Written by Jasbeth Medrano, (University of Texas at San Antonio), Student Correspondent for CET Colombia, Spring 2025
Palenque: Nombre masculino – Lugar alejado y de difícil acceso en el que se refugiaban los esclavos negros fugitivos.
In a general sense, this definition is accurate: a palenque is technically a geographically hard to reach place in which black slaves would seek refuge.
However, there are a couple things wrong about it. For starters, on our initial tour of San Basilio, Roiman, our incredibly charismatic and knowledgeable tour guide, explained to us that the difference between “slaves” and “enslaved people” is that the word “slave” is passive, and denies ancestors of their agency as they protested their conditions. “Enslaved person/people” challenges the notion that Black people accepted their situation, and actively sought freedom.
Language matters. In the same way that three years ago, after reading “An Open Letter to Our Friends on the Question of Language,” I stopped using harmful language to refer to incarcerated people, I made the switch to only using the words “enslaved people.”
But, what the definition also failed to make note of was the resistance and strength that palenques have demonstrated in preserving ancestral traditions. For example, throughout our stay, we learned a couple of words in Palenquero, which was a blend of African languages, such as Kikongo, Spanish, English, French and Portuguese. During our trip, we learned that schools in Palenque have embedded the language into the curriculum to instill it onto younger generations. Similarly, we learned about different practices such as using hairstyles as maps, what a typical large meal may look like for people working outside and some of the tools that Palenqueros used in their everyday life (water jugs made of clay to keep their water cold).
During this time, we were hosted by the most amazing host mom. She made sure we were well-fed and comfortable during our visit.
My favorite portion of the trip was definitely our visit to La Guardia Cimarrona, a self-organized communal security organization that values restoring the harms caused by certain actions. As a proponent of restorative and transformative justice, I appreciated seeing a functional justice system in action and gave me confidence that it is possible to create a system that values repairing relationships. Though they told us that crime wasn’t a huge concern for the community, the consequences to wrongdoings typically looked like holding a “trial,” in which they compile information and seek all sides of the store, and then deciding an appropriate response that will directly mend the harms caused (i.e. returning stolen items/offering a similar financial compensation), as well as community work.
After our time in San Cipriano, we took a short bus ride to La Boquilla. La Boquilla is a small town located right outside of Cartagena with a beautiful coast that used to sustain itself with fishing. However, due to state imposed development, this community was forced to turn to Eco-Tourism as their primary form of income. At La Boquilla, my cohort got the opportunity to explore the beach and just spend time with each other. It was fantastic.
Aside from beach time, we got the opportunity to go fishing and to catch crabs. I fear I was not the best at it, since I am super squeamish, but getting to see the methods used by fishermen in La Boquilla was cool. We also saw how the crabs were cooked and got to taste our earnings.
Though, my favorite activity was by far the drumming session/impromptu dance party. When we went to a local music/folklorico school in La Boquilla, we got a small exposition of la cultura Costeña, with some classic cumbia and champeta. We then learned how to drum, and since everyone in my program is a dancer, a dance party was just inevitable.
Unfortunately, we did not spend too much time at La Boquilla, since shortly after we left to the city center of Cartagena! After having been tourists in smaller communities, Cartagena was definitely a bit of a culture shock! Particularly, we all made note about how strange it was to hear so many people speaking in English after only having heard Spanish for the past couple of months. Of course, we did all of the touristy things during our free time, such as exploring Getsemani and el Centro Historico, but I want to highlight two experiences from being in Cartagena: Visiting the Nelson Mandela Neighborhood and learning how to walk runway with Voguing en el Aleteo.
The Nelson Mandela Neighborhood is a brick and mortar demonstration of resistance and human innovation. A result of displacement from the armed conflict, this community has found ways to sustain itself with little to no government assistance. I particularly loved visiting the park, that serves as a community center where events happen to bring everyone together.
Aside from getting to learn about the community, we were also greeted with a show that students at the school had prepared for us. They were all so talented! We danced, sang and exchanged a little bit of our culture with them. Honoring my Mexican culture, I sang “Los Laureles” and “La Tequilera”, paying tribute to my years as a Mariachi. Talking to the kids and the staff about their life made me miss being in a small school where everyone knew each other.
My other favorite activity in Cartagena was when we did a runway workshop with Voguing en el Aleteo, an LGBTQ+ youth organization seeking to make visible queer history and advance queer rights. We channeled our inner divas and had so much fun learning how to highlight our favorite features when we walk. Seriously, we had so much fun.
Overall, the Traveling Seminar was such a great way to see the implications of everything we have been learning in class. What I loved most was CET’s commitment to supporting Black businesses during our stay, and our coordinator’s intentionality when deciding our activities. Kudos to everyone who organized this trip, it was a life-changing experience.
Oh yeah, and song for this entry: “El Muñeco de la Ciudad” by Bobby Valentin