F.U.B.U.
For us, by us.
This is the colloquial term that came to mind when I first heard of a magical town in Colombia–the town of Palenque de San Basilico (or Palenge in the language of Palenquero). Palenque is understood to be the first free town in all of the Americas. The ancestors of its inhabitants were brought (predominantly from West Africa) by European slavers to Puerto Negrero (Slave Port) in Cartagena, Colombia between the years of 1570-1640. Being stripped of their original languages, cultures, traditions, and identities, it was here that they were placed for sale and suffered unimaginable horrors.
In the early 1600s, a man by the name of Domingo Benkos Biohó decided his people were finished suffering. He led a purported 30 slaves from the city of Cartagena, through undeveloped forest and swampland, and into the foothills of Montes de María. The story goes that their European slavers attempted to go after and catch the escaped slaves, but were unable to endure the rough terrain. As a result, Benkos Biohó and the other slaves were never caught. Thus, the first free town in the Americas was established.
In August of this year, I had the opportunity to visit Palenque for myself. My time there was like nothing else. Palenque is a community ripe with history, culture, and warmth. The Palenqueros are Afro-descendants, with most of them able to trace their ancestry to the African countries of Angola, Congo, and Senegal. With a current population of approximately 5,000 people, the town is a little over an hour south of Cartagena. It was fascinating to observe how connected they are with their African heritage. As a community, they have created their own language, customs, and traditions. Named a UNESCO Masterpiece of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity, the story of Palenque is one that deserves to be heard by the world.
“We are not a town, we are a community.”
These were the words of our engaging tour guide during my visit to Palenque. The town felt exactly as he had described: a close-knit community of extended family. As our guide led us through the town, my eyes were immediately drawn to the street art. Similar to art born out of the Black Arts Movement here in the United States, it was an expression of freedom and life. One colorful wall painting featured young girls playing soccer. Another featured a beautiful brown-skinned lady with a big afro.
As we strolled the well-paved roads, distracted only by the beaming sun above, our guide gave us some insight: Palenque is not under the jurisdiction of the city of Cartagena. Meaning, they have their own legal system. What is fascinating about this system is that they do not have a police force. Instead, they have a group of men from the community who assume the role of peacemakers. Having no weapons, they employ the use of nonviolent methods to de-escalate situations and maintain harmony. This reminded me of the practices of many traditional African communities who look to the elders to keep the community safe.
Our next stop was a museum in the center of the town. This space is dedicated to the authentic portrayal of Palenquero history and is only sustained by donations. On our way to the museum, passing the occasional piglet or goat, we came across an elderly lady seated on her porch selling plantains. As we approached, I felt a spirit of warmth and love exuding from this lady I didn’t even know. What I found out was that she was something of an icon in Palenque. She was known, in her day, to be the best fish cook in town. She was one of those ladies that everybody knew and adored. We talked with her and bought a few plantains to enjoy later.
When we got to the museum, a building laid out in the fashion of the town’s earlier years, we were given an overview of town’s history. My favorite part of the museum was a little room containing large photos of various braided hairstyles. The museum curator went through each of the hairstyles and explained its unique purpose and meaning. One intricate style was created to be used as a map for slaves escaping the city of Cartagena. The braids represented roads and pathways. Another style, single loose braids, represented the freedom they found in establishing Palenque. A third style (my personal favorite), was a style that featured a braided heart on the side of the head. This style was done when a woman was unable to freely express her love to someone. This originated during a time when African slaves were bred like cattle and prevented from experiencing true romantic love. This would be a woman’s way of letting her lover know, simply, that she loved him. This particular style brought tears to my eyes.
Our guide then led us to a hut-like edifice covered with leaves where the community’s traditional doctors practiced. A serious-looking man, wearing a crossbody bag and leopard print pants held up a glass container. Enclosed in the container was a mixture of herbs and roots in water. He walked us through the use for each of the mixes and added that one mix, in particular, had saved the community from experiencing a Covid-19 outbreak. During the pandemic, nobody in Palenque died because of the virus.
Our last stop was a colorful building that served as a cultural learning center, music center, and souvenir shop. As we walked in, the sound of cheerful, young children filled the space. They were learning a song in Palenquero, the town’s traditional creole language–which is a combination of Spanish, French, Portuguese, and two Bantu languages. It is here where we met a leading member of the Palenque-based recording group Kombilesa Mí. He gave us the history behind a genre created by the group, called Rap Folklorico Palenquero. The genre is rooted in resistance and functions to give a voice to the creativity, culture, and aspirations of the Palenqueros.
In reflecting on my time in Palenque, I am overcome by a great sense of pride. It is deeply touching to see a community with the same origins as my maternal ancestors thriving in the freedom they created and maintained for themselves. What’s more is that they have been able to retain cultural and community practices that have been passed on from generation to generation. This sense of community is often something very hard to obtain among many North American Black communities, and should be studied as a model by which we can begin to uplift ourselves for future generations. "For us, by us" does not need nor does it intend to be a separator. It is a phrase to empower and evoke ownership. So as the community peacemakers, the fish cook, and the herbal healer take responsibility for their community, the community thrives and continues to be a haven for generations to come.
The Student Movement is the official student newspaper of Andrews University. Opinions expressed in the Student Movement are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editors, Andrews University or the Seventh-day Adventist church.