Multimodal Soundscape Walking: Sensing and Understanding the Cultural and Linguistic Diver[City]

Complexity Theory

Complexity theory is a field of study that seeks to understand the inherent uncertainty and non-linearity complexity of systems and how they evolve. It is concerned with understanding the behaviour of complex systems, and how they can be modelled and analyzed to gain insight into their behaviour (Grobman, 2005). Complexity theory according to Byrne & Callaghan, (2022) states that the world—both the social and natural parts of it—should be seen as made up of systems that are complex, open (not isolated), and constantly changing (far from equilibrium). These systems are not just complicated, which would imply they can be broken down into simpler, predictable parts. Instead, to understand them, they need to be broken down into their components to explain how these parts interact based on their properties. However, doing so will not provide a complete picture, because these systems are interconnected and evolve in unpredictable ways (p. 22).

Although, complexity theory has emerged from theoretical computer science that focuses on classifying computational problems according to their inherent difficulty and determining the resources needed to solve them (Luisa, 2014), according to Flaherty (2019) complexity theory is a multifaceted, interdisciplinary area of study that challenges traditional scientific assumptions about order and predictability, particularly as they relate to social systems. It emerged in the late 20th century as a “second wave” of systems thinking, building upon and diverging from earlier general systems theory. Here, complexity theory is used to understand how social systems and structures emerge, evolve, and interact as social phenomena that emerge from the interactions of individuals within a system.

Furthermore, this non-linearity is directly related to the ideas of complex adaptive system (CAS) in which the word complex implies diversity, through a great number, and a wide variety of ubiquitous, self-organized, interdependent, yet autonomous parts (Lansing, 2003). Holland (2006) suggests that “CAS are systems that have a large numbers of components, often called agents, that interact and adapt or learn.”(p. 1) and that the adaptive part might refer to the system’s ability to alter, change, and learn from past experiences and the system part might refer to a set of connected and interdependent parts that form networks. These interconnections and patterns are part of how life is organized that can be studied at a subatomic level within quantum physics or at a societal level similar to a collection of individual agents with freedom that act in ways that are not always totally predictable such as a colony of termites, the financial market, or even a surgical team (Holden, 2005).

Complexity theory emphasizes interactions and the accompanying feedback loops that constantly change systems. While it proposes that systems are unpredictable, they are also constrained by order-generating rules (Cilliers, 1998) which might raise questions about the limits of what can be known and predicted. The behaviour of complex systems can be highly unpredictable, leading to philosophical discussions about determinism, free will, and the challenges of scientific prediction within the realm of universal chaos (Kauffman, 1995). What this means for Jantsch (1980) is that a complex system tends to challenge reductionist approaches in systems by emphasizing the importance of studying them as a whole, rather than just analyzing their individual components. This thought has vast implications for how we understand and explain phenomena in various domains, including biology, sociology, ecology, and the humanities. Complexity science offers a powerful new approach beyond merely looking at increasing connections, diversity, and interactions to promote creative adaptation, but how systems share principles that can be observed across time and space (Zimmerman et al., 1998).

Complexity theory offered me a framework for understanding social systems as dynamic, emergent, and sensitive to their history and initial conditions. In the end, it calls for a shift in methodology that embraces ideas of moving beyond traditional linear models to employ a more holistic and pluralistic approach (Flaherty, 2019; Guastello et al., 2009).

Operationalizing Complexity Theory in This Study

During my work as an ethnographer collecting data by walking the city, I saw complexity theory is not merely a framing device for my research; it actively structured my data collection and analysis. As Gear et al. (2018) argue, complexity theory can shape a researcher’s “theoretical perspective, conceptualization of the research problem, and selection of methodology and methods,” allowing the investigation to capture emergent insights that linear, reductionist approaches would miss (p. 2). Three principles of complexity thinking, in particular, guided my Multimodal Soundscape Walking (MSW) methodology: non-linearity, adaptive agents, and open systems.

First, non-linearity meant that I did not seek simple cause-and-effect relationships between specific sounds and cultural identities. Instead, I attended to emergent patterns, moments where languages, movements, and materials coalesced unpredictably (e.g., a protest chant in Persian bleeding into the soundscape of a Saturday market). Second, I treated each sonic source (a street vendor, a child laughing, a busker’s song) as an adaptive agent whose actions influenced and were influenced by others in the soundscape, creating feedback loops that constantly reshaped the acoustic environment. Third, recognizing urban spaces as open systems, I deliberately walked without fixed hypotheses, allowing the city’s soundscape to redirect my attention toward unanticipated linguistic and cultural encounters. Table 1 below shows complexity concepts onto specific analytical moves I made during IMA (explained later in this article).

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Table 1.

Operationalizing complexity theory

Complexity concept	Operationalization in MSW	Example from data
Emergence	Thematic clustering from multimedia cross-referencing	Persian language appearing in protest audio, posters, and Google Translate reflection
Feedback loops	Emotional responses (crying at Spanish music) flagged as data, not noise	Colombian memory triggered by Vietnamese food stall
Sensitivity to initial conditions	Walk routes influenced by sounds heard on previous walks	Second pass at St. George Market to capture missed language interactions

The mapping of complexity concepts onto analytical procedures as seen on the table above is not an end in itself but a point of departure. It shows that complexity theory, far from being an abstract backdrop, entered my research at the level of practical, embodied decisions: which sounds to follow, how to annotate field notes, what counted as a meaningful pattern. In this sense, complexity theory becomes a methodological attitude rather than a mere citation. It asks the researcher to remain open to surprise, to treat contradiction as data, and to accept that the city’s languages and cultures will never resolve into a single, tidy story.

Here complexity theory provided me with a point of reference where the concrete practices gave shape to my ongoing inquiry. The following section, Walking with Sounds, details how I operationalized complexity thinking through soundwalking, field notes, mapping, and intuitive multimedia analysis. For me as a walking ethnographer, the abstract principles of emergence, feedback, and openness become audible, visible, and traceable, I still remember one footstep, one recording, one reflection at a time.

Walking Methodologies

The art of walking while recording sounds or Soundwalking is not a novel concept, as a method of exploring the world has been around for more than a thousand years. Most ancient civilizations would depict walking routes from one place to another by listening to the sounds of nature, and places and documenting them on mental maps (Radicchi, 2017). Soundwalking refers to the actions of walking and recording sound, “… it is an action that is in progress associated to time, space and place, albeit on occasion vicarious or virtual”(Drever, 2021, p. 2). What characterizes the soundwalk as a sonic method, is precisely how it relates to the meta-concept of soundscape, and the ability to hear, record and sense the sounds of the environment. In the field of acoustic landscape studies (Sémidor, 2006) sounds can be noted and recorded on specific routes determined by the researchers, here the soundwalk is an essential part of the urban designer who pays attention to the different nuances of sound life in the city and although this method has been used by urban designers, others have used it for educational purposes (Springgay & Truman, 2017).

Walking as a method of investigating folk life in the city has mainly been used in the field of human geography and urban geography by looking at buildings, talking to the passerby, observing the dynamics of the city and participating in city events (Pierce & Lawhon, 2015). Various scholars have posited walking as a research method differently based on their subjective understandings of what it means to do empirical fieldwork (Duedahl & Stilling Blichfeldt, 2020; King & Woodroffe, 2017) whereas others have utilized walking research methods as a way to engage different relational, cultural and geographical contexts worldwide (Kwiatkowski, 2016). Walking as a methodology in qualitative research has been practiced and theorized through different approaches in the past few years (Lorimer, 2010; Springgay & Truman, 2017). As a researcher who has been fascinated with walking, I found that walking methodology would make sense for this study. As a methodology, walking has its value for conducting research that is situated, relational, and material in connection with participants and their contexts.

Building on the importance of place, sensory inquiry, embodiment, and rhythm within walking research (Lefebvre, 2013; Pink, 2009), this particular form of collecting data is accountable to the ethics and politics of the more-than-human: Land and geos, affect, transmaterial and movement. To this, Springgay & Truman (2017) consider the more-than-human dimensions and a wide range of walking methods and forms including long walks on hiking trails, geological walks, sensory walks, sonic art walks, processions, orienteering races, protest and activist walks, walking tours, mapping, school-based walking projects, and others. Walking methodology questions and challenges the mere idea of research subjects from an objective perspective, one of its main goals refers to “destabilizing humanism’s structuring of human and non-human, nature and culture” (Springgay & Truman, 2017, p. 14). In a sense, the research participants are not on the other side of the research spectrum but are in contact with the researchers and everything that surrounds them—the lines are blurred, thus disbalancing any empirical power relations.

Soundscaping

Soundscape describes how humans perceive the acoustics of diverse environments by immersing and carefully listening to the nuanced sounds emerging from myriad sources (Southworth, 1969). Westerkamp (1974) coined the term “soundwalking” and has advocated for the practice as a means of deepening our connection to the sonic environment. According to her, soundwalking is a practice combining walking and sound attention that involves purposefully paying attention to the sounds in your environment while taking a walk. It’s a form of mindful listening that encourages you to focus on the auditory experience of your surroundings, allowing you to become more attuned to the soundscape and the various sonic elements that make up your environment.

According to Schafer (1993), humans have suffered from an excess of acoustic information and a corresponding decline in our capacity to discern the finer details of sound. He believes that to grasp and categorize sounds by enjoying their beauty or ugliness, our duty should be to listen, evaluate, and create distinctions. He also suggests that humans might learn to distinguish the sounds that enliven and feed us so we can learn how to create healthier environments through soundwalks, which help us get more familiar with acoustics and aesthetics and train us to be more discerning and sensitive to the sounds around us. Here, “a soundscape consists of events heard not objects seen. Beyond aural perception is the notation and photography of sound” (p. 8).

Schafer (1993) argues that soundscaping involves purposefully listening to the sounds of a particular environment while walking through it. Soundwalks encourage participants to pay close attention to the sonic details of their surroundings, helping them become more attuned to the nuances of the soundscape. Schafer saw soundwalks as a way to engage with the auditory world and develop a heightened sense of listening awareness. Drawing on his work, I engaged in soundwalk as sound contemplation in the following 5 steps:

(1) Choose a location: I decided where I wanted to take the soundwalks. I knew it could be a park, a busy city street, a forest, or any other environment with a variety of sounds; for this article, I chose the city centre and the popular St. George Market.

I purposely chose St. George Market and Belfast city centre for three reasons: (1) both are publicly accessible spaces where diverse populations converge; (2) pilot observations suggested high linguistic variety; (3) existing literature identified these sites as nodes of post-conflict superdiversity (Doyle & McAreavey, 2014). I excluded residential areas and private businesses to avoid intruding on domestic or commercial privacy.

Field Notes and Mapping

I conducted three formal soundwalks between October 2022 and November 2023, each lasting 2 to 4 h. In total, I recorded 47 min of audio, took 132 photographs, and wrote 12 pages of field notes. My thoughts, ideas, reflections, and observations were constantly recorded through the field notes and drawings during and after my walks (Creswell, 2011). Field notes ensure nuanced contextual information and rich data that later can be retrieved to be analyzed and cross-checked with literature that improves the depth of findings and later for further dissemination (Phillippi & Lauderdale, 2018). I carefully recorded both descriptive and reflective field notes with personal thoughts related to the insights brought by the sounds I heard and my own experiences. I also recorded emerging themes during my observations based on situations, people, spaces, and languages I heard. Figure 1 presents how I recorded my notes with the date and time of my recordings and used different colours to highlight connections with ideas. Saldaña & Omasta (2021) reminded me that although memory plays a key role in recording data, it is important to record the data as the memory can be unreliable. It is well known that “Social life is filled with such meticulous detail that no one can keep all that happened recorded accurately in his mind. Observations are best documented in some way through writing and/or visual methods for recall and analytic reference” (p. 71). In my three soundwalks, I recorded a total of 12 handwritten field notes in my notebook, I sometimes would glue pieces of paper from fliers or pamphlets that I would pick up along the way.OPEN IN VIEWER

Additionally to taking notes, I also utilize a technique called mapping. According to Sato et al. (2014), the origins of mapping have a long history in which human interactions and relationships with geographic spaces and places are explored and these mainly deal with “The search for representing reality and its various interfaces employing images and maps have always been present in civilization” (p. 106). Here, mapping becomes central to life as it helps us depict the journey of our lives as individuals or as groups and are important social, cultural, and political phenomena in society. Maps are helpful because they can present a variety of complex social and environmental information in a way that is easy to interpret (Deluca & Matson, 2017). Futch & Fine (2014) explored the value of hand-drawn maps to illustrate an individual’s impressions of and relationships to a particular place, Figure 2 showcases how I illustrated my journeys throughout the different spaces I walked.OPEN IN VIEWER

I specifically utilized mapping within a critical qualitative research lens as a way “to disrupt traditional hierarchies and open research spaces that are more equitable for participants, researchers, and readers” (Marx, 2023, p. 285). Indeed, mapping allowed me to understand that all beings occupy spaces sparsely and we all make space as we walk, it is almost as if we were talking to each other without even noticing—we were tracing paths along the way. Figure 2 on the left depicts a map of my walk at St. George Market, black means how I mapped the first half of my walk and red depicts a follow-up to record and see the path from other perspectives. Similarly, Figure 2 on the right (a digital version of the map) captures two walks and three different key points in my walk in the city centre of Belfast.

Field notes in this research allowed me to be detailed and systematic about the recordings I made during my observations, interactions, or experiences while conducting fieldwork. Field notes captured a wide range of information, including observations, conversations, behaviours, emotions, context, and other relevant data that contributed to my understanding of how humans engage in languages and cultures in different spaces.

As a visual researcher, mapping allowed me to synthesize information, reveal hidden relationships, and communicate complex ideas in a more accessible and understandable way. It can enhance both qualitative and quantitative research approaches by providing a visual framework for analysis and interpretation.

Combining field notes and mapping helped me to develop a holistic understanding of the research context. Field notes provide the narrative and depth, while mapping offers a structured and visual framework for organizing and synthesizing the data. Mapping and field notes were tools that helped to capture the nuances of my observations, feelings and emotions and served complementary roles in enhancing the depth and richness of the research process.

Towards Intuitive Multimedia Analysis

After collecting all the data (sounds, videos, photographs, journal notes and maps), I adapted Saldaña’s (2012) coding methods for multimedia data. I labelled them and organized them into folders on the computer for easy retrieval and further coding. After, I transferred codes to a spreadsheet with columns for: timestamp, language heard, cultural artifact observed, emotional response, and complexity-theory principle invoked. Intercoder reliability was not applicable as I am the sole researcher, but I conducted a second coding pass 4 weeks after the first to check consistency. To illustrate, here is how I coded a 45-s audio segment from St. George Market (file: SGM_20221002_1432):

• Timestamp: 0:00–0:12—Busker singing “Let It Be” in English

These three codes (English music, Polish conversation, Arabic vendor) clustered under the theme “Synergistic sound layering,” which I later linked to (Bot et al., 2007) dynamic systems theory of language coexistence. After this I conducted a four-step method through an intuitive multimedia analysis (IMA) (Figure 3).OPEN IN VIEWER

This approach complemented and enhanced the more formal analytical techniques I used previously, such as continuous coding and thematic analysis (Boyatzis, 1998; Saldaña, 2012) which in the end helped me to make sense of conflicting or ambiguous data by grasping the intricate social, cultural, and historical factors at play before, during and after the analysis.

The first step I took was to go over the visual part of the data. I initially used photograph analysis as a way to learn and “understand how societies are culturally and socially constructed, to critically uncover the meaning people place on certain activities, places, things and rituals and to record and analyze important social events and problems” (Cleland & MacLeod, 2021, p. 231). I made marks on the photos and wrote reflective notes on key aspects of how cultures/languages were exhibited, allowing myself to write about my emotions and feelings.

After that, I used a point pattern analysis within map analysis which “looks at the relationship between the locations of objects or events in space relative to the locations of other objects or events” (Deluca & Matson, 2017, p. 212) to understand how cultures and languages perform, correlate or overlap with each other based on my previous notes and marks on the photos. I noted the visible languages depicted in the photos and videos and how they would relate to any specific culture as I correlated with the languages I heard being spoken from the recorded sounds. Sometimes, some sounds and images evoke familiar places back home (Colombia).

The second step of this process was to look at the maps I created by hand or digitally, then retrace the walks and make notes on particular moments in which I experienced languages and cultures as being performed by community members. I cross-checked this information with the field notes I collected during and after the walks. As I was retracing my steps, I was transported to those places I visited and the sounds, smells and even memories of particular places.

In the third step of this analysis, I made a list of all the languages and cultures that I experienced by re-listening to the recorded soundscapes. I put on my noise-cancelling headphones and immerse myself in listening carefully and experiencing the walks again but this time paying careful attention to how languages, experiences and cultures intersect. I took notes on particular moments such as friends and families talking in their home languages, street vendors selling cultural artifacts and street musicians singing in different languages. Here, I used an anthrophonological approach to identify the presence and activities of human beings concerning their culture, tradition languages and habits (Pavan, 2017). I was here when I understood how language is key to human communication. It not only conveys meaning but hopes, fears, emotions and not only my own memories of similar places but those who share them with others while they walk.

In the last step of this intuitive analytical process, I used all the information obtained through the analysis of recasting my steps from the walks, my thoughts and emerging ideas and collated them on spreadsheets to further code the languages and cultures observed. Subsequently, I created an analytical display to see the correlations to create themes based on comparing the multimedia materials with the notes on the spreadsheets (Figure 4).OPEN IN VIEWER

This process of playing with data and paying attention to the nuances of connected languages and cultures was very natural and intuitive to me, as I attempted to disentangle from objectivity. I felt I was part of the data, as immerse with the data and not a separate being from those collected multimedia objects—I was part of the data with my memories, feelings and emotions. I learned that collecting data and analyzing is bigger that I could I imagine, it was part of the self, but also in relation to other beings walking the city. This process was not objective but almost a spiritual connection with data and how it relates to other humans and non-humans.

A Site to Live the World

As I was collecting data, I noticed the city, as a research participant, like a human being with a history and experiences. I imagine the city as cosmopolitan being with an immigrant background. For example, St. George Market, in Belfast, like any other market, is a mirror of representation of the world. During my walks, I encountered a vibrant atmosphere filled with a diverse range of sights, sounds, and smells. In different areas of the market, I experienced a diverse range of goods, products, and services from various countries and cultures which typically cater to both residents and tourists, offering a unique shopping experience that showcases the global diversity of goods. For example, Figure 5 (left) presents artifacts of hand-made products from Nepal, toys, clothes, and household items while Figure 5 (right) advertises food from Thailand, not only for meat eaters but for vegans as well.OPEN IN VIEWER

I imagined the city as if I were interviewing a research participant who is telling me about their lived experiences. As such, in this rewarding multi-sensory experience, I could not help but understand that this market brings together a wide variety of cultures and nationalities. In a sense, experiencing the market is like living the world and engaging with vendors and artisans. Here, the city, through its market, offered me thick descriptions (Saldaña & Omasta, 2021) and insights into the traditions, crafts, and stories that each person brings with them as a vendor or as a buyer when learning about the origins and significance of the products being sold which in the end can deepen our understanding of how cultures and languages intersect. I also imagined the city accepting an invitation for interview. To this, I remember I had a nice chat with the Yak Shak vendor discussing how most of his products from Nepal are similar to those from Latin America, with similar colours, patterns, and spiritual ideas. He also mentioned how we, as humans, are one and the market is a representation of that unity. He explained how the market provides multilingual and multicultural experiences under one roof. It almost seemed like the city was giving me these insights into their own experiences.

In the end, I realized that seeing the city as an active research participant helped me to understand that the city is alive, like a human being and anyone visiting the market is about immersing themselves in the culture and atmosphere from the first moment at the door listening to a local artist playing world music. The bustling activity of the market, with colourful stalls and displays and the dazzling array of products, from fresh produce and spices to handicrafts and clothing create lasting memories and unique stories to share with friends and family. To this date, I still remember tracing my steps and connecting to others as if I were travelling around the world with a friend (the city).

A Site for Hope

Lefebvre (2013) reminded me that the city is in constant movement, it never sleeps, almost as if it were a living being. As I was sitting down on a bench at St. George Market to rest from the walk, I had my head looking down and noticed all the people’s legs walking back and forth but also, animals’ legs, the wheels of strollers, wheelchairs, bicycles, and scooters coming and going (Figure 6). A family sitting next to me was talking about how happy they were to be living in this city as they “had made it” to safety after their immigration journey through different countries in Europe. This conversation was like a metaphor for what I was seeing, I reflected on the different journeys all people have experienced on this land. In a city that seemed to never stop, people from all walks of life passed by carrying their hopes and dreams as they wanted to make it to their destinations. All the movement I experienced while sitting down was just an example of people moving (migrating) to this land (McDermott, 2023). People migrate for various reasons, including seeking better economic opportunities, escaping persecution and discrimination, exploring new cultures, and fulfilling personal desires for change and growth (Van Hear, 1998). While sitting down and looking at people moving around the market, I thought about how migration is a complex interplay of social, economic, political, environmental, and individual factors that can have diverse impacts on communities, influenced by varying attitudes and policies across different societies and governments (Faist et al., 2013). One of the parents sitting next to me seemed to be happy to know that Belfast has opened the doors and windows of opportunity for him to have a job and provide his family with the necessary economic resources to move away from their precarious lives “back home,” in a sense, the city has brought him and his family some hope after “his movement journey” (migration).OPEN IN VIEWER

A Site for Solidarity

As I walk through the valley of concrete and asphalt, I sense the living city in solidarity with those who have been deprived of their rights. I set up my record and started walking from the city hall and immediately heard what appeared to be some kind of rally or protest against the Iranian regime and in support of the women’s fight against oppression in the country. I could hear the animosity and the cries for attention as they were speaking in a foreign language, I stopped and briefly asked, and they said they were speaking Persian and sometimes Arabic and English. I recorded a few minutes of this event and carried on walking, soon after, I encountered these two posers (Figure 7) depicting the face of a woman and messages in English and another language I was not aware of. I used my phone to use the photo translation app from Google and immediately detected and translated the other language into English, it was in fact Persian, the same language used in the protest (Audio File: Persian 001). The poster on the left presents a message in English and Persian, the poster on the centre presents the message in Persian and the figure on the right presents the translation from the Google app that reads “A general strike of workers is necessary.”OPEN IN VIEWER

When I finished half of my daily walk, I sat down and took notes on this experience as I was astonished at how the sound, I had recorded that day from the protest was connected to the posters, as it seems the Persian language has been used with English to bring attention to an important international issue.

Throughout my different walks in the year 2022 and 2023, I also felt the city as a partner in crime, a research participant, a clever informant who shared her experiences with me. The city of Belfast like any other superdiverse city described to me the multiplicity of beings who she engages with, their cultures, languages, and identities. Through the city, I experienced the world, she offered hope to those who have been at the margins of society and showed some respect and solidarity to how needed the most. I learned to respect and see her with other eyes.

Hearing

Hearing is one of the main senses of the human body that allows us to perceive detect and interpret sound waves in the environment through the ears. During my sound walking experience, I realized that hearing is a complex process that involves capturing and carefully paying attention to the sounds, voices, and noises of the city (see audio excerpt below).

Audio Excerpt 1 (transcribed from SGM_20221002_1432)

In the above example, I documented three languages (English, Polish, implied Arabic from the vendor’s accent) and two modes of address (parent-child intimacy, customer-vendor transaction). The non-linearity of complexity theory is audible here: these language events do not follow a predictable sequence but layer, interrupt, and echo each other. My heartbeat (recorded incidentally on the audio) quickened during the child’s excited call and the sudden interruption by the perfume vendor. In this sensory process, I needed to make sense of the sounds in the environment, where they are coming from, how they relate to each other and the relationships with those others who roam the streets. I could hear other voices, conversations, and exchanges of information in different languages, languages that I do not know but I could hear and feel their rhythm, cadence, pitch, and music.

I could hear myself breathing, I could hear how my heartbeat changed according to how the environment changed. If there was a lot of commotion, or bodies or people talking fast and passionately, my heartbeat would go faster. If I was in a quieter area my heartbeat would go calm. In a sense, it seemed that my breath was taking up the rhythm of the city, Lefebvre (2013) posits that the human body is composed of several rhythms; to observe rhythms outside of the body, the rhythm is the conjunction of the rhythmanalyst (the person who feels the rhythm) and the object of the analysis (the city) which allowed me to pause and be “present” of the sounds, languages and cultures of the city. Lefebvre describes this presence as the “facts of both nature and culture, at the same time sensible, affective and moral rather than imaginary” (p. 32).

Feeling

Pink (2015) reminded me that ethnographic work is not isolated and also helped me to understand that sensing/feeling can be interconnected and interknitted within research, the phenomena, and the participants (me and the others). Her work exhorted me to be a “sensory apprentice” by gaining knowledge through the mediated practice and paying closer attention to all my human senses in connection to the city. As I am walking the streets, I pause because I am listening to music in Spanish, and it is coming from speakers I cannot see. The excerpt below from my data depicts this sentiment.

A busker’s guitar drifts out of a doorway. He sings in Spanish – a bolero I half-recognize from my mother’s kitchen. My throat tightens. On the recording, you can hear my exhale change, a pause in my footsteps. I stop walking and lean against a lamppost for a few seconds. My field note that evening reads: “Not nostalgia. Something more like a body remembering before the mind does. The city didn’t make me feel this. But it held the sound that unlocked it.” (Audio file: CC_20230415_1123: City Centre, near Castle Lane)

As I hear this music in Spanish, I start crying because immediately reminds me of my home country (Colombia). “These feelings, while immediate and in the present, arrive with a past that is never in the past, and engender an indeterminate future. One of the dangers of establishing a binary between affect and emotion” (Springgay & Truman, 2017, p. 45). I understood that this ethnographic experience was beyond objectivity, beyond the binaries of the past and the present, it is closer to home than I thought. It attends to my subjective sensoriality (sensor-reality) of experiencing the city, others, and our unseen relationships.

Remembering

As I was walking through the stalls of the market, I could smell some of the food and there was a distinct smell that brought memories. I needed to find out where this smell was coming from, I walked a few metres following the scent and noticed it was a Vietnamese food stall, and the smell was coming from the fresh rice. I took a wee sniff and immediately brought back memories of when my mother used cloves and garlic when cooking. The cook told me that it was a traditional recipe from his family back in Vietnam. Not only did this bring memories of home but also a connection to family relationships and how important the conversations around meals are for Colombians (Latin Americans) (Casotti, 2006). A similar moment was experienced when I saw green plantains being sold in one of the African stores in the city. It reminded me of Patacones (smashed fried green plantains) and how my walk in the market triggered other connections with other places in the city and transcended the boundaries of physical spaces by taking me back to my home country, its traditions, and relationships. Remembering, here, was an act of interconnecting with others and their cultural practices. I marked this spot on the rough map of that walk with a small star, with the word “patacones?” in pencil. I never found the source, but the smell lingered for three more stalls. My senses were not passive receivers; they were pulling me off my planned route. For Pink (2015), all senses are interconnected, inseparable, subjective, and experiential, thus making them part of a sensing experience that invites researchers to comprehend our perceptions of social, material, and intangible elements of the places we visit in relation to others.

Connecting

Data recorded evidenced of how I sensed or felt the city as a living organism that has the ability to experience and perceive consciousness, including the capacity to feel, perceive, and respond to stimuli. Here, I do not claim that the city possesses biological sentience. Rather, my sensory engagement with Belfast produced experiences of the city as sentient and as some moments of affective resonance I could only describe using animistic language. This is an epistemological claim about how I came to know the city, not an ontological claim about what the city is. Pink (2015) argues that sensory ethnography reveals how researchers and environments co-produce meaning; my “sentient city” language is an attempt to honour that co-production. For me, the city in this state is what I have called the Diver[City], a space and place that acknowledges, welcomes, and celebrates all who inhabit the city. It creates and recreates an intelligent system that is advanced enough to exhibit behaviours and responses that are similar to those of conscious beings.

Following Haraway (2013) and Tsing (2015), I use anthropomorphism strategically, not to deny difference between humans and cities, but to make visible the kinds of attentiveness that extractive methodologies obscure. When I was collecting the data, I remember saying to myself “the city offered me thick descriptions,” and I meant that my embodied, sensory, walking practice generated insights that sitting at a desk or conducting formal interviews could not. The city-as-participant is a pedagogical fiction that helped me listen differently.

Walking and recording the sounds of the city to capture and document how languages and cultures intersect allowed me to understand that the city is not a monolith but an entity with rights and responsibilities for all its inhabitants. According to Lefebvre (1996), the right to the city “manifests itself as a superior form of rights: the right to freedom, to individualization in socialization, to habit and to inhabit” (p. 174). That is, the idea of the urban as the place where differences can come together and generate something new—the level of mediation between the global and the private that has the form of centrality, encounter, and interaction, and how these different aspects are related to each other, and how they are socially produced (Lefebvre, 1992).

With this in mind, I argue that the city as a space is not a concrete monolith nor a living being in which diverse beings inhabit, experience, and change the city itself. I posit that the concept of Diver[City] as a sentient being is used as a performative act of the living creatures that are capable of experiencing and perceiving their surroundings from those who do not necessarily have this human ability, such as plants or inanimate objects (rocks, dirt, pavement etc.). Here, I borrow from my research field notes, I wrote “The Diver[City] is a sentient being where cultures and languages collide.” It is alive, and I sense this as a new home for some and a long dwelling for others, regardless, we all belong and share the endearing space within and its interconnectedness (City centre, Belfast, Northern Ireland, UK, November 14, 2022). I hear and feel the city as it helps me to remember my home country, tradition, and culture but also helps me to connect with others, their cultures, traditions, and ways of being.

To depict this sentiment and attempt to illustrate the ideas, I sorted out to use AI technology to generate images of how I envisioned this diversity, Figure 9 represents the sentiment of the Diver[City] as portrayed by Midjourney (a generative artificial intelligence program and service). The Diver[City] is not static but in a constant movement where bodies collide and carry their hopes, their dreams, their fears and also their lives packed in their suitcases, their baby strollers or shopping bags.OPEN IN VIEWER

The city as a symbolic representation of our connection with others, their languages, cultures, and lives as experienced by my senses (hearing, feeling, and remembering) represents ongoing and almost infinite connections and possibilities of being while interacting with others within the realms of the city. In a sense, the city becomes like “A system can be described as a set of entities that are related to one another and influence one another, and a state of the system is the set of properties of its components at any particular moment in time” (Guastello & Pincus, 2009, p. 244). In the end, I learned “the global is associated with space, capital, history and agency while the local, conversely, is linked to place, labour, and tradition — as well as with women, minorities, the poor and, one might add, local cultures” (Escobar, 2001, p. 155).