I went back for the culture
Like I mentioned previously I wasn’t done with Cartagena.
This time round I stayed in a hostel in Getsemani. I took the Marsol minibus which picked me up from my accommodation in Santa Marta and dropped me in the centre of Cartagena within 4hrs. Much better than the 6hr journey I took in the opposite direction. One thing, about meeting people, you will get tips on how to make your travel more efficient.
Getsemani is lively and has a different vibe to the old town. More live music, more places with local food and more art and colours. And of course Calle de Las Sombrillas. Street of the Umbrellas.
But strolling through the Old Town felt a bit different this time round. Maybe because it was filled of festive lighting and decorations. Nevertheless, I was always happy to just get lost in these streets.
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On my stroll. I met Benedicto, a street vendor selling cigars. From Cartagena but with a suspiciously neutral accent for a Costeño. From answering ‘not really’ to the question of ‘do you know the history of Cartagena?’.. I was given a personal tour through the old town and an overview of the Palenquero culture, which was surprisingly similar to that of the Wayuu community. He was so smooth with the transition from cigar seller to tour guide that the tip I gave was beyond worth it.
Cartagena is hot and humid so I often didn’t leave the hostel until after 15:00. On the Friday I went to watch the sunset at Castilo San Felipe by foot. It was about 15mins away from where I was staying but you had to cross a bridge.
As soon as the bridge is crossed you enter a part of Cartagena that was just real life. With real people going about their business. The change in feel was pretty abrupt and you very quickly see what the city is like for its people.
The views at the castle made a fantastic photo opp. Especially with the evening sun. Again, I had to get out of my head to either ask people, and direct, or perch my phone to take pictures of me.
After being harassed by IG story ads of Cafe Havana Cartagena, I just had to pay it a visit. Before then, I went to a nearby bar where I had to let my guard down when my hand was taken in invitation of a dance.
Cafe Havana had amazing performances from talented artists. The vibe was on point and everyone was stepping and swirling on the dance floor. The IG algorithm was on job unfortunately I didn’t stay too long because I had a tour to Palenque booked for the next morning.
The real reason I came back.. Palenque!
Being African, it didn’t feel right to go to Cartagena and not visit Palenque, the first town free of slavery in the Americas located about 50km from Cartagena. Never in a million years did I think that there would be a connection between Miss Chiquita (Chiquita bananas) and the Palenqueras.
I have been to Cape Coast and Elmina Castle in Ghana a number of times, and there are always African American people as part of the group who are, understandably, angered and emotive as they see and are confronted with part of their history. I felt emotions too but the way history has it, our ancestral paths are different therefore the extent of their emotion is not something I can relate to. However, when visiting Palenque, literally seeing a piece of Africa in the Americas, something moved me.
The people, the art, the dance, the houses, the language, the idea of having elders, the food preparation, maintenance, and practice of their religion the hard-working women traveling to the city selling produce on their heads. Their history is so rich and preserved and it warmed my heart that it is protected too.
When visiting Cartagena, especially as a black person, I can’t stress the importance of visiting Palenque. The organisation that I went with was very knowledgeable and considerate of our comfort with regard to the weather. AC, fans, and water were on deck as well as an accommodation pick-up and drop-off. Black Legacy Excellence is their name.
That evening I had arranged with my new dancing buddy to go out so I could practise my salsa. Unfortunately, my stomach failed me in the most embarrassing ways. Let’s just say from both ends and in public. I have never felt so mortified in my adult life. The next 36hr hours were spent between the bed and the bathroom. For my luck, the hostel had very clean facilities but it didn’t stop me from feeling and looking like crap. I had completely lost my appetite in fear of my stomach not holding it and I constantly had the sweats. It is during times like these, that one really appreciates good health and just needs to give thanks on a daily basis.
I had a funny thought.. you know how we were younger we pretty much thought our parents were superhumans. In sickness and in health, they always managed to get things done. Feeling the way that I did.. I don’t how I managed to pack my things, fly to Medellin, do groceries, and cook rice and stew. Often when I get a thought like this, I pick up the phone and thank my mother.
