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Exploring the centrality and constraints of the body: walking ethnography in Comuna 13 of Medellín

Explorando a centralidade e as limitações do corpo: etnografia a pé na Comuna 13 de Medellín
Claudio Riga

Resumos

Este artigo explora a centralidade e as limitações do corpo dentro de um estudo etnográfico realizado na Comuna 13 de Medellín, Colômbia. Por um lado, o autor destaca as vantagens de empregar etnografias a pé para gerar conhecimento corpóreo, situado e “emplaced”. Por outro lado, o autor reconhece as limitações inerentes de depender exclusivamente do corpo para navegar na complexa interação entre forças estruturais e experiências vividas. Para abordar isso, ele propõe integrar a abordagem fenomenológica com a “teoria do agenciamento.” Ao combinar essas duas abordagens, este artigo tem como objetivo contribuir para as discussões sobre o corpo e oferecer insights valiosos para estudiosos interessados em estudos urbanos.

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Notas da redação

Recebido: 19/04/2024
Aceito: 31/03/2025

Data availability
The research data are available in the body of the document.

Editors
Ceres Víctora – https://orcid.org/0000-0001-9363-3883
Jean Segata –
https://orcid.org/0000-0002-2544-0745
José Miguel Olivar –
https://orcid.org/0000-0002-7648-7009
Sahra Gibbon –
https://orcid.org/0000-0002-5185-9750

Texto integral

Introduction

1In this paper I explore the centrality, as well as the limits, of the body in my ethnographic fieldwork in Comuna 13 of Medellín, Colombia. One of Medellín’s 16 comunas, Comuna 13 has a complex past marked by state neglect, violence, and conflict. Long considered as one of Medellín’s most dangerous areas, it has undergone a significant transformation since 2010, when it became a popular and safe tourist destination. This shift is largely attributed to the vibrant street art scene that took place in its public spaces. From May 2022 to April 2023, as a PhD student in Social Anthropology, I was in Comuna 13 for studying the impact of street art in the “transformation” of the comuna and in the life experiences of its residents. During the fieldwork, I realized that the body served as the primary epistemological tool, enabling me to immerse myself in the world of Comuna 13 and to trigger from the participants an embodied, situated, and “emplaced” knowledge: a type of knowledge that emerged from the places themselves, through the movement of the body, while walking.

2The phenomenological tradition placed great emphasis on the movement of the body as the experience through which we understand the world (Landgrebe, 1973). Anthropological attention to the body began as early as the pioneering studies of Marcel Mauss (1934). However, it was only in the early 1990s, with Thomas Csordas’s (1994) proposal of the embodiment paradigm, that the body started to be considered not only as an object of research but also as the subject of ethnographic understanding. Feminist’s theories accentuated on how the researcher’s own body influences the entire research and ethnographic writing (Nascimento, 2019). The increasing attention on the body has informed research methodologies that rely on bodily movement through urban spaces, supported by audiovisual tools, to evoke memories, experiences, and thoughts in participants (Eckert; Rocha, 2003; Irving, 2007; Pink, 2007).

3Nevertheless, during my research in Comuna 13, while acknowledging the centrality of embodied methodologies, I also had to recognize that relying solely on the body would have prevented me from observing the intricate interplay between structural forces and lived experiences. In other words, focusing solely on the embodied experience was obscuring my understanding of how these structural forces influence and interact with the embodied experiences of the inhabitants. To avoid running this risk, it was useful to view Comuna 13 through the lens of the “assemblage theory.” Drawing on Gilles Deleuze’s (Deleuze; Guattari, 1987) philosophy, the concept of “socio-spatial assemblage” refers to a whole that emerges from the interactions of its parts (Dovey, 2010). So, Comuna 13 is a whole composed of its parts – streets, buildings, people, and so on – but it is also a part that assembles with others to form a larger whole – the city of Medellín, the department of Antioquia, the country of Colombia, and so on. Assemblage theory focuses on the relationships between those parts. This perspective enabled me to analyze not just the impact of street art through the participants’ life experiences, but also to observe how these experiences must inevitably intertwine with political-economic structures on multiple scales. I believe that the combination of these two approaches – one phenomenological, rooted in embodied experiences, and the other grounded in assemblage theory, which pays attention to connections between parts – can enrich the debate on the body while also offering valuable insights to scholars engaged in urban studies.

  • 1 Julieth and Luis are pseudonyms as agreed upon with the participants through informed consents.

4The paper is structured as follows. In the first section, I provide a brief demographical, geographical, and historical overview of Comuna 13. In the second section, I introduce the concept of embodiment from a phenomenological perspective. In the third section, I discuss the development of walking (and photographing) ethnography. In the fourth section, I briefly examine the use of photography in anthropology. In the fifth section, I describe how I used walking and photographing as ethnographic techniques in Comuna 13, including two interviews with residents Julieth and Luis.1 In the sixth section, I analyze these interviews. In the final section, I reflect on the limitations of the body, introducing the “assemblage theory”, and highlighting the need for additional approaches and sources to achieve a more comprehensive understanding of the research questions.

Comuna 13

5Comuna 13, also known as San Javier, is one of the 16 comunas (districts) in Medellín, the capital of the department of Antioquia, and Colombia’s second most populous city. In recent years, it has experienced a remarkable decrease in violence, to the extent of prompting someone to use the expression “the Medellín miracle” (Maclean, 2015). In fact, since the 1980s, Medellín was considered as one of the most dangerous cities in the world. The violence perpetrated by the notorious drug trafficker Pablo Escobar and his Cartel, along with violence carried out by paramilitaries, guerrillas, popular militias, and law enforcement, was endemic, creating a situation where violence had become “banal” (Pécaut, 1999). For years, Comuna 13 held the unfortunate distinction of being considered as Medellín’s most dangerous area.

6Comuna 13 is situated on the western-central periphery of Medellín. It spans 74.2 square kilometers, encompassing 23 neighborhoods and housing over 140,000 residents. The terrain is rugged, especially in the west, where it reaches 1,650 meters above sea level. This harsh landscape is reflected in neighborhoods like Las Independencias I and II, built on steep slopes classified as high-risk areas. Comuna 13’s origins lie in the violent displacement that gripped Colombia during La Violencia (1946-1958), a period during which around 2 million people were forcibly displaced, mostly from rural areas to cities (Oquist, 1978). Fleeing clashes between the Liberal and Conservative Parties, populations of peasants, indigenous, and afro descendants, especially from Chocó, Urabá, and the Bay of Antioquia, sought refuge in what was then an empty outskirt of Medellín (Sisbén, 2020). With the continuous arrival of new displaced people, those initial settlements quickly turned into “barrios de invasión”, neighborhoods built without any urban planning or legal permits. Like numerous barrios de invasión in Colombian cities, they were entirely forgotten by the State, lacking access to public services, proper infrastructure, and public safety. This state of neglect created a vacuum, paving the way for the emergence of the first Popular Militias in the late 1980s, and the arrival of armed counterinsurgency groups – Fuerzas Armadas Revolucionarias de Colombia (FARC), Ejército de Liberación Nacional (ELN), and Comandos Armados del Pueblo (CAP)– in the mid-1990s (Centro de Fe y Culturas et al., 2021). Between 2000 and 2002, in an attempt to reclaim control over the territory, the Colombian government launched 24 military operations, transforming Comuna 13 into the battleground of an urban war. Two of these operations are particularly remembered for their indiscriminate violence against the civilian population: Operation Mariscal and Operation Orion. The latter, carried out by the government of President Alvaro Uribe, with the support of an illegal paramilitary group, Bloque Cacique Nutibara, achieved the goal of dislodging the guerrillas, but at a devastating human cost in terms of death, casualties, disappearances, and displacement among the civilians (Amnesty International, 2005). While some praise Operation Orion as successful for allowing the State to establish control over the comuna (Drummond; Dizgun; Keeling, 2019), others highlight the enduring and traumatic human and social costs borne by the local community (Bernal Franco; Navas Caputo, 2013).

7In 2008, Medellín’s municipal government embarked on an ambitious urban renewal project. A key intervention, implemented under the administrations of Alonso Salazar (2008-2011) and Anibal Gaviria (2012-2015), involved the revitalization of public spaces through the construction of public parks, schools, libraries, universities, and a now-iconic escalator system in Las Independencias I. However, these interventions, while lauded by urban planners and politicians as a success, have drawn criticism from academics. Some argue the project prioritized attracting foreign investment over promoting residents’ “right to the city” (Lees; Slater; Wyly, 2010; Sklair, 2010). Others question whether physical improvements alone can truly address deep-rooted issues of inequality and exclusion (Hylton, 2007). Others underscore that, despite Medellín receiving accolades like the Urban Land Institute’s 2013 award for most innovative city, problems of violence, displacement, and poverty persist in many comunas, including Comuna 13 (Maclean, 2015; Sotomayor, 2017; Young, 2019).

8Meanwhile, both local and non-local street artists, most of whom related to the hip hop movement, began to populate the public spaces of the comuna. Breakdancers, DJs, and rappers began to perform in the streets, while graffiti artists began to produce a large quantity of artworks on the walls. Most of these artworks painted on the walls reproduced and shaped the history and collective memory of the community (Restrepo Cadavid, 2013), while at the same time, they played a pivotal role in driving the tourism industry and commercial activities (Gaviria Puerta, 2019). Indeed, by the mid-2010s, Comuna 13, and in particular Las Independencias I and II neighborhoods, became one of Medellín’s main tourist destinations, attracting over 1.6 million visitors in 2022.

From the body to embodiment

9Medical anthropologist Thomas Csordas (1994, p. 4) argues that, since the 1970s, many scholars have tried to redeem the body without sufficiently considering the sense of corporeality in their analyses, and so studying the body while still taking it for granted. This tendency carried the risks of neglecting the body’s potential as a methodological tool and objectifying it as a thing devoid of agency. However, Csordas believes that the distinction between the body as an empirical thing or an analytical subject and embodiment as the existential basis of culture and the self is critical. Hence the need to shift attention from the body to embodiment. Embodiment is a radically material condition of the human being that necessarily involves both body and consciousness, objectivity and subjectivity, in an irreducible assemblage (Sobchack, 2004, p. 4). Feminist theory has also made significant contributions to the study of the body, as both subject and object. This tradition reflects on the centrality of the body, of both participants and researcher, emphasizing how the physical and material presence of the researcher’s body – shaped by past experiences, historical context, and theoretical choices – inevitably influences the research process as well as ethnographic writing (Nascimento, 2019).

10The philosophical tradition of phenomenology has also paid particular attention to the body. Existential phenomenology is a style that emphasizes a certain interpretation of human experience and that, in particular, refers to perception and bodily activity (Ihde, 1990). Thus, phenomenological research focuses on the phenomena of experience as spatial and temporal embodiment and pays attention to the relationship between experience and movement. The founder of modern phenomenology Edmund Husserl described the kinesthetic movement of our bodily sensory organs as the experience through which we understand the world in relation to our body (Landgrebe, 1973). According to Maurice Merleau-Ponty (1945), leading exponent of French phenomenology, the movement of the body not only generates experience, but also knowledge, a type of knowledge that, as philosopher Edward Casey (1993) argues, arises from the place itself.

Walking (and photohraphing) ethnographies

11The phenomenological approach has led to the rise of walking (and photographing) ethnographies. Undoubtedly, anthropology has a rich tradition of fieldwork conducted on foot. References to walking pervade the works of Marcel Mauss, William Foote Whyte, Jane Jacobs, Colin Turnbull, Elijah Anderson, Pierre Bourdieu or, most notably, Michel de Certeau (Pink et al., 2010). However, only recently walking itself has been discussed as a distinct ethnographic technique. This shift was driven, for example, by the work of Tim Ingold and Jo Lee Vergunst (2008). Based on phenomenology, their aim is to

Embed our ideas of the social and the symbolic within the immediate day-to-day activities that bind practice and representation, doing, thinking and talking, and to show that everything takes place, in one way or the other, on the move (Ingold; Vergunst, 2008, p. 3).

12As Ingold (2010, p. S121) concludes, “it is by walking along from place to place, and not by building up from local particulars, that we come to know what we do.” Ingold and Vergunst’s publications, along with others (Gray, 2003; Kusenbach, 2003; Lund, 2006; Wylie, 2005), raised important methodological lines of research, leading to the development of walking (and photographing) ethnographies. This approach has proven particularly useful in studies focused on specific places and the experiences associated with them (Clark, 2009; Crang; Cook, 2007; Hogan, 2011; Irving, 2007; O’Neill; Hubbard, 2010; Pink, 2007; Shortell; Brown, 2016), as well as in research on graffiti and street art (Phillips, 2015; Tolonen, 2021; Young, 2016).

13In Latin America, an interesting example of this method comes from the street ethnography –Etnografia de Rua–, as an anthropological investigation into the dynamics of cities’ daily interactions, conducted by walking the streets using audiovisual tools (Eckert; Rocha, 2003). The practice of street ethnography is conceived as a way to understand the transformations of urban life territories by investigating collective memory and urban aesthetics. Another compelling example that uses audiovisual methods combined with body movement to study the relationship between the city, memory, and aesthetics comes from medical anthropologist Andrew Irving (2017). His work is based on developing walks through urban landscapes during which audio-recorded verbal narratives of the participants are combined with photographs of places or things significant to them. The idea is that walking through a particular place helps the interviewee to relive memories. This idea is supported by Casey (2000, p. 182), who highlights the existence of a “place memory”: “our memory of what we experience in place is likewise place-specific: it is bound to place as to its own basis.”

14Recently, in the field of “memory studies,” there has been a growing interest in exploring the interconnection between cities, space, and memory (Adams; Larkham, 2022; Badilla, 2020; Capdepón, 2020; Jordan, 2006). These studies highlight how memory is inherently linked to the spatial configuration of a city, through various urban elements such as monuments, squares, street names, among others. Methodologically, this suggests that physically and sensorially engaging with urban spaces can evoke a type of memory tied to those spaces, a memory that would be much harder to access if attempted to recall outside of them. However, the benefits of this method lie not only in facilitating the emergence of memories and personal experiences of the participants, but also in that through these memories and experiences it is possible to explore more general issues related to political, economic, social, cultural dimensions. It is considered a participatory method since the route determined by the participants, their narratives, and the photos taken by them will guide the theoretical direction of the subsequent analysis (Irving 2017).

Photography

15In anthropology, the early uses of photography were developed by Alfred Cort Haddon, Franz Boas, Baldwin Spencer, and Frank Gillen (Jacknis, 1984; Morphy, 1996). In the early 1900s, Bronislaw Malinowski used photography as part of his long-term fieldwork method (Young, 1998). In the mid-20th century, Gregory Bateson and Margaret Mead (1942) made extensive use of photography in their study in Bali. From the 1970s onwards, photography was used to meet the needs of scientific-realist approaches (Edwards, 1992). In the 1980s, the postmodern turn introduced the idea of ethnographies as fictions, emphasizing the centrality of subjectivity in the production of ethnographic knowledge. This paved the way for the visual to become increasingly acceptable, as it was recognized that ethnographic film or photography were no more subjective or objective than written text (Pink, 2013). During the 1990s, innovations in visual technology encouraged ethnographers to experiment with new possibilities. Thus, at the beginning of the 21st century, there was a wave of new works involving visual methodologies (El Guindi, 2004; Emmison; Smith, 2000; Grimshaw, 2001; MacDougall, 2005; Pink; Kurti; Alfonso, 2004; Rose, 2011), leading to the consolidation of visual anthropology.

16Visual anthropology has been characterized by an attention to ethnographic methods, ethical issues, and reflexivity. These concerns have led to efforts to “give the camera back” and create collaborative filmmaking methods (Elder, 1995; Turner, 1992; Weiner, 1997), as well as projects that return photographs and films to research communities (Strathern, 2018). Ethnographers have worked with participants to produce photographs, either with a single participant or in a group, using creative or more conventional modalities (Chaplin, 1994; Collier; Collier, 1986; Lammer, 2012). When photographs are taken collaboratively, they combine the intentions of the researcher and the participant, representing the result of a negotiation (Pink, 2013). When photographs are taken while walking, anthropologist Sarah Pink (2013) introduces the idea of considering them as a “mobile ethnographic method,” a process of image creation that unfolds as we walk with participants “through, within, and as part of the environment.”

Walking and photographing through Comuna 13

17During my fieldwork in Comuna 13, I conducted twenty walking and photographing interviews with residents. Here, I will present two of them, those with Julieth and Luis. The interviews were based on three main requests: 1) the possibility of accompanying me on a walk through a place in the comuna that was particularly significant to them; 2) if they wanted to talk about themselves and share their thoughts, memories, emotions, or sensations that arose when walking through those places (which were recorded in digital format); 3) and if they were available to take photographs of the places we walked through or of anything they considered relevant (with my compact camera).

18During the interviews, the camera functioned as a tool to focus on the participants’ point of view. The act of taking a photograph of a thing, a place or a landscape not only gave the idea that this was significant to the participant, but also led us to delve deeper into the motivations behind this or another photograph. At the same time, by handing the camera over to the participants, their active participation was encouraged. This dynamic generated a space of trust and mutual collaboration, where the participants were protagonists in the creation of the images and in the narration of their stories. This collaboration has significantly enriched the research. Below I will include eighteen photographs taken by the participants. These photos have the objective, on the one hand, of recognizing their collaboration during the research. On the other hand, to show their point of view, and invite readers “to empathetically imagine how and where that photograph was taken in a sensory moment of movement, through a material, sensory, social and emotional environment” (Pink et al., 2010, p. 5). This with the intention of reducing the gap between observation and description (Ingold, 2016), reproducing in the written text the same dynamic that characterized the production of ethnographic knowledge, that is, walking.

19Alongside the pictures, I have included excerpts from the interviews. These are placed at the approximate moment when each photo was taken in order to illustrate how the participants’ specific narratives emerged during the walks, corresponding to the particular places we passed through. Indeed, as we walked through those places, sensory perceptions helped the participants recall experiences and memories of a challenging past. Often, the participants used these sad memories to draw comparisons with the more favorable present. This provided an opportunity to deepen what they considered the underlying causes and consequences of this transformation and the impact of this transformation on their life experiences. Both participants highlighted the drastic change of Comuna 13. For them, the primary reasons for this change were the urban renewal project and art. The murals and escalators emerged as symbols of transformation. Nevertheless, as I will argue later, the embodied experiences of participants, while offering crucial insights into the impacts of these urban changes on the community, fell short of providing a comprehensive understanding of their underlying causes, particularly the intricate structural processes at play. To address this, it was necessary to view Comuna 13 as a socio-spatial assemblage and to rely on sources beyond the body.

Julieth

20On January 7, 2023, I was taking a picture of a staircase in the Las Independencias I neighborhood when I heard: “Look, we’re going to appear in a magazine, we’re going to be famous.” They were Vetto and Julieth, two residents who had unintentionally been captured in the camera’s lens. Seizing this lighthearted moment as an opportunity, I approached them to assure that they would not appear in a magazine but, if they wanted to, in a doctoral thesis. I continued explaining that I was an anthropologist interested in understanding the point of view of the inhabitants and perhaps doing some walking and photographing interviews. Both Vetto and Julieth seemed genuinely curious and, at the end of my introduction, Vetto promptly mentioned Julieth’s extensive experience living in the neighborhood. “She has been living here for more than 30 years”, he said. So, Julieth, feeling directly involved, readily expressed her willingness to “llevarme pa’ arriba” and share with me her experiences in the neighborhood. We met again a few days later, at the same spot, early in the morning before work hours, to start the interview. Throughout the approximately forty-minute walk, Julieth guided me along the main path of Las Independencias I, passing through the electric stairs and back to the starting point via the same route. Along the way, certain spots, captured by Julieth with the camera, sparked in her narration memories of a troubled past. Yet, with each step forward, the lines between past and present blurred, creating a story that was sometimes disordered and contradictory, yet undoubtedly rich and insightful.

My name is Julieth. I have been living here in Commune 13 for 33 years. When I arrived here, the war was extremely terrible. Sometimes 10, 15, or 20 people would be killed. I was about 23 years old at the time. Things here were very hard, very difficult. When Operation Orion happened, there were many people, many dead; there were militiamen, guerrillas, paramilitaries, the army, the police, all the people here. So, things here were very tough; many people died, many families had one person killed, another dismembered; they were killed with chainsaws, they were tortured, their nails were pulled out, all that. This neighborhood was very dangerous. Now, for about 5 years or more, the neighborhood has started to calm down; you don’t see dead people anymore, everything is calm, everything is good. Everything is changing; we are no longer in danger; you can walk around at any time of day; you can leave your door open, and nothing will happen to you. Before, you couldn’t leave your door open because people would come in and steal everything; they would steal all your things. You couldn’t get anything because all you would get was death.

I used to live around here. They used to kill a lot of people here in the court. We would see when they brought the people, and they would kneel them down there.

This place was very dangerous. I was pregnant when someone threw a firecracker. Luckily, the firecracker landed on the bottom floor, not upstairs, and only broke the windows… It has always been dangerous around here. During the war, we couldn’t go out, we couldn’t chat like we are doing now because at any moment, a shootout could start.

There was a hole about 10 meters deep, here. Once, when the shootout began, my cousin, niece, and I had to take shelter in that hole. We couldn’t leave until the shootout ended because bullets were flying everywhere.

There was a boy over there. I was so scared when he told me: “Don’t worry, don’t worry, they’re not going to do anything to you.” From dawn, they were walking around with their weapons, up and down, looking, analyzing everything… The war left us scarred for life.

During Operation Orion, a bullet struck a neighbor’s house, hitting her and killing her instantly. She left behind four young children. They lived across the street from where I live. It was very difficult. It was extremely dangerous here, incredibly dangerous. Those of us from over there couldn’t come here because if we did, they would skin us alive. There are still restrictions like that; you can’t go over there; sometimes you can’t cross the invisible borders. Then, once the escalators were built, everything calmed down, the violence slowed down, until now when things are better. Nobody is killed anymore, except sometimes, someone is killed. In one or two years, one or two people are killed.

A child was playing here, and a stray bullet struck him, killing him. The boy fell here; they picked him up from here and rushed him to the hospital, but he died upon arrival at the health center. Many people, including innocent children, were killed here. Many children joined gangs because of lack of work, 11-year-old children. Consequently, this neighborhood gained a terrible reputation, with many lives lost. Now this neighborhood is fine, you don’t witness the things you once did. Everything has changed here.

Over there, once they killed a 14-year-old child with bricks. Three or four years ago, I witnessed someone being killed. I believe he had started selling drugs, so they knocked on his door while he was playing with some friends, and they killed him. The neighborhood boys were responsible for his death because they are the tough ones and don’t tolerate drug dealing here. Just three months ago, another kid was killed. I didn’t see it happen, but I saw a picture.

Art has had a significant impact here because all the murals have greatly improved the neighborhood.
Everyone comes to take pictures of them. The murals are beautiful, and they make the area feel really nice. A lot of people come to visit the neighborhood, so it makes you feel proud of your community and the people in it.

There are a lot of people now. Before we used to always stay inside, but now we can feel free. The people here are very friendly, very good people, with good vibes.

The murals are very beautiful, they make people happy. They provide jobs for many people, and people come from all over to see them, which is not how it was before. I am fascinated by everything they do here. I like strong colors. Because we are black, black people like strong colors, and the same goes for clothes. I don’t like pale, opaque colors because they don’t mean anything to me.

Luis

21On July 12, 2022, I encountered Luis while I was walking the main street of Las Independencias II. He was promoting his bar to passers-by, so I stopped to chat with him. After a quick introduction, he invited me to ascend a narrow staircase leading to the third and last floor of a building, where he had set up a small bar offering a spectacular view of Medellín. Once there, I took the opportunity to explain my research about Comuna 13, so Luis suddenly identified himself as a “survivor” and openly manifested his willingness to share his story: “We want to tell everyone what happened here!” So, we arranged to meet a few days later, early in the morning, for an interview. On the appointed day, I arrived at Luis’ bar at 9 am. As I sat savoring a coffee, while contemplating Comuna 13 from above, he began to point out the route we were going to follow: “That’s where they used to shoot; there are many bullet holes in the walls!” The interview lasted almost an hour and took place along narrow streets and stairs located at the top of the mountain, just above his bar. During the walk, death was a constant presence in Luis’ narration. At times, his storytelling was interrupted, as if he struggled to find the words to express the fear that those streets evoked.

My name is Luis. I am a survivor of Comuna 13. Let’s take a tour around Comuna 13 to recount the story of years past, the story about how we used to live. Now, thank God, we live in peace, without war. We can sleep peacefully; we can go to the store, and nothing will happen. The children can enjoy themselves; they can study alone and go to the park to play with their friends… I was affected by Operation Orion. I saw a brother and friends fall and thank God I can tell their stories. I was 16 years old at the time, now I am 36, thank God. My older brother was 23 years old. He was serving in the armed forces… they killed him. As for my friends … one went out and found death.

When I came to do errands around here, I used to find dead people… On these stairs around here, we used to see many dead people… people from the neighborhood…

During the operations, I was either working or at home. I worked in a store in the neighborhood. My only concern was protecting myself, hiding under the beds, protecting my family, my siblings, my mother… Let’s proceed to the top where the border was. An invisible border meant you couldn’t cross from one side to the other; if you did, they would kill you…

They used to shoot from here to over there. The army and the armed groups, they all fired from here in all directions. And then there were the stray bullets that would come in through the windows.

I used to work here, in a store. When I walked around here, I was scared. Now you can see the difference, you walk alone, without fear, don’t you?

They used to shoot from over there to here. Do you see the holes? They are already covered up.

Here, I remember, I came in the morning, and I used to see dead people, later in the evening, there were more dead. There were many. I used to walk this path to go home, with fear, at night. But, thanks God, an angel protected me from danger.

Here, they killed three people.

Let’s go higher to see the highest area. The higher you go, the more you can see. Armed groups favored the high parts because they could oversee everything. They would shoot everywhere… There was a group here and another group there.

When I was working for the store, I used to pass by here to make deliveries. I couldn’t walk here alone because I was afraid. We were afraid to walk here.

The murals bring life to the neighborhood. They are all very beautiful and eye-catching. They attract people who come to take photos. They were created to bring life to the neighborhood. The installation of the escalator brought life to the neighborhood. With the viaduct, there is now a place to walk, before there were only stairs and alleys. This changed a lot for me and for everyone, because now people can sell their products: their bananas, their snacks, their arepas, their beers, their soft drinks. Many people pay their rent with the people who come and buy, they pay for services, they pay a bill at the bank, with this they are surviving. Here, if you wanted to sell something it would take you a long time, because there were only people from the neighborhood, you would sell cream and the same people from the neighborhood would buy it. Now many people come in, in the morning, in the afternoon, in the evening. They are safe, you see, you come in here, what have they told you? Nothing… they don’t steal here. Thank God everything is fine, I can walk around here very peacefully, and so can everyone.

Walking through space and time

22As we traversed the streets of Las Independencias I and II, the embodied experiences of Julieth and Luis emerged through their narrations revealing a rich tapestry of memories, emotions, and sensations deeply tied to those places. Through perception and the movement of the bodies, we were able to elicit an embodied, situated, and “emplaced” knowledge, a type of knowledge that emerged from the places themselves, while walking. The walks revealed a striking similarity between the two participants, transcending differences in age, gender, race, background, etc. Despite their unique stories, both Julieth and Luis shared common experiences of fear, danger, violence, suffering and death. At the beginning of the walk, Julieth vividly recounted the presence of armed actors, mass killings, and torture, particularly during Operation Orion, painting a vivid picture of a neighborhood entrenched in danger. Luis’ own narrative, marked by the loss of his brother and friends during the same operation, underscored the pervasive sense of peril that haunts the community. Yet, amidst the shadows of the past, emerged a glimmer of hope in the present. Both Julieth and Luis reflected on a neighborhood that, while once steeped in danger, now seemed to offer greater security and safety. This shift was symbolized by the simple act of “walking around” – an act that was once fraught with danger.

23Julieth: “Now, for about 5 years or more, the neighborhood has started to calm down; you don’t see dead people anymore, everything is calm, everything is good. Everything is changing; we are no longer in danger; you can walk around at any time of day.”

24Luis: “Now, thank God, we live in peace, without war. We can sleep peacefully; we can go to the store, and nothing will happen. The children can enjoy themselves; they can study alone and go to the park to play with their friends… Thank God everything is fine, I can walk around here very peacefully, and so can everyone.”

25However, as we continued walking, the places we passed through stimulated the participants’ memories of more personal experiences, gradually replacing the general recollections of the community’s past shared at the walk’s outset. Passing through the Las Independencias I court, Julieth recalled: “they used to kill a lot of people here in the court. We would see when they brought the people, and they would kneel them down there.” Julieth was describing one of the main sites where armed groups carried out their executions, resulting in the murders of countless people. The public nature of these executions, with residents forced to witness, instilled a constant sense of fear and danger. After crossing the court, the walk continued towards the escalators, until reaching the highest part of Las Independencias I. Each step unearthed another memory. Julieth recounted various episodes: a firecracker shattering her window, taking refuge in a hole in the ground during a shootout, a fleeting reassurance from an armed actor, and the stray bullet that killed her neighbor during Operation Orion. “During the war,” Julieth emphasized, “we couldn’t go out, we couldn’t chat like we are doing now because at any moment, a shootout could start.” Later, passing in front a children’s park, Julieth shared another tragedy. A stray bullet during a shootout hit an 11-year-old boy. This memory fueled her declaration: “Many people, including innocent children, were killed here. Many children joined gangs because of lack of work, 11-year-old children. Consequently, this neighborhood gained a terrible reputation, with many lives lost…” Julieth then contrasted this past with a seemingly safer present: “Now this neighborhood is fine, you don’t witness the things you once did. Everything has changed here.” However, her own later statement introduced a note of contradiction. She recounted witnessing a series of recent murders of young people, highlighting, in spite of everything, the persistence of violence: “Over there, once they killed a 14-year-old child with bricks. Three or four years ago, I witnessed someone being killed… Just three months ago, another kid was killed.”

26Similar to Julieth’s experience, Luis’ walk triggered memories deeply tied to the places we passed through. Death, danger, and fear seemed a constant presence in his narrative. Walking up a staircase, he recalled running errands for a store, and finding the streets littered with corpses – a stark reminder of the fear he constantly faced when walking in the neighborhood. Later, Luis was eager to take me to a high vantage point. “The higher you go, the more you can see”, he explained, “armed groups favored the high parts because they could oversee everything.” From above, he pointed out an “invisible border.” Invisible borders are a social phenomenon recognized in many Colombian urban centers. These invisible lines divide the territory between illegal armed groups, establishing their jurisdiction. Crossing one could be really dangerous, resulting in an attack or even death. Julieth’s confirmation underscored the lingering threat: “There are still restrictions like that; you can’t go over there; sometimes you can’t cross the invisible border.” Crossing one of these ancient invisible borders, Luis showed bullet holes in the wall of a house, further emphasizing the danger of those stray bullets that could enter people’s homes and kill anyone indiscriminately.

27Julieth and Luis’ narratives painted a stark picture of Comuna 13 – marking two distinct timeframes: a “before” and an “after.” The “before” was a time dominated by death; a constant presence woven into the fabric of everyday life. It was a biological death manifested in the bodies littering the streets, in the bodies’ victims of executions in the court, in the bodies hit by stray bullets, in the bodies’ collateral victims of the military operations, in the bodies kidnapped, and tortured. Yet, the concept of death transcended the biological, and it encompassed another dimension, a more collective and metaphorical one. It was the death of the comuna itself, – a place where freedom of movement and social interaction were strangled by invisible borders, the control of the armed groups, military interventions, and the constant fear of getting caught in the crossfire or getting hit by a stray bullet. However, both walks revealed a transformation – a shift from violence, danger, suffering, and death to a present of life. Two key factors are seen as driving this change: the escalators and street art.

28Luis: “The installation of the escalator brought life to the neighborhood … The murals bring life to the neighborhood.”

29The meaning of “bringing to life” to the neighborhood can be found in these two passages.

30Julieth: “All the murals have greatly improved the neighborhood. Everyone comes to take pictures of them… A lot of people come to visit the neighborhood, so it makes you feel proud of your community and the people in it… They provide jobs for many people, and people come from all over to see them, which is not how it was before.”

31Luis: “The murals bring life to the neighborhood… They attract people who come to take photos… The installation of the escalator brought life to the neighborhood. With the viaduct, there is now a place to walk… This changed a lot for me and for everyone, because now people can sell their products: their bananas, their snacks, their arepas, their beers, their soft drinks. Many people pay their rent with the people who come and buy, they pay for services, they pay a bill at the bank, with this they are surviving.”

32Julieth’s words reveal how, from her perspective, the street art images – the murals – improving the visual aspect of the neighborhood, have fostered a sense of community pride. By attracting tourists, they have transformed the community’s stigma from a dangerous place to a vibrant hub of art worth visiting and photographing. Luis, on the other hand, emphasizes the economic benefits. From Luis’ perspective, the street art images – the murals – were created with the intention of attracting tourists, who, after the urban renewal project, found a more suitable space for leisurely strolls. Hence, the influx of visitors creates a market for local vendors, allowing them to sell their goods and generate income. This economic activity not only improves the livelihood of residents but also creates a sense of vibrancy and dynamism. In conclusion, “bringing life” to the neighborhood encompasses both social and economic revitalization. The top-down project (the escalators) and the bottom-up initiative (street art) worked together contributing to the “touristification” (Knafou, 1996), of Comuna 13.

33However, while Julieth and Luis’ embodied experiences provide valuable insights, they offer only a partial picture of the comuna’s transformation. Indeed, focusing solely on the participants’ embodied experiences would risk overlooking how and why these urban processes came to be. What were the specific political and economic factors that contributed to the transformation of Comuna 13? How did these broader forces intersect with the lived experiences of residents like Julieth and Luis? To what extent did local and global factors shape the trajectory of the comuna’s transformation? To address these concerns, I had to recognize the limits of the body and observe Comuna 13 as a socio-spatial assemblage.

The limits of the body

34The most evident limitation of the body lies in the fact that it cannot surpass the boundaries of its own materiality. This means that while an embodied– based approach can be useful for studying experiences related to a particular place, it run the risk of isolating that place and losing sight of the relationships it maintains with the broader context of the city, region, country, or even the planet. To avoid this risk, I incorporated an analytical perspective typical of human geographers (Rodman, 2003), allowing to consider both the significance and the individual or collective experience of a particular place, as well as the influence of macro-level structures on the micro (Agnew, 1987; Massey, 1994). In this regard, architect and urban planner Kim Dovey (2010), drawing from the philosophy of Gilles Deleuze, proposes examining urban space as a “socio-spatial assemblage.” Essentially, an “assemblage” is a whole whose properties emerge from the interactions among its components. From this viewpoint, Comuna 13 is a whole shaped by the interactions of its various elements – streets, sidewalks, buildings, walls, images, people, etc. – while simultaneously being a component that interacts with other elements constituting a larger whole, such as the city of Medellín, and so on. So, considering Comuna 13 as a part in a whole, we could also observe how local experiences are inevitably influenced by political decisions made elsewhere, and by global flows of capital, people, ideas, etc.

35First of all, the touristification of Comuna 13 must be contextualized within the broader political and institutional framework that promoted tourism at both national and local levels. Beginning in the 1990s, Colombia embarked on policies aimed at internationalization and economic liberalization to position itself as a global competitor. In 1996, under the government of César Gaviria, Law 300, known as the General Tourism Law, recognized tourism as a crucial industry for the country’s development (Colombia, 1996). Following the direction set by the government, the Development Plans of Medellín increasingly emphasized city marketing strategies to promote the city as a tourist destination. For instance, Sergio Naranjo’s plan (1995-1997) underscored the importance of addressing security concerns to connect the city with the global market (Alcaldía de Medellín, 1995). Juan Gómez Martínez’s plan (1998-2000) emphasized the need for an internationalization strategy to transform the city’s image and promote tourism (Alcaldía de Medellín, 1998). Also the subsequent plan, under the administration of Luis Pérez Gutiérrez (2001-2003), highlighted the urgency of making Medellín competitive in the international tourism market (Alcaldía de Medellín, 2001). However, it wasn’t until 2004 that Medellín’s public policy began implementing interventions in precarious settlements, public spaces, urban mobility, and transportation in marginal neighborhoods, aiming to enhance its appeal as a global tourist destination. The Sergio Fajardo (2004-2007) administration had incorporated into its plan a focus on “integration with the world”, and with its implementation of social urbanism (US), substantial resources were directed towards urban renewal projects in marginalized areas (Echeverri; Orsini, 2012). However, it was in Alonso Salazar’s plan (2008-2011) that a clear strategy prioritizing the territorial transformation of marginalized sectors as a catalyst for tourism was planned (Alcaldía de Medellín, 2008). This emphasis on transformation and image change in marginal sectors as pivotal for tourism industry development continued in subsequent plans, such as those of Aníbal Gaviria (2012-2015) and Federico Gutiérrez (2016-2019) (Alcaldía de Medellín, 2016).

36In 2008, Alonso Salazar’s administration planned the construction of the “Senderos de Conexión Independencias I” in Las Independencias I neighborhood of Comuna 13. The project included the construction of six sections of escalators, the renovation of 1,102 square meters of public space, 343 meters of pedestrian walkways, and the construction of two public buildings. Managed by civil engineer César Augusto Hernández Correa and built by the city’s Urban Development Company (EDU), it was completed and delivered in 2012 during Aníbal Gaviria’s administration. The project was one of the interventions outlined by the Comprehensive Urban Project (PUI). PUIs are interventions in public space focusing on solving mobility, centrality, meeting, environmental, recreational, and sporting issues (Cideu, 2020). They are planning and physical intervention instruments in marginal areas that seek to address specific problems identified through initial diagnosis. It was precisely this initial diagnosis, conducted by the Administrative Department of Planning of the Municipality of Medellín, which revealed that inadequate and precarious mobility and access to the territory were among the key issues in Comuna 13. The escalators, extending to a height of 130 meters and replacing 350 concrete stairs, were originally designed to enable residents to move quickly and effortlessly from the top of the mountain to the bottom and vice versa. Therefore, despite aligning with the Development Plans of the Salazar and Gaviria administrations, which emphasized interventions in marginal sectors as a tourist incentive, the project was not specifically designed as a tourist attraction but rather to improve local mobility.

37It is clear that, while the original intention of this project was to enhance the mobility of residents, it has also played a role in creating a more tourist-friendly environment. However, attributing the entirety of this transformation to the escalators would be oversimplifying. Firstly, as previously discussed, the project was not initially conceived for this purpose. Secondly, even if it had been, it is improbable that tourists would flock exclusively to visit something as commonplace as an escalator. Instead, it is more plausible to attribute the attraction of tourism to the artistic practices that have emerged organically from within the community. These artistic endeavors have intersected with a political-economic climate conducive to international tourism and urban renewal, further fueling tourism development. However, it is challenging to assert that this tourism surge in Comuna 13 was meticulously planned or directly instigated by public institutions. Rather, it seems to have unfolded somewhat spontaneously, driven by the convergence of bottom-up community initiatives and top-down institutional measures. Subsequently, public institutions gradually embraced this process, continuing to allocate significant resources and demonstrating a clear institutional commitment to preserving Comuna 13 as an artistic and cultural hub of the city, with the intention of presenting the “transformation” of Comuna 13 as the result of their policies (Restrepo Cadavid, 2013). As stated on the website of the Medellín Mayor’s Office: “The Medellín Mayor’s Office consistently collaborates with key stakeholders in the region to enhance the quality of life for its residents and, in this case, to bolster the area’s tourism fabric, which is one of the most emblematic in the capital of Antioquia” (Alcaldía de Medellín, 2023). In 2022, the Urban Development Company (EDU) continued construction on the “Sendero de Conexión II,” an infrastructure project that will link with the escalators and feature gardens, playgrounds, an outdoor gym, communal spaces, and additional stairways (Alcaldía de Medellín, 2021). Ultimately, it is apparent that Comuna 13 is now at the center of considerable political and economic attention.

Conclusion

38In this paper, I explored the centrality and limitations of the body in my research on Comuna 13 in Medellín. I discussed the benefits of embodied methodologies, such as walking (and photographing) ethnography, in uncovering participants’ past and present experiences tied to their environment. These methods revealed how Comuna 13 is profoundly shaped by a stark contrast between “before” and “after” – a past marked by violence and a present of transformation. This juxtaposition is emblematic of Medellín, where the scars of its violent history coexist with new infrastructures and contemporary cultural expressions. Understanding how local communities navigate this complex interplay of past and present is crucial to appreciating the scope of urban transformations and offering insights for other cities facing similar challenges.

39However, while walking interviews were essential in accessing the embodied memories embedded in places, a comprehensive analysis of the structural forces shaping these experiences required adopting a broader lens. By viewing Comuna 13 as an assemblage, I was able to explore the interplay between its parts – local experiences and global political and economic processes, micro and macro dynamics. This approach provided a framework to situate participants’ experiences within a larger political and economic context, offering a deeper understanding of the comuna’s transformation.

40In conclusion, I reflected on the strengths and limitations of embodiment-based methodologies in urban studies, proposing assemblage theory as a means to address these challenges. This theoretical framework allows for a dual focus: on the significance of specific places and their associated individual or collective experiences, and on the macro-level structures that influence these places and experiences. I hope this paper enriches the debate on embodiment by presenting a methodological and theoretical approach that bridges its limitations and offers a valuable multidisciplinary perspective for urban studies scholars.

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Notas

1 Julieth and Luis are pseudonyms as agreed upon with the participants through informed consents.

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Referência eletrónica

Claudio Riga, «Exploring the centrality and constraints of the body: walking ethnography in Comuna 13 of Medellín»Horizontes Antropológicos [Online], 72 | 2025, posto online no dia 31 agosto 2025, consultado o 08 fevereiro 2026. URL: http://journals.openedition.org/horizontes/10408

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Autor

Claudio Riga

Universidad de Los Andes – Bogotá, Colombia
c.riga[at]uniandes.edu.co
https://orcid.org/0000-0001-8242-6838

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