Gentrification in Cartagena.

— noun —

1. The processes whereby the character of a poor urban area is changed by wealthier people moving in, improving housing, and attracting new businesses, typically displacing current inhabitants in the process.

2. The processes of making someone or something more refined, polite, or respectable.

Gestemaní has always been considered the poor part of Cartagena’s historic old town. What Brooklyn and the Bronx represent to uptown Manhattan, Getsemani is to Centro. 

Its intricate streets have historically been home to artisans, descendants of slaves, and merchants ready to do business in and around the old market, which was originally located where the Cartagena Convention Center now stands.

By the 1970s, the neighborhood (or El Barrio) had become the new problem for Cartagena's moneyed elites who had already abandoned the poorly lit streets of the historic center for elegant mansions in Manga and modern beachfront properties in Bocagrande and Castillogrande. 

After the “problematic” Chambacú neighborhood was raised, insecurity, drug addiction, and prostitution found their way to Getsemani, creating an ugly reputation for historic Getsemani.

While few people wanted to live in Getsemani 25 or 30 years ago, with the exception of a handful of bohemian artists in search of cheap rents, fearless backpackers undeterred by Colombia’s notorious “mala fama” or bad rep and a chance to mix it up with the fun-loving locals.

Since Cafe Havana opened its doors in 2006, Getsemani has become the jewel in the crown for real estate investors piling in to buy up a piece of the neighborhood’s colorful heritage. 

After being dubbed one of the coolest neighborhoods in the world by influential magazines like Conde Nast Traveller it propelled property prices into the stratosphere, converting Getsemani into one of the hottest real estate markets in Latin America, according to Forbes magazine in 2014.

With every house that’s bought by foreign or local contemporary colonials to convert it into a bar, hotel, or hostel, of course, a little bit of the neighborhood’s charm dies with it.

Miguel Caballero was born in Getsemani. He is the co-founder and director of the Gimaní Cultural Foundation. He’s been working for the social transformation of his community since the late 1980s.

Miguel is Getsemanicense first. Cartagenan second. An economist by profession, he’s most passionate about the legacy and preservation of the cultural riches of his neighborhood. Joined by Deila Zapata Olivella, Pedro Blas Julio, and other important figures in the neighborhood, they created El Cabildo de Getsemaní, an organization that celebrates the neighborhood’s traditions.

In recent years, through alliances with different organizations that work to preserve the customs of this emblematic district, they have turned the spotlight on the issue of gentrification.

“Before in Getsemaní, the risk was that they would rob you in the street. Today the risk is that you have to leave your home because gentrification has advanced at an unstoppable rate. Nobody here can live in a house that costs 13 million pesos (US$3,300) in rent a month” says Caballero.

In this colorful neighborhood, a plot of land of 4,000 sq m can cost $28,000,000,000 million Colombian pesos or US$7.2 million with 1 square m valued at more than USD$1,800.

Something similar has already happened in other neighborhoods of the walled center such as San Diego and Santo Domingo and is also happening in communities outside the walled city, such as La Boquilla and Torices.

Curiously, while years ago the stigma protected this community, maintaining the best-kept secret in Cartagena, today speculators are raffling Getsemani. The growing housing bubble of the last two decades threatens to exile those who have historically inhabited this suburb. If this happens, we will have admitted a painful and regrettable defeat at the hands of gentrification. Another Disneyland was built for ‘tourists’. 

“The real estate bubble in recent years has raised public services. They have made a life around money and those who have nothing to do with the obligation to leave. That is why today there are not many of us left, but what we do, we make those who left come back,” concludes Caballero.

Miguel assures that he will never leave his home. He and the group of residents born in this barrio of Cartagena will leave it when they stop breathing. They are reluctant to leave the place that has given them so many joys, sorrows, loves, and even disappointments.

Worth Exploring:

Soy Getsemanicense

Getsemani’s National Anthem by Sonora Dinamita. 

Published: 23.08.2021

Text by: Emilio Cabarcas
Bio of Emilio Cabarcas

Photos: Rainbow Nelson
Bio of Rainbow Nelson