InnovaSpace congratulates the hard work and dedication of Space System Engineer Marco Romero and Daniela Barbosa and their team of helpers, who dedicate their own time and resources to promoting science & technology initiatives in Angola and beyond. Well done all on your latest activity to inspire the future space generation!

The Thematic Week to Celebrate Rural and Urban Development and looking at the contribution of the Education sector to sustainable development, saw the launch of 10 Editions of Space Science and Technology Comic Books, produced in Angola.
“Ruvi Humbi” illustrates the life of a girl born and raised in a village in southern Angola. She dreams of reaching the stars but a conflict between the cultural and empirical knowledge of her friend Humbi and the scientific knowledge of her physics teacher makes it difficult to realize her dream of exploring the universe.
“Xiamy” recounts the story of two boys who are invited to travel back in time to use the knowledge they acquired in physics and maths classes to help Punguandongo elders improve space surveillance and planetary defense techniques.
“Katutu – The Space Engineer” - Young Katutu is a dreamer who goes through the phases of discovering his profession. His regular routine of life as a student and homework is interspersed with dreams in which Katutu discovers a robot with whom he learns what it is like to be a Space Systems Engineer and how he can contribute to space science and technology that changes the world.
“Tropa dos Kandengues” - A group of young scientists go on a study trip to the Namibe desert, imagining its dry red landscape to be like a trip to the red planet Mars, and they apply all their knowledge acquired in classes on human and robotic exploration of the Solar System.

Introduction from Eija Salmi, Secretary General, Cumulus Assoc. & Thais Russomano, CEO, InnovaSpace:
During the 21st century outer space has become a topic for discussion by passionate people in design universities worldwide. Some institutions have piloted initiatives and have ongoing activities in the art, design and media curriculum focused on space, considering how design can contribute to overcoming the challenges humanity will encounter when exploring this new frontier. We know for certain that living off-Earth will bring multiple challenges that require innovative solutions if we are to inhabit another planet. The field of design will be an essential element in facilitating space life, just as it is present everywhere in our lives here on Earth, whether on its own or collaboratively with other disciplines, such as medicine, engineering etc. Design education and research plays a massive role not only for the design profession, but also for business, industry and other institutional stakeholders in the space era to ensure a good, healthy and secure space future.

The aim of this blog today, written by Dr Dolly Daou, is to share knowledge and inspire all of us to rise to the challenges of humanity’s tomorrow in outer space – inspired by design. This is the first in a series!
​Enjoy and please do share on your social media!     

On Planet Earth, we have been accustomed to living our lives conditioned by daily habits; we eat, sleep, cook, work, walk, build, interact according to our environments, grounded by gravity. Culturally, we differ in customs, in habits, we eat different food, we live differently, we speak different languages, however what unifies us is the relationship between our physiology and our topography. This relationship is the result of the universal gravity system and the evolution of beings and their environment on Planet Earth, the Blue Planet. The colour blue refers to the interaction of solar rays with the gases of Earth's atmosphere. Similarly, Planet Mars is known as the Red Planet in reference to the mass of red soil that covers its surface. The colour coding of both planets reflects the relationship between our biological existence and our environmental characteristics, which influence our daily habits and our survival traits on these planets.

On Planet Earth, when we travel from a lush green environment to a yellow desert environment, or a blue beach environment, our habits change. We see a change in our built environment, building material, urban landscape, interior living conditions, our diet, temperature, and there will be a change in our physiology, our characteristics, and our daily habits. When designing a habitable environment on Mars, a planet with completely different atmospheric qualities to what we are used to on Earth, adaptation to the new tough living conditions must be taken into consideration for survival purposes - biological, social, and cultural. Hence, self-sufficient cabins and new food ecosystems have been tested in space shuttles and on Mars searching for new short and long-term living solutions. In the 1950s the term “cabin ecology” appeared to describe the interior living system or environment of a space vehicle. Science historian Peder Anker mentions, the design of Cabin ecology, “was to make their [space crew] environment as close as possible to the environment found on the surface of the earth”. Similarly, Suzanne Flinkenflögel mentions the adaptation to living on Mars is similar to adapting to other extreme environments on Earth and architecture has a role to play in designing the living conditions, Flinkenflögel writes: “Much like in Antarctica or aboard the International Space Station, human life is impossible in challenging environments without the aid of life support systems. Keeping a crew alive, comfortable and healthy...”

Since adaptation to the Mars living conditions is impossible in the exterior environment, exploring these interior systems from an interior architecture and design perspective offers a new approach to understand and design new solutions for the Martian daily habits, while respecting our relationships with our new planetary environments.

​So, what happens when we change our living environment from Blue to Red with gravitation difference of 2.66 times on Mars to that of 0.375 on Earth, which is one-third of Earth gravity. On Mars the red soil indicates a high presence of iron oxide chemicals with 96% carbon dioxide, and less than 1% oxygen and 80 degrees Fahrenheit. These tough atmospheric conditions render Mars unhabitable on the exterior for terrestrial beings. However, to survive these conditions we would have to live in supported interior environments and construct artificial ecosystems of air, water and soil in controlled capsules known as, ‘Mars habitats’. Thais Russomano describes the long-term effect of living on Mars and how micro-gravity influences our physiology: “Bones are no longer required to support the weight of bodies as they do on earth and as a result, they begin to lose mass. This effect is seen mostly in the lower limbs where up to 2% of mass a month can be lost in the calcaneus.” In 1976, a feasibility study by NASA revealed that even extremophile organisms, specifically adapted for the Martian environment would take a few thousand years of evolution to be fit to inhabit Mars. Since eating is one of our main biological need for our survival, on Earth we dedicate a large amount of space and time in our cities and in our interior environment for the pleasure of preparing food and of eating. This is why, NASA space missions have been researching and testing new Martian food systems on space shuttles for new short and long-term solutions for food storage, and for a new Martian diets, mainly made from algae and insects.

​Food consumption and production on Mars include conceptual solutions to convert large amounts of carbon dioxide on Mars into oxygen and exploring recycling water for the Martian plants’ habitats. The above picture was shared on Astronaut Scott Kelly’s Instagram for Valentine's Day, who successfully nursed dying space zinnias back to health on the International Space Station using an artificial support ecosystem. From an interior architecture/design perspective, when designing interior spaces, we explore the purpose of the space by researching people’s everyday habits and activities and the relationship between the space and its environment. So, how would the Martian archetypes and typology of artificial ecosystems and habitable spaces/places reflect our new habits in the Martian environment, which include eating and food production? Will we be taking our terrestrial bad habits with us to Mars by exploiting the Martian natural resources? These are open provocative questions to be researched and explored. Although they are rhetorical questions for now they do open the opportunity for a dialogue across professions and across disciplines for the settlement on the new ‘Martian colony’.

In interior architecture/design space and place mean different things. While space is the overall environment (the form or the shape), place is about the experience and the identity. Placemaking is how we transform the space into place, making it our own. We can forever discuss architectural forms and science-fiction buildings that defy gravity and float in space but how will we live, where will we work, eat, sleep, walk or even fly? These intimate details of the everyday construct our placemaking, which contain our cultural habits, and identities. The domed shaped structures of the homes designed by The Line Visualisation architectural studio, reflect the architecture cliché when we dream about science fiction celestial living. This typology might not have been the original intention of the architects, although on Instagram Moon is mentioned under the geolocation of ‘The house in the clouds’, which indicates an intention of a celestial design.

​The above structures express an imaginary dream of transporting our homes and our daily habits to celestial environments with us, as we transport our belonging when we go for a terrestrial holiday. How realistic will this life be on Mars or how relevant will these structures be in the new environment? If we know what our purpose on Mars will be, we will know what and how to design. Since we cannot adapt to the new Martian environment, we are already forcing the environment to adapt to us, hence repeating the same mistakes we are experiencing on Earth. What will our daily habits be on Mars? Will we lie down when we sleep, as we have been accustomed to on earth or will we stand up? Especially that we know with low gravity our muscles will function differently. Although these are scientific and biological questions, I am approaching these questions of survival on Mars from an interior design and a food design perspective to understand how to design our new artificial interior and food ecosystem with low gravity and oxygen.

In our current living environment on Earth our brains have been conditions to live and act in a certain way acquiring cultural living habits over centuries and millions of years of adaptation and evolution to the point that we perform these daily banal tasks automatically. We have learnt to experience our cities on the exterior on a micro and a macro scale. The above image of Hong Kong is a familiar landscape of an urban skyline that we immediately recognise its architype, although we might not know its geolocation, or we might never have visited Hong Kong. We know how to live and build without thinking about essential survival elements, such as oxygen, water, and gravity. We design and live with what we know, based on historical architectural archetypes and typology. We think of gravity when we need to defy it in our architectural creation to make the building look weightlessness or floating in mid-air as shown in the image of the Serpentine Gallery Pavilion. How will we recreate our own Martian place in space? Especially that the colour scheme has already been selected by the red soil and its material condition, which has already determined that we will be living in interior capsules.

​So far designs for the ‘Martian colony’ reveal that we design with what we know, from our existing knowledge and memory, from our experience and since we have not yet experienced life on Mars we will be designing based on our own terrestrial experience. However, we will need to understand more our purpose on Mars and our relationship to the Martian environment to design with respect the eco-systems of ‘the new colony’. By definition ‘colonisation’ mean “the action of appropriating a place or domain for one's own use”. Judging from previous colonisations experiences on earth, will we be imposing our ‘bad habits’ on Mars as we did on Earth repeating the same mistakes by disregarding the existing environment and its original identity? Also, a question has been posed lately by Prince William shouldn’t we fix our problems on earth before we ‘colonise new planets’? Especially, with the ‘Mars habitat’ we will be forcing terrestrial living habits on a new planet with completely different environmental conditions. Our eco-cabins will change the environmental composition of Mars as we are currently doing on Earth. Research is still underway to find solutions for the new Martian colony and only time would tell how we will transform a space into our place. Before we move into Mars, we need to answer clear questions such as: What would be our purpose? And what Martian activities will we be performing everyday? Answering these questions will determine our Martian living lifestyle as aliens on Mars.

The Peoples Republic of China (PRC) is scheduled to complete its first space station in the next two years. With its Tiangong, Chinese Space Station (CSS), China has also raised many questions on how its capabilities are comparable and competitive with the International Space Station (ISS) also due to be decommissioned by 2024. The space race is on, and the CSS is a landmark of independent human flight capability that is just the beginning for China.

In the past ten years of research and development of space technology, China has enjoyed various opportunities to be a superpower in outer space. Steady economic growth rate and increase of its GPD enabling government funding are some of them. It has also developed its own national space technology with spacecraft launching capabilities, and its space activities are in accordance with the current international legal framework.
On October 16, 2021, three Chinese Astronauts in the Shenzhou mission entered the Tiangong for a six month stay, its longest mission in history. China has launched 12 spacecraft, plus the Tiangong 1, and the Tiangong 2 Space Laboratory. The country has trained and sent 11 astronauts to outer space 14 times and returned them safely to Earth. The design life expectancy of the 5-module station is 10 years with possibility of extension.

This week we introduce our readers to an article written by social impact entrepreneur and futurist Thi Hien Nguyen, Director and Creator of SpaceConneX, featuring the Space Show, which was conceived to support the Space4Women initiative of the United Nations Office for Outer Space Affairs (UNOOSA).  

It is a well established fact that the world's population is aging as declining fertility rates and increased longevity lead to a growing proportion of older persons within our society. This creates many new challenges and opportunities for scientists, technologists and entrepreneurs, seeking to improve the aging experience while at the same time harnessing the new business opportunities provided by the expanding longevity industry. Click the link below to gain open access to Nguyen's article and exploration of the components of this emerging sector.

Click this LINK to gain open access to “Hien's" article.

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Final blog from ESA-sponsored Dr Stijn Thoolen, from his series written while spending 12 months at the Concordia research station in Antarctica. Catch up on the rest of his fascinating blogs by following the links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12

It’s midnight. Since our departure some hours ago the sun has steadily moved towards the horizon behind us, and it has started to paint the sky in colours that make me think of winter again. Huge icebergs are slowly passing by, and every once in a while there is a bunch of curious penguins waving us goodbye from their ice floe. Not much earlier I saw a seal chilling, and there have been whales too. In the very far distance I can still recognise the enormous ice mass on which we have been living our lives the past year. It’s my last view of the Antarctic, and it’s perfect.

Standing here alone on the deck of the Astrolabe surrounded by all this beauty I have found myself a special opportunity to appreciate once more where the #$%!! (beep) we have been all this time. It is just so different there on top of the ice, so far away from the rest of the world, that as we are slowly being re-introduced to civilisation I am having a hard time believing it actually happened. With all the changes that we have gone through lately and with all the new impressions time has gone fast, and it has made Concordia feel like a distant, almost unrealistic memory. Like ages ago, even though it has only been eight days since we left…

It started when the ‘orange and fat’ people (and kiwis!) arrived at Concordia about a month ago. With the start of the summer campaign our winterover isolation had come to an abrupt end, and I remember the calm, safe and familiar environment of the ESA lab feeling surprisingly pleasant after some intense hours of new social interactions. As a positive summer energy took hold of the station and fresh ESA MD Nick gradually took over the lab, there was no way for me to hide anymore. Unavoidable steps out of our rigid routines, but at that ‘c’est l’Antarctique’ rate of change that isn’t always easy to keep up with.
Our departure from Concordia last week was much the same. Emotionally numb from a lack of realisation of what was happening (or a lack of sleep the night before…) it just passed by so quickly, and surprisingly smooth. I said my goodbyes without any affection for the tears around me. I gave the station a good last look for the sake of memory. But when the plane started accelerating for lift-off, suddenly that strong desire came up to make it stop and bring me back safely into the station. Apparently part of me wasn’t ready to leave at all. Too big steps too quickly I guess, but lucky for me there were pilots taking care of that...

Then, in the plane already, as we approached the coast, we could feel the air getting denser, and breathing becoming easier. There were thick clouds, the sort of which I hadn’t seen in a year, and in front of us there was so much water. Actual liquid sea water! At Dumont d’Urville we caught up on hours of lost sleep, running did not cost any effort (our bodies’ oxygen transport system had become quite efficient after a year at altitude), and even penguin-watching was a comfort after the complex social dynamics of Concordia. Everything seemed easier here, and it gave us an extraordinary opportunity to process our adaptation to life on ‘Earth’, before continuing our journey homewards.

But it is only now, here on the deck of the Astrolabe in this beautiful, perhaps spiritual moment, that I have taken the time to say goodbye. After all these impressions over the past weeks and finally having finished my last work (yesterday I performed my last round of measurements with the crew, to see how we physically adapt to the sea level environment again), I now realize my great Antarctic adventure is over. Happy with the results of my efforts over the past year, I feel relieved, proud, and incredibly lucky. And as I slowly leave the continent behind me, I also feel more and more ready to look ahead again. The empty (and perhaps COVID-infected) horizon here at sea makes me curious. What will I find there, back home? How will I adapt? What do I bring back from Concordia, and what effect does that have on me and the people at home? Some have warned me the world isn’t the same anymore after all what happened the past year. Others made me rather excited about the increased awareness that I may experience being a true revelation. I guess it will always remain hard to foresee what the future brings, but I find my comfort in the idea that it must be as much an adventure as coming here in the first place!
All the above also means I am writing my last blog entry here. Hopefully you have enjoyed my efforts to share some of my adventure with you. It has been a huge privilege living and working in Concordia. A beautiful and very interesting year that I (already) look back at with much gratitude and satisfaction, and that I imagine to stay with me for a looong looong time. A big thanks to everyone who made this possible and who has supported me along the way, all the very best for Nick and his crew in Concordia the coming year, and as we liked to say up there on the ice: allez-ciaooo!
Signing out from the Astrolabe,
Stijn

A penultimate blog from ESA-sponsored Dr Stijn Thoolen, from his series written while spending 12 months at the Concordia research station in Antarctica. Enjoy the rest of his fascinating blog series by following the links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Today is Sunday. We are on full summer campaign steam for two weeks now. There are about 40 people occupying the station, but today nobody works. Instead, I am wearing three layers on my legs, five on my torso, two pairs of socks, neck warmer, two balaclavas, hat, goggles, glove liners, mittens, radio, and of course my running shoes. I prepared two-and-a-half litres of isotone sport drink and extra electrolyte tablets against the dry desert atmosphere. Extra goggles for when my visor fogs from sweat that cools off in the freeze. Battery-powered heated gloves, air-activated hand- and feet warmers as well as another pair of shoes for when my body becomes unable to pump sufficient blood to my fingers and toes to keep them warm. Bananas and chocolate bars accommodating high energy demands at this altitude and these temperatures. Spare radio battery to make sure I maintain contact with the station. Tape for whatever unforeseen circumstances, and four volunteers and a skidoo standing by to support me with whatever I request.
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Today I am going to run a marathon.

I guess I can sometimes be a bit of a dreamer. Not necessarily in the sense that I tend to lose touch with the world around me in order to float around in some self-invented realm in a galaxy far, far away (no worries, I do that too sometimes), but I do like to fantasise about doing things that are commonly perceived as unachievable. Or at least to say a challenge. Then afterwards I see myself devoting quite some time towards realising (some of) such ideas, because it makes me feel good. Contradicting, right? Well, I have to admit I sometimes do find myself wondering why the … I got myself in an awkward position again, but overcoming a challenge in the end always makes me feel proud, and most importantly the experience that comes with it makes me learn.
As I have probably mentioned in all my previous blogs (hope I am not starting to bore you), I strongly believe that pushing yourself into an unknown (decide for yourself how) and leaving your comfortable space can broaden your horizon. We can allow ourselves to understand the world around us from new perspectives, and see new ways of tackling the difficulties that life will offer us. In that sense, I guess it can make us more resilient. Isn’t that exciting?
It is this curiosity that made me come to Antarctica in the first place, and enjoy the winterover experience that is often said to bring positive psychological impact to those who are able to overcome the challenge of being far from home in isolation and confinement. It is also why I like the bold endeavour of human spaceflight, where we are pushing our scientific and technological limits to get a better view on ourselves. Actually it is why I like science in general. Based on our ideas we make careful steps into the unknown, and then evaluate those steps to learn about the problems that we and our earth face today so that we can try to overcome them. In comparison to all this my undertaking today looks rather pale, but I figured it fits nicely into the theme. A small struggle, but for an enormous reward…
Ever since I have arrived in Antarctica the marathon has been on my list. Preparing for it has been a beautiful way to explore my physical and mental limits, and getting in touch with this strange environment here.

But it has obviously taken some effort to get to the point that I feel capable and confident enough to give this long-distance run a try. You can imagine that the low oxygen levels have required time for my body to transform into a more efficient fuel burner, and I have done plenty of runs outside the previous summer to understand how to dress up to prevent myself from freezing. Previous running experiences such as in humid India and the dry Moroccan Sahara have given me an idea of how to build up my training schedule and manage my fluid intake, and after all those years and kilometres I like to think I gained a reasonable sense of what physical fitness and running pace I need to maintain to prevent hitting the well-known ‘wall’. After all, a challenge can quickly become a danger if it is beyond our capabilities!

So today, after one year Concordia, some 70 running sessions, 200 kilometres in the snow and 850 kilometres on the treadmill I feel ready for it. An exciting long-term effort, that illustrates perhaps how I like to think of Concordia. Like spaceflight, it’s a place for bold endeavours and long-term science, to increase our resilience as a person, as a species, and as a planet, for a better future.
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What do you dream about?

As ESA-sponsored Dr Stijn Thoolen comes closer to the end of his year at the Concordia research station in Antarctica, he begins to reflect on his experiences of the last year and the journey homewards. Enjoy the rest of his fascinating blog series by following the links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

It’s 1:00 AM. I am lying outside on the roof, together with Ines (glaciologist), Elisa (cook) and Andrea (vehicle mechanic). There is a full moon shining on us, and Mars is right next to it. I am not much of an astronomer, but its bright color stands out so clearly from all the other celestial objects that even I can recognize it instantly as the Red Planet. Looking to the southwest I see Jupiter and Saturn. Also pretty hard to miss. Usually that is where I find the Milky Way, but there is too much light now, even at this hour. An amber color brightens the horizon, beyond which I now realize again there are just so many miles of ice (something easily taken for granted here, but thinking back to that inbound flight to Concordia last year does the trick) separating us from the rest of the world. In front of it all, I look at the frosty metal bars, which always looked so surrealistic to me when I saw pictures of them back home. They have gone through winter as well…

The return of the sun was cool. ‘Here comes the sun’ (you know, that one from the Beatles) was heard all over the station while we impatiently and excitedly tried to catch a first glimpse of it mid-August. Since that moment the skies have become more and more blue, and the snow more and more bright. I have experienced the gradual return of daylight over the past weeks with a positive and fresh feeling, and a sense of anticipation has started to take hold of the station. Who are the people who will replace us? What are our plans after Concordia? I remember myself some weeks ago, lying in exactly the same position as I am right now, outside against a snow dune, sheltered from the wind and with a pleasant -50 degrees Celsius (I realize this perception must be taken relatively…), alone, and just letting the sunshine touch my face again. A special moment, that reminded me of how pleasant summer conditions are going to be.

But funny enough now, here on that roof, I actually recognize myself trying to enjoy the last bits of darkness instead. Winter is over, and the light at the horizon is making sure I realize it. It makes me think of those unbelievable starry skies that I will probably never see again. Clear, twinkling, full of ‘falling stars’, here and there a satellite passing by, and dominated by the humbling Milky Way and it’s two neighbouring Magellanic Clouds, which are actually other galaxies we gazed at with our naked eye! Being outside at night has been an impressive experience, every time again. I remember the pictures I tried to make some time ago, outside on my slippers, with pain in my toes and barely feeling my hands, but all overruled by the excitement to capture all those incredible stars and some vague aurora dancing around it. I am probably going to miss the night sooner than I sometimes like to think…

As a crew we have made wonderful memories as well. This evening for example I think we all felt that. We organized an ESA quiz some hours ago, revealing some particular results from the human research we have been doing here (‘Who lost the most weight?’, ‘How much DC16-poop will be sent back to Europe?’, ‘What is the most recurring motive on food pictures: pasta, pies, or middle fingers?’, you get the idea…), and reminding ourselves of some good moments we had this past year. Not just happy birthdays or rather inspiring Saturday night dance moves on ridiculous music in the living room disco, but much more sharing an extraordinary experience that only a handful of people will ever be able to grasp in its entirety, and perhaps most of all (and probably as a result of the latter) an endless amount of inside jokes. So different in nature, but unified through our experience.
​Lying here, thinking about all these special moments and happy memories, I feel inspired and incredibly lucky to witness all this. An incredible place to teach us about the world we live in, and a beautiful moment of realization to which I decide to hold on as much as I can under the rising pressure of the upcoming summer. I wish I could share it with the people at home…
How will it be to go back home? Maybe not that easy after all. The experiences we undergo here are intense, and it may actually be a challenge to make others at home understand what we have gone through, and make them feel the way we have felt. I will miss the night. I will miss our shared experiences. Left alone with those strong memories once we reintegrate into our old lives, Concordia may be hard to let go of. Perhaps Concordia now may become the place where we feel better understood, and I guess it is for this reason that many eventually make the decision to go back. Our Italian station leader appropriately calls it ‘mal d’Antartide’. Having been here four times now, he understands as no other this strong feeling of nostalgia for Antarctica.