Broadening the Urban Planning Repertoire with an ‘Arrival Infrastructures’ Perspective

In this article we propose an arrival infrastructures perspective in order to move beyond imaginaries of neighbourhoods as a ‘port of first entry’ that are deeply ingrained in urban planning discussions on migrants’ arrival situations. A focus on the socio-material infrastructures that shape an arrival situation highlights how such situations are located within, but equally transcend, the territories of neighbourhoods and other localities. Unpacking the infrastructuring work of a diversity of actors involved in the arrival process helps to understand how they emerge through time and how migrants construct their future pathways with the futuring possibilities at hand. These constructions occur along three dimensions: (1) Directionality refers to the engagements with the multiple places migrants have developed over time, (2) temporality questions imaginaries of permanent belonging, and (3) subjectivity directs attention to the diverse current and future subjectivities migrants carve out for themselves in situations of arrival. This perspective requires urban planners to trace, grasp and acknowledge the diverse geographies and socio-material infrastructures that shape arrival and the diverse forms of non-expert agency in the use, appropriation and fabrication of the built environment in which the arrival takes place.


Introduction
At the occasion of the 2016 International Architecture Exhibition of the Venice Biennale, the German pavilion presented the fascinating exhibition and catalogue entitled "Making Heimat: Germany, Arrival Country" (Schmal, Elser, & Scheuermann, 2016). The blurb at the back flap of the catalogue summarises: "Making Heimat investigates the urban, architectural, and social condi-tions of arrival cities in Germany" (Schmal et al., 2016). It was, we believe, the first time that a country's pavilion at the Architecture Biennale was specifically dedicated to the architectural and urban planning aspects of migrants' arrival. This, of course, needs to be situated against the background of the famous statement of the German chancellor Angela Merkel 'We can do this' (Wir schaffen das) at the start of the so-called European 'asylum crisis.' The latter was above all a crisis of European states in accommodating and literally creating infrastructures for new arrivals. Seen in this way, it comes as no surprise that Germany placed the spatial challenges faced by cities regarding the accommodation of hundreds of thousands of refugees at the top of the urban planning agenda.
In the text of the biennale catalogue, there is a remarkable moment in the conversation between urbanist Stephan Lanz and journalist Doug Saunders. The latter is widely known as the author of the influential book Arrival City (Saunders, 2011) and was also the main source of inspiration for the German Biennale project team. In the excerpt below, Lanz challenges Saunders' predominantly territorial perspective on urban arrival processes.
SL [Stephan Lanz]: In your book, you think of Arrival Cities very much as a territorial model. But don't you think that Arrival Cities sometimes also assume the form of networks or of imaginations? It's not always a territory. For example, if you look at the Poles who immigrated to German cities, they don't have their own ethnic neighbourhoods.
DS [Doug Saunders]: It varies. Some of them are distributed. The classic example of what you're talking about is the Filipinos from Luzon who mainly migrate for domestic service work. They work as servants in people's houses-nannies and cooks-and they're distributed across the middle-class parts of major cities in North America and Europe. But they form a virtual Arrival City. They're connected very closely by social media and they loan each other money but they have not created the physical spaces. It varies with the Poles. Here in Germany, they're more like the Filipinos. In Britain and Ireland though, they have formed districts. For an architecture exhibition, I think we want to stick to the ones that are classic physical forms. (Schmal, Elser, & Scheuermann, 2016, p. 52, emphasis

by the authors)
We do not want to review in detail the exhibition of 'Making Heimat' here, but we would like to focus on the implications of Saunders' claim. If architects and urban planners confine themselves from the start to 'classic physical forms,' such as (arrival) neighbourhoods, we fear that they will not be able to fully grasp the socio-spatial logics of arrival, or indeed "the urban, architectural, and social conditions of arrival cities" (Schmal et al., 2016; back flap) as announced in the blurb. Instead, they risk limiting themselves to conventional urban planning concepts and methods, and simply reproducing pre-existing urban design practices. Indeed, arrival is not only a matter of learning for the newcomer, "of getting to know those parts of the city that may provide opportunities for survival and getting by" (McFarlane, 2011, p. 43), urban planners equally have to learn this 'unknown city.' In order to do so, we suggest here that urban planners de-velop a deep understanding of the diversity of migrants' arrival situations. In defining the latter, we take inspiration from Zigon (2014, p. 503) for whom: To be in a situation is at one and the same time something that falls upon us, or perhaps better put, that we get caught up in, and something that to a great extent provides the conditions for possible ways of being, doing, speaking, and thinking within that situation.
Transposed to contexts of migration, newcomers can be said to find themselves 'in a situation' that falls upon them on arrival as a constellation of challenges, possibilities and connections. Taking inspiration from assemblage theory (see Zigon, 2015), for Zigon such an (arrival) situation is a 'nontotalizable assemblage': It is shaped by a multiplicity of local and translocal sociomaterial relations that stretch across neighbourhoods, cities and countries.
An arrival situation is to be understood as "both relational and territorial, as both in motion and simultaneously fixed, or embedded in place" (McCann & Ward, 2011, p. xv). The situations in which migrants arrive are partly localised, and partly taking place in relation to places elsewhere, both through physical and virtual connections (Beeckmans, 2019). Therefore, migrants' multiplicity of arrival situations cannot be captured with the imagery of the 'classic physical forms' (Saunders, 2016, p. 52) alone. As we argued before (Meeus, van Heur, & Arnaut, 2019), the neighbourhood as an imaginary and as a starting point for intervention builds further on the notion of the 'urban transition zone,' conceived by the Chicago School of Social Ecology in the early 1930s. The urban transition zone is part of a theoretical model of concentric urban development, so typical for 19th and early 20th century industrial cities. Examples of transition zones as first described are ethnic neighbourhoods such as Little Italy, with ethnic shops, church communities, village associations and social work initiatives that supported newcomers in their process of arrival. This model of the 'transition zone' continues to inform academic research and policymakers, including 'arrival city' and 'arrival neighbourhood' scholars (see Schillebeeckx, Oosterlynck, & De Decker, 2019). Yet, there are many indications that this does not allow for a comprehensive understanding of, and planning for, migrants' arrival situations. The interplay of economic globalisation and transnational network formation has resulted in more complex patterns of migration, not only bringing more migrants to Europe from more countries of origin, but also in a broader geographical distribution of migrants over the territory. This results in settlement patterns in which the capital cities and global citiesthe 'arrival cities' as depicted by Saunders-are being bypassed as 'gateway cities.' It also results in new patterns of settlements in which migrants are increasingly distributed over the urban territory, instead of being only concentrated in 'arrival neighbourhoods.' In an earlier ac-count (Meeus, van Heur & Arnaut, 2019), we already explained that due to suburbanisation and gentrification, the socio-spatial structure of the postmodern metropolis has increasingly diversified the geographies of arrival (Zelinsky & Lee, 1998). Urban service economies in the Global North depend on a bifurcated labour force, but there is-arguing against Downey and Smith (2011)no particular reason why this functional need would translate into geographical concentrations of newcomers in particular neighbourhoods in cities across the globe. Of course, there are a number of historically grown neighbourhoods in cities that have accommodated subsequent waves of newcomers and still have this function (Albeda, Tersteeg, Oosterlynck, & Verschraegen, 2018;Schillebeeckx, Oosterlynck & De Decker, 2019). And although newcomers probably use a network of arrival infrastructures distributed over the city rather than just one arrival infrastructure, when physically aggregated, urban arrival infrastructures might form new arrival neighbourhoods. Yet, a mere focus on arrival neighbourhoods risks to miss out the infrastructures that shape the arrival situation elsewhere in the broader metropolitan region. In that sense, an arrival neighbourhood framework might be too essentialising, and as Amin (2013) also argues, may produce a problematic 'telescopic urbanism' that neglects how socio-material politics that operate on diverse other scales produce unequal access to collective resources in the first place. Moreover, migrants' arrival, also in spatial terms, is multidirectional, both referring to the place that is occupied and places elsewhere in the world.
If urban planners and architects from the outset of their urban analysis and design fall back onto the classic repertoire of urban planning, with its unspoken ideological underpinnings and implicit normative assumptions, and above all its extremely limited vocabulary to speak about urban arrival (and urban diversity more generally) in spatial terms, the multiplicity and complexity of arrival situations may stay under the radar or may even be hindered by urban planning interventions. Therefore, without wanting to downplay the importance of neighbourhoods of arrival, we do think that jumping into the 'classic' territorial frameworks of 'arrival countries,' 'arrival cities' or 'arrival neighbourhoods' to approach newcomers' arrival situations, will not only result in missing out on arrival situations located elsewhere in the city, but also in entirely missing out on the relational constitution of these arrival situations beyond the implied territories.
In an attempt to acknowledge such a translocal, multi-sited and relational view on urban arrival, transnationalism scholar Smith (2005) coined the notion of emplacement to situate the agency of migrants without necessarily choosing one particular spatial scale such as the neighbourhood, the city or the country as the most important scale for analysis. Instead he advocated a spatial analysis which is sensitive to the territorial and the relational constitution of arrival. These ideas are shared by prominent transnationalism scholars such as Çağlar and Glick Schiller (2018) studying the relation between migration and multi-scalar city-making. Within the same transnationalist tradition which Çağlar and Glick Schiller initiated in the early 1990s, Amin (2002, p. 972) demonstrates how migrants-bringing along their "multiple and hybrid affiliations of varying geographical reach" and passing through the city-constitute socio-material trajectories that continuously shape and reshape the territory of the city. Trajectories "imprint places with layers of investments and practices" and "give rise to interpreted histories and spatial connotations, some of which come with more weight and influence than others" (Lagendijk et al., 2011, p. 165). Lagendijk et al. (2011) and Collins (2012) have experimented with such a perspective. Drawing on the work of Doreen Massey (2005), they have tried to embrace what Collins (2012) calls the 'productive tension' between the territorial and the relational character of the city. While Lagendijk et al. (2011, p. 163) start from "the multiple worlds in a single street" to examine "the consequences of [the] plurality of 'trajectories' for actual place-making," Collins (2012, p. 317) aims to look at the city as a whole as "both a relational and territorial configuration connected to other places yet marked by its own specificities." For Collins (2012, p. 320), the aim is to "tease out the ambiguities of transnational mobilities and their emplacement in urban space in ways that recognise how this emplacement is both facilitated and blocked." Tying in with this literature on migration and transnationalism studies, but at the same time in an attempt to infuse it with an infrastructures perspective, we propose in this article to broaden the existing urban planning repertoire with an 'arrival infrastructures' perspective. This perspective does not radically replace the existing perspectives on migrants' arrival, but rather aspires to add new layers, and to open up and enrich prevailing perspectives in urban planning.

Infrastructures and Infrastructuring Work
This section introduces and outlines the notion of 'arrival infrastructures' and argues in favour of an ethnographic approach which can be emulated by urban planners in order to explore the relational, spatiotemporal and socio-material conditions of the processes of arrival. In subsequent sections we unpack this approach into a three-way analytic of directionality, temporality and subjectivity of arrival infrastructuring. Both the notion and the analytic build further on earlier publications (Meeus, Arnaut, & van Heur, 2019). In these publications, arrival infrastructures are defined as "those parts of the urban fabric within which newcomers become entangled on arrival, and where their future local or translocal social mobilities are produced as much as negotiated" (Meeus, van Heur, & Arnaut, 2019, p. 1). While some authors with an architectural background such as Stephen Cairns (2004), differentiate between an 'architecture-formigrants' and an 'architecture-by-migrants,' we rather approach arrival infrastructures as the result of sociomaterial practices of a variety of actors, including architects and urban planners, state-employees, citizens, civil society organisations, newcomers and more established migrants. Consequently, an arrival infrastructures perspective goes beyond the assumption that assistance for settlement comes solely through formal channels, agencies and programmes, instead bringing into view a wider constellation of actors and putting the spotlight on the special role played by long-established migrants (see Wessendorf, 2018). Arrival infrastructures comprise of, for example, a variety of housing typologies (including asylum centres and squatting), shops as information hubs, religious sites, facilities for language classes, hairdressers, restaurants, international shipping and call centres. This multi-actor and multi-sited perspective on arrival infrastructures has, immediately, implications for urban planning as practice, since it unavoidably requires urban planning professionals to engage with a diversity of actors and sites beyond the planning administrations. It also opens up the debate on planning to actors such as newcomers and civil society organisations who are de facto urban planners 'on the ground,' without mostly being recognised as such.
As a consequence, and following our previous line of argument in Meeus, van Heur, and Arnaut (2019, p. 2; see also Mezzadra & Neilson, 2012): An infrastructural perspective on processes of arrival allows for a critical as well as transformative engagement with the position of the state in the management of migration. States have continuously produced new layers of supportive and exclusionary governmental infrastructures, funnelling particular groups into 'permanent arrival' or 'permanent temporariness.' As noted by Graham and Thrift (2007), a considerable amount of labour from diverse actors is needed to continuously maintain, repair and update state infrastructures: At the same time, migrants and various other actors incrementally build up sites or vantage points of temporary deployment with whatever is at hand, including parts of these governmental infrastructures. Therefore, the notion of arrival infrastructures emphasises the continuous and manifold 'infrastructuring practices' or 'infrastructuring work' by a range of actors in urban settings, which create a multitude of 'platforms' of arrival and take-off within, against and beyond the infrastructures of the state. (Meeus, van Heur, & Arnaut, 2019, p. 2) As a result, arrival infrastructures can be considered both as artefacts of governmentality and as socio-material expressions resulting from a variety of spatial agencies coming from below, and it is exactly the dialectic relationship between the two that defines their spatial aspects on which we will expand now in more detail.
Evidently, institutional arrival infrastructures, such as detention and asylum centres, can be conceptualised as artefacts of governmentality, constituted by a multitude of interception methods, waiting and mustering techniques, security systems, corridor building, etc., but also by specific architectural typologies such as the panopticon model. Yet, also non-institutional arrival infrastructures are to a greater or lesser extent embedded in urban fabrics, urban plans and urban policies and are affected by subsequent waves of governmental programmes and partnerships with civil society actors, which each imbue the arrival infrastructures with particular, sometimes even conflicting, normativities, channelling particular forms of migrant arrival. Maybe more than any other infrastructure, arrival infrastructures show that the state does not act as a monolithic bloc, but instead performs through various conflicting forms and fractions of statehood (Jeffrey, 2012, p. 39), which are all integral parts of arrival infrastructures but never completely determine it.
Moreover, while infrastructures are (partly) the product of planning processes 'from above,' infrastructures also emerge out of continuous infrastructuring practices 'from below,' as is most clearly emphasised in anthropological literature (Arnaut, Karrebaek, & Spotti, 2016;Calhoun, Sennett, & Shapira, 2013). Likewise, drawing on Star (1999), Graham and Thrift (2007) argue in favour of an academic engagement with the continuous practices of maintenance and repair that sustain infrastructure. This move indicates a methodological strategy of "infrastructural inversion" (Bowker, 1994, p. 235), which involves an investigation into the inner workings of infrastructure in order to be able to analyse its process of construction and maintenance: it requires "going backstage" (Star, 1999, p. 380) and studying infrastructure "in the making" (Star, 2002, p. 116). Situations of infrastructural failure typically instantiate such an inversion. Well-functioning infrastructures tend to disappear into the background and only become visible when they fail, potentially producing apocalyptic fears (Graham, 2010). The 2015 European 'refugee crisis' can be seen as a particular case of spectacular infrastructural failure, foregrounding an asylum infrastructure which under regular circumstances should "work in the background, effectively and silently" (Walters, 2004, p. 255).
Adopting inversion as a methodological strategy implies not only going into the backstage of the well-known institutional arrival infrastructures but also strategically describing the non-institutional infrastructures emerging from the bottom up (Elyachar, 2010;Simone, 2004). In the context of migration, Kleinman (2014) for instance describes how West Africans gain access to city life and build translocal livelihoods through the sociomaterial infrastructures transecting the Gare du Nord station in Paris. These migrant infrastructuring "partially transforms this space of transportation…into a hub of encounter that translates the social infrastructure of African migrants into a French public space" (Kleinman, 2014, p. 289). The European 'refugee crisis' is again a case in point: "The collapse or transformation of the existing asylum infrastructures and the emergence of new ones was gaining visibility by being constantly politicised, contested, or indeed accompanied by popular mobilisation and infrastructural work" (Meeus, van Heur, & Arnaut, 2019, p. 18).
El Moussawi and Meeus (2016), for instance, show how activist groups built an arrival campsite in a park (Maximiliaanpark) near Brussels' North Station in September 2015, providing the basics of shelter, food and clothes distribution, medical support, exchange of information, etc. Through their intervention, the activists exposed the carelessness of the refugee reception services in Brussels as a spectacle of migrant 'illegality' (De Genova, 2013). While refugees waiting for their turn to register as asylum seekers chose to spend the night in the activists' camp instead of in the temporary accommodation provided by the state, the camp flagrantly exposed the deficiencies of the official reception centres by building a richer and 'livelier' infrastructure (Amin, 2014)-opening the prospect of some form of "infrastructural citizenship" (Lemanski, 2018, p. 115; see also Meeus, van Heur, & Arnaut, 2019).
It is noticeable that while architects and urban planners fully master the urban planning process from above, they sometimes lack the vocabulary to speak about and the practical methods to fully trace, capture and acknowledge the infrastructuring work from the bottom up, which is such a crucial part of the arrival infrastructures. Hence, an arrival infrastructure's perspective is not only an invitation to broaden the prevailing urban planning vocabulary, but also a plea to open up conventional methods for urban analysis and design. Two methods in particular seem to be of interest. Firstly, if urban planners want to figure out how migration arrival processes take place and to be able to identify them, it seems important to carry out a detailed spatial or architectural ethnography (Kalpakci, Kaijima, & Stalder, 2020;Low, 2017). In turn, insights from architectural ethnography could be visualised and mapped through collages, drawings and software for spatial analysis to fully mobilise the visual as an interpretative instrument of analysis, instead of mere illustration (Iseki, 2018). Second, in order to steer the participation of various groups, including newcomers in the planning of the city, it seems important to engage in more reflexive and interactive forms of research, such as participatory action research. This is a disciplined, and sometimes activist, process of inquiry conducted by and for those taking the action (Kindon, Pain, & Kesby, 2007).

Urban Planning and Migrants' Futuring Vectors
Building further on the dialectic of (arrival) situations proposed above and inspired by Zigon (2015), in our view, arrival infrastructures are constructed simultaneously and interdependently 'from above' and 'from below.' But the notion of arrival infrastructures challenges an ambigu-ity in architecture and urban planning that hinders any longer-term perspective on migration. As pointed out by Cairns (2004, p. 7), for architects and urban planners, migration and infrastructure appear at first glance to contradict each other: while migration connotes a sense of temporariness, fluidity and deterritorialization, infrastructure, in contrast, seems to imply permanence, stability, rootedness, reterritorialization. How to start planning infrastructures for the fluid and the unexpected? Yet, this only appears to be a paradoxical situation, as Hannam, Sheller, and Urry (2006, p. 3) make the convincing argument that "mobilities cannot be described without attention to the necessary spatial, infrastructural and institutional moorings that configure and enable mobilities." While concepts such as 'migration infrastructure' (Xiang & Lindquist, 2014) focus on the fixities and moorings that channel mobility, our 'arrival infrastructure' approach highlights the duality of the arrival situation itself, much in the sense in which Papadopoulos, Stephenson, andTsianos (2008, p. 2010) claimed that "migrants' material becomings do not end in a new state of being; rather they constitute being as the point of departure on which new becomings emerge." They go on to state that "arrival has a longue durée…one is always there and always leaving, always leaving and always manifesting in the materiality of the place where one is. You never arrive somewhere" (Papadopoulos et al., 2008, p. 217). While the arrival situation manifests itself materially for a while, migrants keep aspiring (Boccagni, 2017, p. 1) and desiring for a 'new becoming' (Carling & Collins, 2018), a future somewhere 'here' or 'there.' Hence, migrants' aspirations and desires can be conceptualised as 'futuring vectors': the realisation of which is an integral part of the arrival situation. These are vectors that point towards potential, desirable or undesirable future becomings in the place where one arrives, in the place where one comes from, or in yet another place. In order to further clarify our approach, we will unpack the three analytical dimensions of these futuring vectors: the directionality, the temporality and the subjectivity.

Urban Planning without Imposing Directionalities
In the 1990s migration scholars started emphasising that migrants carry histories, attachments and legal and social statuses that link them to a range of places. They formulated the need to conceptualise migration as operating in transnational fields of relations that continuously relate migrants to a number of places. These insights gave way to a now firmly established tradition of 'transnationalism' studies (Portes, Guarnizo, & Landolt, 1999), a new turn in the migration and development nexus debate (De Haas, 2010) and the critique that migration studies were uncritically reproducing nation-state building efforts by taking for granted the migrants' aspiration to settle in a country and the need for assimilation in a national society (Favell, 2003, pp. 59-60). Instead, where arrival takes place is "an open question that can only be answered a posteriori" (Papadopoulou-Kourkoula, 2008, p. 5). Migrants' futuring obviously implies a notion of directionality, a 'where to' that is difficult and at least undesirable to fix beforehand and can therefore best be envisaged from the start as multidirectional. The spatial 'end-point' of arrival cannot be socio-spatially 'fixed'-either on the national or on the urban or neighbourhood level-but is always oriented toward the future, with migrants shifting their relative engagements toward certain places for a variety of reasons over time.
This multi-directionality of the past and future contrasts sharply with the normative directionality in the immigrant district approach. Scholars working on the Chicago School transition zone and its successors (enclave, suburban ethnoburb, etc.) often implicitly adopt a teleological settlement approach (Collins, 2012, p. 316) in two stages: migrants temporarily arrive in a 'port of first entry' before settling for good in the broader metropolitan region. In these accounts, migrants either move in the direction of wealthier residential areas, a process of 'spatial assimilation' (Massey & Denton, 1985), or they remain in their zones of arrival. Urban planning that implies such a normative trajectory-an arrival in the nation-state, the broader metropolitan region, the neighbourhood-constrains the multi-directionality of migrants' futuring vectors. There are plenty of examples of urban planning practices that indeed 'cage' migrants' desires. In many European countries, newcomers are, for example, expected to demonstrate their intention to stay 'forever' and to prove their local 'ties' in order to access affordable or public social housing (Schuermans, Schrooten, & De Backer, 2019). Similarly, and in the context of the 2020 COVID-19 crisis, roofless persons in Flanders had to prove their 'durable ties' to the city in order to gain access to shelters. The Belgian 'transmigrant' discussion that emerged when undocumented migrants appeared in public parks and other public spaces in Belgium in the wake of the dismantlement of informal camps near Calais in 2016, focused on migrants' 'wrong intentions'-their assumed futuring vectors pointed towards the UK and not towards applying for asylum and permanent settlement in Belgium. These formal vectors (from asylum application to either refugee status or deportation) appear to be the dominant planning rationales, but the negation and neglect of these 'deviant' vectors obviously hamper the durable planning of infrastructures that support a diversity of directionalities. Instead, they result in the regulatory illegalisation and criminalisation of bottom up produced support infrastructures such as free public toilets, informal food distributions and pop-up (mental) health provisioning in public parks and transport hubs.
A multi-directional perspective also helps to understand the complexity of place-making practices among diaspora communities that are no longer-if they ever were-simple transfers of practices from origin to the host country. According to Ley (2008), migrant churches offer newcomers a place to meet fellow immigrants with shared existential concerns (living in a foreign city, the trauma of a foreign language, difficulties finding a job) and shared biographies (migration from the same region, country). Beeckmans (in press) found out that when new Redeemed Christian Church of God churches (a Pentecostal church originally established in Nigeria) are established throughout Europe, pastors do not primarily look at place-making strategies in Lagos for inspiration. Instead, they refer to the church-building practices they have encountered elsewhere in Europe before establishing their own parish, as these are much more fitted to the context. Along these polycentric networks, physical place-making practices are exchanged, as well as transformed and adapted to the local context. Yet, research into Afro-Christian churches (Beeckmans, in press), has demonstrated how (building) regulations are sometimes used in an attempt to obstruct certain forms of interaction without formulating it as such. This is, for instance, the case when legislation with regard to noise pollution or fire safety is employed to ban certain ('ethnic') activities from particular urban locations. Hence, if we want to strengthen 'arrival infrastructures' we should avoid that urban planning policies allow such improper use of (technical) regulations.

Urban Planning for the Temporary
Many political debates about migration keep revolving around the crucial binary distinction between 'temporary' and 'permanent' residents. Arguing against this dichotomy, and as we already indicated in Meeus, van Heur, and Arnaut (2019), scholars have observed that more and more migrants are being kept in a state of "permanent temporariness" (Latham, Vosko, Preston, & Bretón, 2014, p. 20) or "transient permanence" (Isin & Rygiel, 2007, p. 193). Paths to full inclusion are growing longer for those who are portrayed as not yet adapted to fit into an imagined homogenous national culture. However, we support Latham et al. (2014) in arguing that the dichotomy between permanency and temporariness hampers a nuanced understanding of the diversity of temporalities that shape the arrival situation. We argue that urban planners should leave space to 'liberate temporariness' (Latham et al., 2014) and to plan for durable solutions for temporary presences. A particular case in point is the improvised 'shipping container' and 'recycled pallet' architecture and aesthetics that appears time and again whenever flows of asylum seekers are seen as exceeding the existing asylum infrastructure.
Planning for the temporary is best illustrated by the proposal of the Belgian architectural collective HEIM to build permanent (arrival) infrastructures for temporary residence in cities (Beeckmans, 2017). While migration is all but a new phenomenon, the European refugee crisis of 2015-2016 has painfully demonstrated that long-term sustainable infrastructure for the temporary accommodation of refugees in times of peaks does not exist. In its work, HEIM reflects on innovative housing typologies for the temporary accommodation of refugees (both before and after their acceptance) that are not temporary in the sense of ad hoc or provisional on an architectural level. At the same time, HEIM reflects on how this permanent infrastructure for temporary residents can also accommodate for other urban dwellers that are in transit in the city, such as students, tourists, homeless people, etc. Is it, for instance, possible to develop a sustainable and flexible infrastructure for the temporary accommodation of both students and refugees, with a standard of quality that goes far beyond current makeshift solutions and having the capacity to also become an asset for the city as a whole? While such infrastructures already exist in the Netherlands, such as Startblok Riekerhaven (Amsterdam), we see that they spatially take the form of a provisional construction indeed forming a village of containers. The question is all the more relevant, since the university not only has to cope with a large population of temporary residents in the city, namely its students and part of its personnel, the university has also partly contributed to the current housing crisis in many cities. Indeed, the presence of students, most often financially supported by their parents or the state, has significantly driven up the rental prices on the private housing market.
In its work, HEIM problematises the situation of newcomers on a spatial, architectural and infrastructural level. In this context HEIM has argued that the way refugees are currently accommodated (both during their procedure and after their acceptance) is not contributing to their inclusion. Today refugees applying for asylum are housed in large collective centres, often converted (and decayed) buildings like military barracks or holiday camps, isolated from the (urban) environment. After their acceptance, newcomers are only granted a very short period to find a new place of residence in their host country. Without any social or professional network, severe discrimination in the housing market and a shortage of public housing, they often end up in very precarious housing conditions. The challenge is to think about new housing typologies that have the potential to both foster the inclusion of newcomers (both before and after acceptance) and add to the city by providing room for a new kind of collective space.
HEIM conceptualises this question as an important societal and design question and by doing so appeals to architects to take up a more social-responsible role as they often passively wait for assignments to come to them. Together with NGO's, private investors and local policymakers, HEIM thus seeks to develop new flexible, sustainable and permanent housing models for the temporary accommodation of newcomers. This permanent infrastructure for temporary accommodation is necessary during their asylum procedure, but also after this period since the family composition of many newcomers as well their financial situation is often highly flexible, causing many movements in the first years after their acceptance. HEIM believes that by inserting such housing facilities with secondary functions for employment and leisure, such as social restaurants or bike repair cafés, as is the case in Refugio Sharehaus Berlin, a former home for elderly where Berliners and refugees now live together, they will not only have the potential to strengthen the interaction between the diverse population groups of the city, they will also diversify the futuring vectors of the inhabitants in terms of potential subjectivities.

Urban Planning beyond Entrepreneurial Subjectivities
An important distinction can be made between the theoretically endless multiplicity of migrants' own and collective subjectivities on the one hand, and the narrow objects of governance (forced/voluntary, economic migrant/asylum seeker, etc.) clearly defined by the regulating state on the other hand (Papadopoulos & Tsianos, 2013, p. 185). The creation of these objects of governance effaces the multiplicity of migratory subjects and struggles, and as a result: "sovereignty breaks the connectivity between multiple migratory subjects in order to make them visible and render them governable subjects of mobility" (Papadopoulos & Tsianos, 2013, p. 185), a connectivity which is the basis of a range of solidarities between migratory and non-migratory subjects. Recent scholarship on the role of desire and aspiration in migration has further explored the individual and collective dynamics of 'being-becoming': "People do not aspire to migrate; they aspire to something which migration might help them achieve" (Bakewell, as cited in Carling & Collins, 2018, p. 9). Hence, "the significant relation to study…is not between subjects and migration possibilities, but rather between subjects and their potential transformation through migration" (Bakewell, as cited in Carling & Collins, 2018, p. 9). As explored elsewhere (Meeus, van Heur, & Arnaut, 2019, p. 7), migrants negotiate who they are with a range of actors such as traffickers, humanitarian and civil society organisations, and other (non-migrant) residents who imagine and objectify them respectively and to varying degrees as commodities (Bilger, Hofmann, & Jandl, 2006), animals (Papadopoulos et al., 2008), victims (Pallister-Wilkins, 2018), deserving and non-deserving illegals (Chauvin & Garcés-Mascareñas, 2012), but potentially also as allies in particular social struggles (Featherstone, 2017;García Agustin & Jørgensen, 2016).
Urban planners should therefore avoid a third trap, which is falling into particular pre-defined subjectivities, an example of which can be read in Doug Saunders' introduction to the Making Heimat exposition: The immigrant district, when allowed to function fully, is perhaps the last remaining center of pure capitalism. Many of the most successful enterprises in European countries, including some of the largest and most famous corporations, were products of newimmigrant entrepreneurship. (Saunders, 2016, p. 32) Saunders builds his argument earlier on a legitimate starting point: the fact that Fordist industrial factory employment used to be integration machines for newcomers and that such forms of employment have disappeared. For Saunders, ethnic entrepreneurship now appears to be the preferred route towards integration. A route that thus has to be encouraged. But industrial employment was not only a way towards integration. As Bauman (2013) noticed, industrial production units were also factories of working-class solidarity. The preference for the subject of the entrepreneurial migrant resonates with the lingering growth of a particular strand of liberal urban governance discourses on 'slum,' and 'ethnic' entrepreneurship. As revealed by McFarlane (2012) and Amin (2013), these discourses narrow down the energies in poor immigrant urban areas to the entrepreneurial potentials of individuals and do not scale up in a similar way the innovative practices and discourses on solidarity-in-diversity that grow there as well (Meeus, 2017;Oosterlynck, Loopmans, Schuermans, Vandenabeele, & Zemni, 2016).
Indeed, the attractive panorama of ethnic commerce in the immigrant neighbourhoods can lure urban planners into a narrow 'planning for entrepreneurs' that prioritises the place-making practices of entrepreneurs. Again, we do not want to downplay the diverse roles the infrastructures of ethnic commerce can play in shaping the arrival situation. The work of, for example, Schillebeeckx et al. (2019) demonstrates that shops can equally function as important meeting places, providing an infrastructure for conviviality, for social support, etc. But many other socially innovative and placebased solidarities suffer from too strict regulatory frameworks and normativities (see Oosterlynck, 2018, for examples). Hence, apart from a more adjusted, less normative (building) regulatory framework, in many cases these activities would also benefit from the introduction of less strict law policy areas/zones so that the potential for diverse and still unimaginable futuring vectors can be realised.

Conclusion
In this article we propose an arrival infrastructures perspective to broaden the existing urban planning repertoire on urban diversity. If we want to come to more inclusive cities and plan for diversity (Fincher & Iveson, 2008), it seems important to understand where and how migrants' arrival takes place. We believe that an arrival infrastructure's perspective allows for a more in-depth and layered understanding of migrants' arrival situation.
If urban planners want to engage with migrants' arrival, and we think they should, even simply because urban planners should plan for all urban dwellers, an arrival infrastructures perspective could help them (1) to explore the discrepancy between migrants' own futuring vectors in terms of directionalities, temporalities and subjectivities and the deficiency of the current arrival sit-uation in accommodating and resourcing these vectors, and (2) to identify which interventions in the infrastructures that constitute these situations could accommodate a greater diversity of futuring vectors. Hence, an arrival infrastructures perspective offers a vocabulary to start imagining the multiplicity of potential arrival situations and of potential actors involved in infrastructuring the futures of migrants who find themselves in these arrival situations. As a vocabulary, it aims at broadening our understanding of urban space as something that is mutually produced, and urban planning and design as a process that is negotiated and always unfinished (Latour & Yaneva, 2018). As a result, such a perspective requires practical methods to identify and explore this multiplicity and to trace, grasp and acknowledge the nonexpert agency in the use, appropriation and fabrication of the built environment. Providing the spatial arrangements for 'arrival' to take place then implies not only another role for urban space, but also for urban planning. This is of course also an intensely political statement as it seeks to facilitate an everyday 'right to the city,' building on the famous concept of Lefebvre (2009), yet moving away from a bias which is sometimes incorporated in it, assuming that agency 'from below' is legitimate, while 'top down' intervention is faulty. Hence, perhaps idealistically, yet tying in with some recent studies, we believe in a positive effect of qualitative urban and architectural design on urban diversity (Aelbrecht, & Stevens, 2018;Rieniets, Sigler, & Christiaanse, 2009). Moreover, this belief is fostered by the observation that poor urban design and planning can stifle the very diversity architects and policymakers want to achieve (Talen, 2008). The greatest challenge for urban planners while imbuing potential arrival infrastructures with design interventions, will then be, firstly, safeguarding the fragility (and sometimes even 'illegality') of these spaces, and secondly, to design in a participatory way, also in the sense that there is still enough room for (cultural) appropriations in the post-design phase (Vervloesem, Dehaene, Goethals, & Yegenoglu, 2016). Ultimately, the aim would not be purposefully designed scenarios that entirely predefine the use of spaces, but instead provide the spatial arrangements enabling arrival in such a way that they still can be tailored to the needs of users and by the users. Hence, this requires a design approach that leaves sufficient room for "uncertainty as a productive factor" (Havik, Patteeuw, & Teerds, 2011, p. 4). Or, the futuring of the diverse city should start from the diverse futuring vectors of its inhabitants. Karel Arnaut is Associate Professor at the Interculturalism, Migration and Minorities Research Centre (IMMRC) and Programme Director of Anthropology, both at KU Leuven. His research focuses on postcolonial discourses and practices of diversity and mobility in connection with migration. While his earlier research was mainly focusing on Africa, his current research is primarily oriented towards immigration to and emigration from and within, Europe. He is also editor-in-chief of the journal African Diaspora.