One day, as a recent graduate from architecture school with no clear direction, I felt the need to find a project that would reflect the true essence of architecture as an agent of change. My search led me to Rumipamba, a rural parish in Rumiñahui, near Quito. There, I discovered a community that, throughout its history, had never had a church, and whose fading faith was becoming increasingly evident over time.
Arriving with the desire to embark on a project, we were warmly welcomed. This non-profit endeavor had a single purpose: to reaffirm the power of architecture to create spaces that transform realities. The process was marked by a series of five meetings with the community, each one a crucial step in bringing the project to life.
In the first meeting, we approached the local authorities to present the vision. In the second, 15 community members gathered to listen and share their perspectives. The third was a participatory design workshop with the entire community, where we designed tools that helped us understand their worldview of God and the meaning of a church to each person, as well as identify their needs. The fourth meeting allowed us to return with a more defined project, to receive feedback and make adjustments. Finally, in the fifth meeting, the community approved the project with satisfaction.
The resulting architectural design is nothing more than a physical manifestation of the future users' worldview. This project is based on a design deeply responsible to its social and cultural context. We chose to use earth walls, not only as a tribute to the vernacular knowledge of the region but also as a way to take advantage of local resources and reduce costs. The main premise of the space is simple yet powerful: to create a place where one can speak with God.
One of the biggest challenges of the project has been the lack of budget, the very reason why the community had not been able to build a church until now. This reality led us to develop a design consistent with the economic situation of the inhabitants. The interior space of the temple is minimal, optimized for the neighbors' use, but it includes a dual-function altar, oriented both inward and outward. This strategy allows the church to host large events when necessary, utilizing the surrounding environment.
The interior of the temple is conceived as a sensory journey. One enters through a transitional space, narrow and dark, that opens into the main hall, where the altar, bathed in natural light, evokes the presence of God descending to the earthly plane. The altar features three steps, symbolizing the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, while a local wooden lattice allows light to enter softly.
On the exterior altar, two wooden beams, one vertical and the other horizontal, intersect at a precise angle, forming a cross visible only from the exact point where the altar stands, transforming the exterior into an equally divine space. This project, more than just a construction, is a testament to how architecture can connect people with the sacred, using what they have at their disposal and honoring their cultural identity.
