It’s that time of the year again. Ever since moving to Buenos Aires six and a half years ago, I’ve been visiting home every summer vacation I had. That is, except for one year when I decided to stay and the two years of the pandemic that followed that one. But this year, I’m back, with an architecture degree in hand. Unlike the hot and humid weather, I did not expect the constant on-again-off-again rain that welcomed me. Although, definitely not complaining, considering I’m a fan of gloomy, gray-cloud-covered, rainy days. There is beauty all around on such days. The rain produces a satisfying and calming sound when falling into the puddles of its creation—filling the air with that unmistakable earthy smell. And as the sun returns after the 2-minute downpour, water droplets glisten on the leaves. Almost as if the plants were smiling at you, showing their contentment. Not to mention, those gray clouds are a pleasing contrast to my island’s beautifully bright and varied colors. Colors I had always longed to use in my designs but felt restricted from doing so by studio professors. As others might relate, studying architecture introduces a lens through which to view the world. Buildings you have always passed by, used, and explored, now look different. You start seeing them through this added lens and begin to wonder, question, or even criticize. I noticed the presence of my lens a couple of years into my studies. One of those summer vacations, as I wandered the island, I began to question the design choices of the buildings that surrounded me. Now, with some recent developments happening around the city center, I feel the urge to put my thoughts into writing. Two of these developments, in particular, caught my attention. One of them is under construction, and the other one’s master plan was recently presented and approved. I became more critical with each new piece of information I discovered on these projects. Critical and upset. Upset that my country had fallen victim to the oh-so-wonderful architecture that dominates the world nowadays. And critical of the design, the need for it, the approach taken, and what it would imply for our historic inner city.

Before moving on to my criticism of these questionable projects (to put it nicely), it’s necessary to give context and a preamble to the city in question; Willemstad, Curaçao. If that name sounds familiar, it may be because of our world-famous liqueur, Blue Curaçao.¹ This 444 square kilometer island, with its 151.066 inhabitants,² lies in the southern part of the Caribbean Sea. Between the islands of Aruba (to the west) and Bonaire (to the east). Also known as the ABC islands. Before being “discovered” by the Spanish explorer Alonso de Ojeda in 1499, the Caquetíos occupied Curaçao. They had come from the South American mainland to this previously uninhabited island and were later brought to Hispaniola by the Spaniards (circa 1515) to work in mines. The Spaniards had left the island almost uninhabited after declaring Aruba, Bonaire, and Curaçao “islas inútiles” (useless islands). It wasn’t until 1634 that the Dutch West India Company (WIC) attacked the island and took it over from the Spaniards. The Dutch were particularly interested in the country’s harbor, a relatively uncommon one in the western world. The harbor in question, the St. Anna Bay, is a deep, natural channel that divides the city of Willemstad in two. It’s connected to the Caribbean sea in the south and opens up into the Schottegat, a wide and deep lagoon, in the north. Here, at the entrance of St. Anna Bay, the Dutch settled, built their fort, and commenced their slave trade.³ By 1674, they made Curaçao a free port, hoping to stimulate the economy. Many consider the arrival of the Dutch as the beginning of the history of Curaçao, mainly demographic and linguistic. With the first reference to our language Papiamentu dating back to the late 17th century. Curaçao remained under Dutch control for many years since then. It ceased to be a colony in 1954; instead, it became the Netherlands Antilles, along with Aruba, Bonaire, Saba, St. Eustatius, and St. Maarten. The Netherlands Antilles lasted until October 2010, when it was dismantled, and Curaçao became an autonomous country within the Dutch Kingdom. The Dutch, no doubt, left a lasting impact on the country, the people, and its future. However, the focus of this essay remains on the architectural aspects.

As one can imagine, the architecture of Curaçao was highly influenced by the different groups of people that have passed through our island. The historic area of Willemstad⁴ comprises four districts (Punda, Otrobanda, Pietermaai, and Scharloo) and covers an area of 190 ha.⁵ The first one of these districts to have been developed was Punda, roughly translating to ‘point’ in English due to its shape and location. Knowing that the Spaniards wouldn’t easily give up the island and would attempt to reconquer it, they constructed a provisional defense building here, which was soon after built in stone.⁶ Later called the Fort Amsterdam. The island’s governor resided in this fort, and it is also where the WIC’s offices and warehouses were located. In addition to the deep lagoon of Schottegat, there is also a shallow water inlet, the Waaigat, running east from St. Anna Bay. By 1639, they had built a wall from the fort up to this body of water, thus creating an enclosed and protected terrain. All who wished to settle on the island could build their homes within this area. The buildings by these settlers followed Dutch customs: densely built houses with gable roofs alongside narrow streets in an orthogonal grid pattern. Punda served both a residential and commercial function during the first two centuries.⁷ Over time, this has changed to being only commercial. 

The rapid population growth in Punda, restricted by the town walls, led to the birth of Otrobanda, which translates to ‘the other side’ (of St. Anna Bay) at the beginning of the 18th century. Not being restricted by a rampart, this side adopted an unplanned structure with detached buildings on spacious lots that resembled plantation houses. Later on, this side “partly developed into a neighborhood for the working class with more density and small alleys.”⁸ Near the end of the same century, Otrobanda covered more surface and had more buildings and inhabitants than Punda.

By the 1860s, the town wall in Punda was demolished. The city could then further develop to the east, towards the third district: Pietermaai. Named after the Brazilian plantation owner Pieter de Mey.⁹ At first, the richly decorated, colorful, neoclassical villas¹⁰ in this linear development were built along the coastline and inhabited by wealthy shipmasters, traders, administrators, and Sephardic Jews.¹¹ The demolition of the town walls caused a rise in popularity for Pietermaai, which led to dwellings being more grouped together. 

Scharloo¹² was among the first 9 plantations formed by the farmers sent to Curaçao in 1634. Things didn’t go as planned,¹³ and the land was divided into plots for residential use around 1729.¹⁴ Although this area was already inhabited by the 18th century,¹⁵ it became fully developed into a residential area after a hurricane struck the coast of Pietermaai in 1877.¹⁶ Scharloo was mainly inhabited by wealthy Sephardic Jews who owned shops in Punda. Around the 1960s, people began leaving this area to build houses in other parts of the island. The maintenance cost had increased for these detached and luxurious dwellings, and the Shell company’s arrival in 1915¹⁷ made it difficult to find the many servants necessary to run the household.¹⁸

On December 4th, 1997, Willemstad became a UNESCO World Heritage Site for its Outstanding Universal Value. In the four districts of the historic inner city, Curaçao has a whopping 734 listed monuments.¹⁹ Besides those, 128 other buildings support the city’s historic character. The heritage site covers 86 hectares within the core area and is surrounded by 87 hectares of a buffer zone. There’s a lack of accessible information on which monuments are owned by the government or other government-affiliated organizations. There is also a lack of information on which monuments (or how many) are yet to be restored. These 734 buildings are more or less 50% of all the buildings in the city, and approximately 90% are privately owned, according to Curaçao Tourist Board.²⁰ Ironically, while walking around the city during the last open monuments day organized in celebration of 25 years on the UNESCO World Heritage List, I noticed several monuments closed down due to their state of disrepair.²¹ An open monuments day with closed-off, inaccessible buildings. That is, only in the district of Otrobanda. Pietermaai, a quite touristic district with offices and plenty of nightlife options, has buildings in much better condition. Not to mention Punda, which, to this day, has maintained its commercial function. Perhaps one positive thing the Dutch left behind was the two or three-story buildings in Punda with narrow paths between them. Where one can walk in the shaded area created by these buildings. Protected from the year-long warm temperatures and burning sun. Most certainly a better experience for the pedestrian when compared to the lack of walkable infrastructure on many other parts of the island. 

Now that you have been introduced to and received enough context on the history and architecture of Willemstad, we can move on to the development that led me to write this essay in the first place; The Wharf Curaçao. A project near the edge of St. Anna Bay, at the entrance of Waaigat, and on a lot belonging to the Curaçao Ports Authority (CPA).²² With “the mission in mind of putting the waterfront to work for the social and economic benefit of the island,”²³ CPA developed a master plan to serve as a guiding document for the development of their waterfront assets. Their proposal mentions several guidelines, including enhancing “connectivity to Punda, Pietermaai, Scharloo and [improving] public access to the Waaigat area”²⁴ and “nurturing continued revitalization of Willemstad and increasing residential and visitor populations in the downtown center.”²⁵ The development should also follow all the zoning regulations since the area to be developed falls within the buffer zone of the UNESCO World Heritage Site. CPA will apply a Lease and Concession contract with the developer, and although they proposed a design in their master plan document (a much more applicable one, if I may say), it only serves as a guide. Putting my aforementioned lens to good use, I can’t help but question if the final design, currently under construction, delivers on the guidelines described in CPA’s master plan. 

While the guidelines propose increasing and improving public access to the Waaigat area by creating a new waterfront esplanade, the adopted design by Architect Den Heijer N.V. leaves the public space untouched and uninviting. The brochure, with its many floor plans, makes it clear that it is rather nonexistent. Their focus lies instead in providing space (an open-air lounge) for “high quality socialising”²⁶ on the complex’s private roof garden for the residents. How thoughtful and inclusive of them. Doing everything they can to ensure “metropolitan luxury”²⁷ to the residents by separating the public from them with their private elevators, concierge, and, as they put it, “multiple-secured access”. In other words, multiple ways of separating yourself from the rest. 

During the nomination stage in 1995 for UNESCO World Heritage, the government of Curaçao provided zoning regulations for the conservation area in its Island Development Plan (EOP).²⁸ For the inner city, section 4 of this plan indicates that buildings should be made predominantly of brick, plastered, and painted. Roof shapes should also be maintained and be covered with tiles, painted roof sheets, or high-quality materials. None of these are applied in the design for The Wharf. Though the EOP lacks specific clarification on what is and isn’t allowed and only gives a vague criterion by saying that new developments should be consistent with the existing urban fabric and architecture. Unsurprisingly, there can also be deviations from this EOP on a case-to-case basis. From a personal point of view, I don’t see the point in having an Island Development Plan, that hasn’t been updated since 1995, dictating the requirements that new developments should meet if we’re still allowing developments to deviate from it. Furthermore, I wonder, how does one decide which cases are allowed to deviate from the EOP in the first place? Does it depend on whether the new developments are improving the area for the locals? Or does it depend on who’s benefiting/profiting from it? 

Not too long ago, a case against the Ministry of Traffic, Transport and Spatial Planning, whose Department of Urban Planning (ROP) is in charge of reviewing new developments, was initiated by Fundashon Pro Monumento (ProMo).²⁹ Their criticism stated that the small scale, typical for the district, gets lost with the new building. The developer’s defense claimed that the project had already been modified accordingly to fit the area and that they incorporated spaces in between the towers to allow the historical buildings behind them to be seen from across the St. Anna Bay. They finished by saying that this particular lot (even though it’s in the buffer zone) didn’t have any historic, protected, and recognizable building pattern and that ProMo was too late to speak up.³⁰ 

Although the lot itself doesn’t have any historical value (besides being an important event place for our yearly carnival celebrations), the relation of a white, rectangular box next to our island’s world-famous Dutch colonial facade, no doubt has a visual impact. Since 1817, they prohibited all buildings in the historic center from having a white finish. How is it possible that our zoning regulation for the inner city, made specifically to protect our UNESCO World Heritage Site’s value, falls short of actually regulating new constructions to ensure they respect and enhance this area? Curaçao Ports Authority can’t be entirely blamed or held accountable for any of this. Not exactly. They receive a monthly payment for the use of their asset but have nothing to do with the project itself or the decisions taken. The blame goes mainly to the Department of Urban Planning for providing the building permit.

On the other hand, one should question if CPA’s decision to not be involved in the project itself was the right one to begin with. When focusing only on the building design included in CPA’s master plan, one could argue that it’s much more fitting than The Wharf’s design and, at least based on my understanding of the zoning regulations, more according to the Island Development Plan as well. For a project whose guiding principles include highlighting the uniqueness of the neighborhoods in the historic inner city and encouraging visitors and residents to explore, connect, and learn about Curaçao through the built environment, they sure knew how to design a building complex that does quite the opposite. From high-end apartments and a hotel³¹ to a private swimming pool, private roof garden, private open-air lounge, private parking, and private elevators, this building will only succeed at two things. It will succeed at increasing empty-standing houses around the island that are too expensive for those who need them most. On the other hand, it will succeed at nurturing further gentrification within the historic inner city instead of revitalizing it for locals. 

Research conducted by the Central Bureau of Statistics revealed that the housing market in Curaçao is facing a shortage of 7.068 homes³² for those with an income of less than ANG 3.000 per month.³³ Meanwhile, for those with an income above ANG 3.000, there is a housing surplus of 377 homes. When looking at their market value, there is a shortage of 7.125 houses with a value of less than ANG 250.000 compared to a surplus of 434 houses with a value higher than ANG 250.000. In 2016, 51% of those looking for a house lived on a monthly income of ANG 2.000 or less.³⁴ Now, can you guess the prices for the apartments in this complex? The least expensive apartments, the so-called City Apartments totaling 75 square meters of living space with the least favorable view of the whole complex and resembling a failed attempt at the Villa Savoye, cost USD 302.000. Unfortunately, the penthouse’s price was not included, but the most expensive apartment price I could find, totaling 213 square meters, costs USD 1.132.000.³⁵ The question then is, with about 8.000 people³⁶ registered on a waiting list at Fundashon Kas Popular (FKP)³⁷ to be considered for social housing, why is the Curaçao government allowing the building of 35 high-end apartments? Especially when we consider the fact that, for the housing market of this price range, we have 857 empty-standing homes on the island.³⁸ Perhaps, and this is just my 2 cents, instead of building for the wealthy few, the objective of revitalizing and increasing the residential population in downtown Willemstad would be better achieved by focusing on the housing market with higher (and more pressing) needs. But I guess, when there’s a lack of affordable housing, building high-end apartments is the solution. The government’s commitment to not be involved in regulating the developments in this area puts working-class residents’ survival in the inner city in jeopardy. 

For a small group of people, predominantly Dutch, the developments in the city center represent a utopian situation. One that offers investment opportunities and, most importantly, generates profit. It’s a utopian situation that is boosted by the government prioritizing such developments from Dutch investors as opposed to building for the local working-class family. On the other hand, these developments have negative implications for many local people, the everyday users. Gentrification in the four districts of Willemstad is increasingly becoming an issue. In the case of Punda and Pietermaai, gentrification is already at an advanced stage, while in Scharloo and Otrobanda, not as much. Albeit soon may very well reach an advanced stage. This gentrification is led by the high maintenance costs of monuments and Curaçao’s increasing focus on tourism in the city center. Owners of these monuments opt to turn their properties into high-end apartments for short-term rentals for tourists and (Dutch) exchange students. Thus yielding more profits and sufficiently covering preservation costs. Even though these initiatives allow for the preservation of the heritage, they also result in the displacement of locals. At the beginning of 1990, Pietermaai lay in ruins.³⁹ Several developers acquired the properties in this neighborhood and redeveloped them. Between 1993 and 2017, the total amount of investments in this area was around USD 69 to 74 million.⁴⁰ Nowadays, this district is one of the main tourist attractions, and most monuments are used for nightlife activities. Pretty much transforming Pietermaai into a tourist bubble. Dutch people who, compared to locals, have a more favorable exchange rate between the Euro and the Guilder, find it easier to acquire properties. The products they offer are also more attractive to the Dutch population on the island, which means more tourists and temporary foreign workers come to this area. 

Consequently, if they hadn’t already been chased away due to increased rent, the local residents start to feel a sense of “out-of-placeness”⁴¹ in their neighborhood. A similar situation occurs in Scharloo, where The Wharf Curaçao is located. Due to its bad reputation and “ghetto” image, this district wasn’t as much a victim of tourism-led gentrification compared to the others. Now, with this (and other) new developments, it’s only a matter of time. In Scharloo, the worst part is that it’s not only foreign gentrifiers at work. In contrast to other neighborhoods, the government plays an even more active role in the gentrification of this district.⁴² By naming Scharloo a “Creative City”, they seek to revert its historically bad reputation and incentivize people to enter this area. It’s more than evident that this initiative goes at the expense of low-income residents and only leads to more gentrification by middle and high-class people. Developments in Pietermaai, Punda, and Scharloo, only reinforce the gentrification process by leading to more developments happening in these districts when other property owners realize their property value is increasing. One man’s utopia is another man’s dystopia. 

On the same line as The Wharf project, on the other end of Punda, another large-scale development is happening. Algemeen Pensioenfonds van Curaçao (APC) developed a master plan for where the Plaza Hotel resides.⁴³ A news article in Curaçao Nu⁴⁴ states that the new design will have an independent identity but will respect the historical surroundings in terms of scale and orientation. If I’m being honest, I don’t quite see that when looking at their renders. Don’t get me wrong, it’s great that our island is going through a phase of development and improvement. The issue is when these developments create a sense of alienation for the inhabitants of these neighborhoods and cause them to leave their homes. The government, like architects, must respond to the needs of the country and its citizens. 

It’s easy to say who should be in charge of renovating and taking care of the 800+ listed monumental buildings in the historic inner city. Or what uses they should have. Or who should own them in the first place. Or even what type of renovations and new projects should be implemented in downtown Willemstad. The sad reality is that, in a post-colonial country that in many ways still depends on its colonizers and whose economy is easily (and drastically) affected by events such as the covid-19 pandemic⁴⁵ or political issues such as the one between the US and Venezuela,⁴⁶ having the means to take care of renovations and new developments while also focusing on other responsibilities is not easy. Nonetheless, we do have a duty to protect our Outstanding Universal Value (OUV). Islands with a focus on tourism are plenty in the Caribbean. An attractive, well-preserved, historically rich inner city listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site can be that added bonus to attract tourists to our island and set us apart from the rest. Any development that risks putting our OUV in jeopardy is not worth pursuing. Though the Island Development Plan proposes the re-emergence of residential uses in downtown Willemstad, the government should better control that these projects don’t only cater to tourists, short-term rentals, or middle and high-class populations. 

Unfortunately, The Wharf Curaçao and APC’s master plan are not the only projects in close vicinity to this area (or even inside the historic inner city). There are more happening and their focus, as expected, is either on tourism or mid to high-income groups, with designs and interventions that contradict their supposed objectives of doing it for the locals. Although they say they’re creating jobs for the people of Curaçao, the only jobs they offer are either in construction (lasting until the building is completed) or in hospitality and tourist-serving positions. For the numerous young people leaving the island yearly to study in the Netherlands, opportunities for returning and working on the island are becoming less. Unless we all focus our careers on serving the wealthy Europeans visiting and buying properties on our islands instead. 

As an architect, you ought to be an optimist. So I remain hopeful these projects, despite my dislike towards them, do end up improving our city and add value. Not only for the rich few but for locals as well. Only time will tell if this will be the case. However, I’m sure that similar to how our ancestors have appropriated a place they were dragged to, our people today will do the same once these constructions are complete. After all, Willemstad is ours. It’s our listed UNESCO World Heritage, and we will remain proud of it. We will remain users of it. And we will continue bragging about its beauty. 

Wanting to be an architect that focuses on the critical-theoretical side of architecture, I’m pleased to have acquired my lens. Was there a better way of using this lens and further developing it other than turning it right onto my hometown? I don’t pretend to tell anyone what or how they should do things. After all, every owner has the right to decide what kind of project and design they want. I can only hope this essay serves as a catalyst for conversations on protecting our UNESCO World Heritage Site and leads more people, particularly those in decision-making positions, to question whether the projects we approve serve the greater good of our country’s development. Whether they are benefiting the local people first and not only the tourists. And whether it’s time to start requiring a license for architects to build on the island, thus ensuring growth opportunities go to those living and working in Curaçao instead of foreigners. Unfortunately, we locals (very) rarely have the financial means to invest in such sizable developments. But if we continue handing these opportunities for growth to those whose only goal is to expand their fortune, we will only limit our local people from thriving. While concurrently chasing them away from places they have always considered their own. It’s time for the government to take an active role in ensuring the survival of the working-class people in downtown Willemstad. It may also be time for me to take an active role in gentrification resistance for my community. 

A very special shoutout and thank you to Luis Anibal Villegas who took the time to review this essay and provide helpful comments, which helped improve my writing and this essay.

Notes

1. Blue Curaçao, or Curaçao Liqueur, is a naturally colorless liqueur made from dried peels of the Laraha citrus. This fruit originated from orange trees brought to Curaçao from Spain in the 16th century. Although the oranges did not thrive in the island’s climate, they evolved to become a more bitter version with aromatic peels. The name Laraha originated from the word ‘laranja’, meaning orange in Portuguese. _{go back→}

2. This was the population of Curaçao on January 1st, 2022 according to the Central Bureau of Statistics Curaçao. _{go back→}

3. Beginning in the mid-17th century, the Dutch brought people from West Africa to Willemstad and, from there, sold them to the rest of the countries in this area. The first ship, the ‘Bontekoe’, arrived in 1657 with 191 Africans. They continued this until the beginning of the 19th century. With the revolt occurring in 1795 and the abolition in 1863. Although the slaves were brought to Curaçao, most of them at the beginning of WIC’s slave trade, between 1650 and 1700, ended up in Spanish colonies. After that, they also kept slaves in Curaçao to work in construction, on farms, and as domestic help. _{go back→}

4. Because this essay focuses on the architecture and developments within the historic inner city, I will limit my description of the island’s architecture to this area. _{go back→}

5. Gislainne Maria, “Willemstad: A Vibrant UNESCO World Heritage Site,” Curaçao Tourist Board, December 1, 2022, https://news.curacao.com/willemstad-a-vibrant-unesco-world-heritage-site/. _{go back→}

6. Wim E. Renkema, “De oudste kaarten van Punda (Willemstad) op Curaçao,” Caert-Thresoor, 35ste Jaargang, nr. 2 (2016): 48. _{go back→}

7. Marvin T.G. Thomasia, “The heart of the people; A study looking at gentrification processes in the historic inner-city of Willemstad, Curacao” (Master thesis, Radboud University, 2019), 23. _{go back→}

8. Gislainne Maria, “Willemstad: A Vibrant UNESCO World Heritage Site,” Curaçao Tourist Board, December 1, 2022, https://news.curacao.com/willemstad-a-vibrant-unesco-world-heritage-site/. _{go back→}

9. Marvin T.G. Thomasia, “The heart of the people; A study looking at gentrification processes in the historic inner-city of Willemstad, Curacao” (Master thesis, Radboud University, 2019), 25. _{go back→}

10. In 1817 the white lime finish was prohibited, and the colorful buildings had become a local tradition. The reason behind this prohibition was to protect the eyesight from glare. Prior to the neoclassical style, in the 18th century, buildings were built in the so-called Curaçao Baroque, characterized by its curved lines. Later on, the curved gables were replaced by straight ones, which can be seen around the districts of Otrobanda and Pietermaai. _{go back→}

11. The first Jewish immigrants arrived in Curaçao from Amsterdam after fleeing Spain and Portugal. Here, they founded the Mikvé Israel community. The Mikvé Israel-Emanuel Synagogue (1732) in Punda is the oldest synagogue in continuous use in the Americas. _{go back→}

12. The name Scharloo consists of two words; namely ‘schaar’ meaning shore and ‘loo’ meaning a small wood or a lawn. _{go back→}

13. Within time, many farmers had either joined the army or left the island. Scharloo was repurposed for residential use because it was unsuitable and infertile for agriculture. _{go back→}

14. Pauline Pruneti Winkel, “Scharloo: A nineteenth century quarter of Willemstad, Curaçao: historical architecture and its background” (Doctoral thesis, Delft University of Technology, 1987): 6. _{go back→}

15. According to the previously referenced doctoral thesis by Pauline Pruneti Winkel, in 1819 Scharloo had 57 houses, 104 huts with 703 inhabitants. Punda had 267 houses with 3042 inhabitants. Otrobanda had 367 houses with 3430 inhabitants. And Pietermaai had 298 houses with 2334 inhabitants. _{go back→}

16. Astrid Aarsen, “Werelderfgoed En Dan? Een Perspectief Vanuit De Alledaagse Praktijk Van Willemstad En Paramaribo,” Bulletin KNOB 108 (3) (June 2009): 103, https://doi.org/10.7480/knob.108.2009.3.158. _{go back→}

17. In the region of Maracaibo, Venezuela, oil was discovered in the early 20th century. The Royal Dutch Shell established the refinery near the Schottegat lagoon after buying the 130-hectare plantation. They ran the refinery until transferring ownership to the island’s government in 1985. The refinery also led to more working-class dwellings in the vicinity of Otrobanda and Scharloo, and due to new job opportunities, the agriculture community largely disappeared. Thus we relied (still do) heavily on imports even though we can grow our own food. _{go back→}

18. Pauline Pruneti Winkel, “Scharloo: A nineteenth century quarter of Willemstad, Curaçao: historical architecture and its background” (Doctoral thesis, Delft University of Technology, 1987): 10. _{go back→}

19. Curaçao Monuments, https://curacaomonuments.org/ _{go back→}

20. Gislainne Maria, “Willemstad: A Vibrant UNESCO World Heritage Site,” Curaçao Tourist Board, December 1, 2022, https://news.curacao.com/willemstad-a-vibrant-unesco-world-heritage-site/. _{go back→}

21. It’s crucial to note that finance greatly influences renovation works. This is why the government offers tax incentives to owners of listed monuments. _{go back→}

22. The Curaçao Ports Authority (CPA) is a limited liability company owned by the government (94% share) and by Algemeen Pensioenfonds van Curaçao (6% share). They manage all the ports on the island, owning most of the wharves and properties adjacent to the harbor. Some of these properties are leased to private operators (as is the case with The Wharf project). CPA has two subsidiaries: KTK Tugs (which provides tug assistance) and Curaçao Pilots Organization (which offers pilotage services for entering/leaving the harbor). They also earn money from the government having to pay taxes for each (cruise ship) tourist that passes through their land. Some of the lots owned by CPA were acquired from the government seeking to settle debts accumulated from their use of CPA’s services. Since the US embargo on Venezuela in 2017, our oil refinery has had to stop functioning. Because of this, CPA’s primary income, the entrance and exit of ships going to the refinery, has been reduced by around 80%. This could explain their reason for wanting to diversify their portfolio by leasing their waterfront assets. _{go back→}

23. St. Anna Bay & Waaigat, http://curports.com/port-development/st-anna-bay-waaigat/ _{go back→}

24. “Waaigat Development Guidelines,” Curaçao Ports Authority, 10. _{go back→}

25. “Waaigat Development Guidelines,” Curaçao Ports Authority, 10. _{go back→}

26. Description of the private roof garden included in the previously cited brochure. _{go back→}

27. The Wharf Curaçao, https://thewharfcuracao.com/ _{go back→}

28. A.H. Speckens, L. Veldpaus, B.J.F. Colenbrander, A.R. Pereira Roders, “Outstanding universal value vs zoning regulations: Willemstad as case-study,” In Measuring Heritage Conservation Performance, eds. S. M. Zancheti, & K. Similä (Olinda & Rome: CECI and ICCROM, 2012), 8. _{go back→}

29. Fundashon Pro Monumento (ProMo) is a private foundation that defends monuments at risk of getting lost. They give lectures, create educational materials, and organize events such as the Open Monument where one can enter monuments that are normally closed-off from the public. _{go back→}

30. “The Wharf past wel bij omgeving,” Antilliaans Dagblad, November 19, 2021, https://antilliaansdagblad.com/nieuws-menu/24712-the-wharf-past-wel-bij-omgeving. _{go back→}

31. Phase 2 of the project will include 30 additional apartments and a hotel. _{go back→}

32. “Woningtekort op Curaçao,” Central Bureau of Statistics (May 2020), 11. _{go back→}

33. The exchange rate between our national currency, the Antillean Guilder, and the US Dollar has a selling rate of 1 USD = ANG 1.82. This rate is pretty much fixed. To compare with other common currencies, you can visit the official website of the Central Bank; https://www.centralbank.cw/. _{go back→}

34. Marvin T.G. Thomasia, “The heart of the people; A study looking at gentrification processes in the historic inner-city of Willemstad, Curacao” (Master thesis, Radboud University, 2019), 32. _{go back→}

35. This information was gathered from the brochure and pricelist sent to me by the realtors. Because it is not publicly available, I’m choosing not to include a direct link to it in this essay. If interested, one can request it via The Wharf Curaçao website (https://thewharfcuracao.com/) by filling in the form. _{go back→}

36. “Woningtekort op Curaçao,” Central Bureau of Statistics (May 2020), 12. _{go back→}

37. Fundashon Kas Popular (FKP) is in charge of providing social housing on the island. They not only focus on social rental homes but also build owner-occupied dwellings and assist low-income groups in building their own house. Because of their operating deficit, from the government not providing subsidies (the government owed FKP ANG 100M in 2018), they focus more on constructing owner-occupied houses to generate funds. At one point in history, they were active in providing social housing in the inner city. Nowadays, they are choosing to focus elsewhere instead. They even held an auction last year to sell some of their monuments in the city. _{go back→}

38. “Woningtekort op Curaçao,” Central Bureau of Statistics (May 2020), 15. _{go back→}

39. Marvin T.G. Thomasia, “The heart of the people; A study looking at gentrification processes in the historic inner-city of Willemstad, Curacao” (Master thesis, Radboud University, 2019), 62. _{go back→}

40. Marvin T.G. Thomasia, “The heart of the people; A study looking at gentrification processes in the historic inner-city of Willemstad, Curacao” (Master thesis, Radboud University, 2019), 62. _{go back→}

41. Marvin T.G. Thomasia, “The heart of the people; A study looking at gentrification processes in the historic inner-city of Willemstad, Curacao” (Master thesis, Radboud University, 2019), 70. _{go back→}

42. Marvin T.G. Thomasia, “The heart of the people; A study looking at gentrification processes in the historic inner-city of Willemstad, Curacao” (Master thesis, Radboud University, 2019), 81. _{go back→}

43. During an auction in 2020, APC, a pension fund, bought the former Plaza Hotel for about ANG 6.3 million. By then, the hotel had been abandoned for some years already. Due to its deteriorated state, they will demolish it and build a new, modern-looking construction. A design that looks pretty much the same as many student projects I have seen during my architecture studies in Buenos Aires. _{go back→}

44. “Pensioenfonds APC laat zien welke richting het gebied rond Plaza Waterfort eruit gaat zien,” Curaçao Nu, December 2, 2022, https://curacao.nu/pensioenfonds-apc-laat-zien-welke-richting-het-gebied-rond-plaza-waterfort-eruit-gaat-zien/. _{go back→}

45. According to the monthly and annual reports from Curaçao Tourist Board, Curaçao welcomed 1.293.011 visitors in 2019, bringing the total economic impact from tourism to USD 1.2 billion. In 2020, we had a total of 436.242 visitors with an economic impact of USD 579 million. Last year, in 2022, there were 1.034.220 visitors. The economic impact for 2022 is still unknown, but the number of tourists and total stayover nights is similar to 2019 (fewer visitors yet more stayover nights than 2019). _{go back→}

46. In 2017, the US imposed an embargo on Venezuela. The Netherlands, supporting this decision and wanting Curaçao to set up a humanitarian hub, caused Venezuela to close its borders with the ABC islands. Prior to 2017, exports of gold, jewelry, diamonds, refined petroleum, and other oil derivatives were our primary income. The raw material came from Venezuela and went through its process on the island, whatever it may be, before being exported. In 2017, these products totaled about 90% of Curaçao’s exports, which would translate to around USD 1.17B. In 2020, that number was a mere USD 64.7M. That is a decrease of 94.5%. Not to mention how we also relied quite a lot on the import of fruits and vegetables that came by boat every morning from Venezuela to be sold at the city’s famous floating fruit market. _{go back→}