The Tejo Court Where the Neighborhood's Future is Discussed

The Tejo Court Where the Neighborhood's Future is Discussed

On 89A Street, at the corner with 42nd Avenue, in the Aranjuez neighborhood of Medellín, the smell of gunpowder and mud doesn't announce a protest, but a game of tejo. This traditional sport, which combines a metal disc, a clay court, and explosive fuses, is much more than a game here. Starting at 5 p.m., when the sun begins to hide behind the two-story houses, the court becomes the stage for a neighborhood assembly without a microphone or agenda. In July 2026, while the city debates between real estate development and preserving its identity, this space remains the thermometer of what is really happening in Aranjuez.

No signs say it, but anyone who sits on the wooden benches knows it: here, the future of the neighborhood is discussed. Not with banners or formal meetings, but amidst laughter, beers, and the blast of a well-placed fuse. It's a phenomenon few urban planners study, but it explains why Aranjuez resists the gentrification that has already transformed other sectors of Medellín.

Setting: Tejo as an Intergenerational Meeting Point

The court on 89A Street has no official name. Locals call it "Don Jairo's court," after the 68-year-old man who has managed it for over two decades. It's a 15-meter long by 5-meter wide plot, roofed with zinc sheets and surrounded by a metal mesh that barely hides the clay dust that rises with each throw. At the back, a faded mural of a tejo and the word "Aranjuez" spray-painted on it reminds you this is neighborhood territory.

What makes this court unique is its ability to bring together people who wouldn't normally share a table. Here you'll find retirees who have been playing since the 80s, young students from the University of Antioquia who get off the tram, construction workers who have finished their shift, and even the occasional tourist who stumbled upon it by chance. Ages range from 18 to 80. Occupations: electricians, teachers, the unemployed, shopkeepers, engineers. There's no social filter. The only requirement is knowing how to throw the tejo, or at least being willing to learn.

Peak hours are between 6 p.m. and 9 p.m. from Monday to Friday, when people get off work. On weekends, the court fills up from noon, especially on Sundays, when impromptu tournaments form that can last until night. According to Don Jairo, on a good day, between 40 and 60 people pass through. "It's not just about playing. It's about coming to vent, to talk about what hurts," he says while adjusting the fuse on a tejo.

Voices: What is Said at the Court

To understand how this neighborhood assembly works, just sit down and listen. On any given afternoon in July 2026, while three games are played in parallel, conversations revolve around three topics that define life in Aranjuez: insecurity, transportation, and gentrification.

About Insecurity

Carlos, 45, an electrician and resident of 88th Street, throws the tejo while recounting: "Last week, two blocks from here, a kid was robbed at 7 p.m. The police don't show up until it's all over. Here at the court, we look out for each other. If a stranger approaches, we all notice." Carlos is not a formal community leader, but at the court, his word carries weight. "The good thing about this place is that you can speak without fear. There's no politicking, no need to ask permission to say what you think," he adds as another player nods.

About Transportation

María, 29, a social work student, waits her turn while commenting: "The tram is fine, but since they put in the cable car, the bus routes changed and now it's harder to get to the upper part of the neighborhood. Here at the court, we discuss that. Once we took up a collection to pay for a van to take the elderly to the clinic. No one told us to do it; we just did it." María has been using the court for three years. For her, this space is more effective than any community action board. "There, it's always the same people, the ones who talk pretty and do nothing. Here, things get done," she says.

About Gentrification

Don Jairo, the manager, sees it most clearly. "Look at these new houses they're building. They're apartments worth 300 million pesos. The people here can't afford that. Several neighbors have already left because their rent went up. And the court, what about it? Are they going to tear it down to build a building? We'll have to fight." Don Jairo is not an activist, but his court has become a symbol of resistance. "The architects and politicians don't come here. But if they want to know what the neighborhood thinks, they should come on a Sunday at 3 p.m. That's where the truth is," he states.

Analysis: The Court as an Informal Neighborhood Assembly

What happens at this tejo court is no accident. It's a form of organization that has existed in the working-class neighborhoods of Medellín for decades, but it is rarely documented. While Community Action Boards (JACs) operate with scheduled meetings, minutes, and budgets, the court functions without structure. There's no president, no treasurer, no agenda. But there are results.

Urban planners call this "informal spaces of participation." In Aranjuez, the tejo court is the perfect example. Here, decisions that affect neighborhood life are made: from coordinating neighborhood watch to organizing a collection to fix a street. What the JACs lack—speed, horizontality, trust—is abundant here. It's not that formal boards are useless; it's that the court fills a void they don't cover.

An unofficial study that Don Jairo has conducted over the years reveals that 70% of regular players are between 25 and 55 years old, and 60% work in manual trades. Most live within 10 blocks of the court. "This is more democratic than an assembly," says a sociologist from the National University who has visited the place several times, though he asks not to be named. "Here, the person speaking doesn't need to ask for the floor. And the person listening, truly listens."

The contrast with the JACs is evident. In formal meetings, attendees are usually over 60, discussions drag on for hours, and decisions take weeks to implement. At the court, a problem is raised between one throw and the next, and if there is consensus, action is taken the next day. "The JAC is for bureaucracy. The court is for life," Carlos summarizes.

Practical Info: How to Get There and What to Expect

If you want to experience this phenomenon first-hand, here's what you need to know.

How to Get There

• By metro: Get off at Acevedo station on Line A. From there, take the Ayacucho tram to Aranjuez station. The court is a 5-minute walk away, going up 89A Street.
• By bus: Routes that run along 42nd Avenue (like the 300 or 315) drop you off two blocks away. Ask for "the tejo court on 89A."
• By taxi or Uber: Set your destination as "89A Street with 42nd Avenue, Aranjuez." The trip from downtown costs about $15,000 COP (reference prices from July 2026).

Hours and Costs

• Peak hours: Monday to Friday from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m.; Saturdays and Sundays from 12 p.m. to 10 p.m.
• Cost per game: $5,000 COP per person per hour. Includes use of the court and the tejos. Fuses are sold separately: $2,000 COP per bag of 10.
• What to bring: Comfortable clothes you can get dirty. Mud and gunpowder stain. You don't need special shoes, but avoid sandals.
• What not to bring: Professional cameras without asking permission. The players are friendly, but discretion is key. Ask before recording.

Where to Eat and Drink Nearby

The court doesn't have a restaurant, but there are options nearby that players frequent.

• La Tienda de la Esquina (42nd Avenue with 89th Street): Sells cold beers ($3,500 COP), sodas, and empanadas ($2,000 COP each). It's the main supply point during games.
• Asadero El Aranjueño (88th Street, two blocks away): Specializes in grilled meat and arepas. A bandeja plate costs $18,000 COP. Open from 11 a.m. to 9 p.m.
• Panadería La 89 (89A Street, half a block away): Sells pandebono and coffee for $3,000 COP. Ideal for a late breakfast before the Sunday game.

Local Tips

• Arrive early on Sundays: The tournament on the first Sunday of each month starts at 3 p.m., but people are already warming up from 2 p.m. If you arrive after 3 p.m., you might not get a spot.
• Learn the basic rules: The tejo is thrown from a line 15 meters away. The goal is for the disc to land in a clay circle. If a fuse explodes, it's 3 points. If it lands in the center, it's 6. It's not complicated, but asking the locals will earn you respect.
• Don't talk about partisan politics: The court is a neutral space. Neighborhood problems are discussed here, not candidates. If you mention a politician, the conversation cools down.
• Respect the turn: Games are played in teams of 2 to 4 people. If you don't have a team, sit on the bench and wait to be invited. It almost always happens.
• Bring cash: The court doesn't accept cards or Nequi. Don Jairo only takes bills and coins.

Contrast: Tejo Court vs. Community Action Board

To understand why this space is so effective, it's worth comparing it to formal JACs.

Aspect	Tejo Court	Community Action Board
Participation	Open, no requirements	Requires registration and membership
Frequency	Daily, informal	Monthly, with a fixed agenda
Decision-making	Immediate, by consensus	Slow, by voting
Hierarchy	Horizontal, no fixed leaders	Vertical, with president and secretary
Effectiveness	High for everyday problems	High for budgeted projects

The court doesn't replace the JAC, but complements it. While the board manages municipal resources, the court solves urgent matters: a sick neighbor, a broken pipe, a robbery. Both are necessary, but the court has something the JAC lost: the trust of the people.

Frequently Asked Questions

Can I Go to the Court Alone if I Don't Know How to Play Tejo?

Yes. Most players are willing to teach. Sit on the bench, watch for a while, and when you see a good moment, ask them to explain. The worst that can happen is they tell you to wait your turn. It's not an exclusive place, but courtesy is key.

Is the Court Safe for Tourists or Foreigners?

In general, yes. Aranjuez is a residential neighborhood with low violent crime, though there are occasional robberies. The court is a space watched over by the neighbors themselves. As a tourist, you will be treated with curiosity and respect, as long as you don't arrive with an attitude of superiority. Avoid showing valuables and don't stray from the main area after 10 p.m.

Is There a Cost to Participate in the Tournament on the First Sunday of Each Month?

The tournament is free and open to anyone who wants to play. You just need to arrive before 3 p.m. to sign up. If you win, the prize is usually a case of beer or a bag of tejos. There's no money involved, just the pride of being the best thrower in the neighborhood for a month.

What Happens if It Rains?

The court has a roof, but the clay becomes slippery. Games are canceled if the rain is heavy, but players usually stay under the roof chatting. It's a good time to listen to neighborhood stories without the noise of the fuses.

How Can I Contact Don Jairo to Arrange a Visit?

There is no public phone number or website. The best way is to go directly. If you want to make sure there is activity, go on a Sunday. Don Jairo is almost always there, but he doesn't answer messages. It's part of the place's charm: there's no bureaucracy, not even to contact him.

Historical or Contextual Introduction

Tejo is more than just a game in Colombia; it is a social ritual that has endured over the years, especially in Medellín. Its origins date back to the indigenous Muisca people, who played with a metal disc they threw at a target. With the arrival of the Spanish, the game evolved and adapted, incorporating the gunpowder that is now an essential part of modern tejo.

In the Aranjuez neighborhood, the tejo court is not only a place to play, but a meeting point where communities gather to discuss issues affecting their environment. In an atmosphere of camaraderie, players share stories, laughter, and also concerns about the future of the neighborhood. This social dynamic makes tejo a mirror of local culture, where each game is an opportunity to strengthen community ties.

Tejo matches in Aranjuez usually begin at dusk, when players arrive with their beers and anecdotes. If you decide to visit, keep in mind that the fun is contagious and the rules can vary from one place to another. Here, the competition is healthy, but the most important thing is to enjoy the moment and the local atmosphere.

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What to Do

Enjoy a Game of Tejo

Visit the tejo court on 89A Street, at the corner with 42nd Avenue. This place is not only ideal for playing, but also for observing how tradition and everyday neighborhood life intertwine. The energy of the place is contagious and the laughter mixes with the sound of the tejos hitting the gunpowder.

Insider Tip: Arrive early to choose a good spot and make sure to order a arepa de choclo from the nearby store. It's the perfect complement to enjoy while you play.

Explore the Aranjuez Neighborhood

After playing, take a walk through the Aranjuez neighborhood. The streets are full of murals that tell the story of the place and its inhabitants. It's an excellent spot to take photos and learn a bit more about the local culture.

Insider Tip: Ask the neighbors about the history of the murals; many of them have been painted by local artists and each one has an interesting anecdote.

Visit Plaza de Aranjuez

Plaza de Aranjuez is a popular meeting point. Here you can find street vendors offering local delicacies and spaces to sit and enjoy the afternoon. It's an ideal place to relax after an intense game of tejo.

Insider Tip: Don't leave without trying a bocadillo veleño from one of the vendors. This typical sweet is perfect for recharging your energy.

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