodplains of the Ozama River, was surrounded by waste and prone to environmental hazards. Source: Gobierno Danilo Medina.


Figure 2. Typical apartment buildings in La Nueva Barquita, consisting of four-story walk-up structures. Each apartment ranges from 50 to 70 square meters, offering significantly more space compared to most slum resettlement schemes worldwide. Source: Gobierno Danilo Medina
Figure 2. Typical apartment buildings in La Nueva Barquita, consisting of four-story walk-up structures. Each apartment ranges from 50 to 70 square meters, offering significantly more space compared to most slum resettlement schemes worldwide. Source: Gobierno Danilo Medina.


Figure 3. Streetscape in La Nueva Barquita. Residents involved in this research viewed the enhanced built environment as a protective factor against the virus, prompting a reassessment of the resettlement site despite ongoing challenges with socio-economic mobility. Source: Author.
Figure 3. Typical apartment buildings in La Nueva Barquita, consisting of four-story walk-up structures. Each apartment ranges from 50 to 70 square meters, offering significantly more space compared to most slum resettlement schemes worldwide. Source: Gobierno Danilo Medina.


Read the full article on Urban Studies OnlineFirst here.