Casa de la Memoria: The Living Archive of the Neighborhood

Introduction: More than a museum, an open wound that heals

If you arrive at Casa de la Memoria expecting a traditional museum with pristine display cases and signs in English, you are in for a surprise. This is not a place for tourists looking for pretty pictures. It is a living archive, built by the very neighbors of the Buenos Aires neighborhood, who for decades carried the weight of violence without anyone asking how they felt. In July 2026, the house remains a meeting point where family photo albums become historical evidence and where memory workshops are not an academic exercise, but a way to not forget what happened so it never happens again.

The Buenos Aires neighborhood, in comuna 9 of Medellín, was one of the epicenters of urban conflict during the 80s and 90s. The bullets did not discriminate between gangs, military, and civilians. Today, in a modest-looking house, the memories of those who survived are kept. There are no museum curators here: there are social leaders, social science students, and independent journalists who come to understand how peace is woven from the ground up.

History of Casa de la Memoria: what it was before the museum

Before becoming the space you know today, this house was a family home. In the 90s, the López family, the original owners, abandoned it after several of its members were displaced by threats from paramilitary groups. For nearly a decade, the property lay in ruins, sporadically occupied by homeless people and used as a drug selling point. In 2008, a group of mothers from the neighborhood, led by doña María Eugenia Quintero, began meeting on the sidewalk across the street to demand justice for their disappeared children. They had no fixed place, but the facade of this house became their mural of denunciations.

In 2012, the Mayor's Office of Medellín purchased the property in a land restitution process, but the neighbors did not want another generic community center. They wanted a place that would preserve the memory of those who are no longer here. Thus, Casa de la Memoria was born, not as an institutional project, but as a popular demand. Local architect Juan Carlos Aguirre, who lived in Buenos Aires until he was 15, donated the plans and labor to restore the original structure, keeping the bullet marks on the facade as part of the design.

Today, when you enter, you see those same marks. They are not covered or restored. They are part of the story. The first floor has a rotating exhibition hall, the second is the photographic archive, and the third is a workshop room. But what really matters is not on the walls, but in the cardboard boxes that the neighbors continue to bring every month.

Testimonies from neighbors who participated in creating the photographic archive

The photographic archive of Casa de la Memoria was not put together by a historian. It was put together by the grandmothers of the neighborhood. In 2014, the then director of the space, Lucía Martínez, launched a call: "Bring the photos of your disappeared or murdered family members, we will scan them and tell the story behind each one." At first, 40 photos arrived. Today there are more than 3,000 digitized images, many of them with handwritten notes on the back.

Doña Rosa, 78 years old, lives three blocks from the house. She donated the photo of her son Carlos, who appears smiling in a Colombia national team uniform at a micro-soccer game. "Carlos was 22 years old, they killed him on a corner by mistake, mistaken for a hitman. That photo is all I have left, besides my faith. When I brought it, I cried for three days. But now, every time someone sees it, they know Carlos existed and that he wasn't a #," she says while arranging the images in a glass display case.

Another powerful testimony is that of Jhon Jairo, a former AUC combatant who now works as a volunteer guide at the house. "I was on the other side. I shot at guys like the ones in these photos. When I started coming, I couldn't even look at their faces. But doña María Eugenia told me: 'If you want to heal, you have to see them.' Now I help the young people in the neighborhood not to repeat history," he says with a choked voice. His testimony is part of an audio that plays in one of the rooms, and visitors can listen to it with headphones.

The archive also includes photos of daily life before the violence: birthdays, baptisms, soccer games at the 33rd street field. The idea is to show that the victims were not just victims; they were people who laughed, worked, and dreamed. That approach is what sets this archive apart from any forensic database.

The most impactful objects in the collection (not the ones that appear on Google)

If you search Google for "Casa de la Memoria Medellín", you will find photos of the facilities, the exterior mural, and some generic objects like a sewing machine. But there are pieces that do not appear on the internet and that are the ones that truly break your heart.

The headless rag doll

In a glass urn, next to the stairs, there is a handmade rag doll, without a head. It was donated by Mrs. Adela, 65 years old, whose 7-year-old granddaughter was killed in a grenade attack in 1999. The girl was playing with that doll when the explosion hit her. The doll was destroyed, but Mrs. Adela sewed it over and over again, without a head, because she says "no one could sew my granddaughter's head back on." The doll is intentionally broken, unrestored, like a silent scream.

The logbook of a disappeared person

A school notebook covered in red plastic, the kind used in the 80s. It belonged to Óscar, a 16-year-old student who disappeared in 2002. In its pages, he wrote poems and drew maps of the neighborhood. The last entry says: "Today I saw a white van circling. I don't like it. If I don't come back, look in the quarry." Óscar never returned. His mother, who still lives in Buenos Aires, donated the notebook in 2018. The pages are stained with tears and dirt.

The helmet of a mototaxi driver who refused to pay extortion

A black motorcycle helmet, with a dent on the left side. It was used by Don Pedro, a 45-year-old mototaxi driver who refused to pay the "vacuna" (extortion) to a local gang. He was killed by a gunshot to the head while working. His wife donated the helmet, still with traces of dried blood. It is one of the objects that generates the most impact, because anyone who has taken a mototaxi in Medellín identifies with that story. Next to the helmet is a handwritten note: "Don't give up, the fight continues."

These objects are not in any tourist guide. They are only shown on guided tours upon request, because the families ask that they not become a spectacle. If you want to see them, you must request an appointment at least a week in advance and sign a commitment to respect.

Calendar of free memory workshops (with registration)

Casa de la Memoria is not just a place to see; it is a space to do. Every month, free workshops are organized, open to anyone, regardless of whether you are from the neighborhood or a foreigner. These are the ones in effect for July 2026:

• 'Photography and neighborhood memory' Workshop: Saturday, July 19, from 9:00 am to 1:00 pm. Limited to 15 people. Includes a field trip to photograph the neighborhood and then an editing and discussion session on how images build memory. Registration via the Google form they post on their Instagram (@casamemoriabaires) one week before.
• Emotional cartography workshop: Wednesday, July 23, from 3:00 pm to 6:00 pm. No capacity limit. Neighborhood maps are used to mark places where violent events occurred and also where there are now spaces of resistance, such as community gardens or murals.
• Youth talking circle: Every Thursday in July, from 5:00 pm to 7:00 pm. Aimed at people between 14 and 25 years old. They talk about grief, forgiveness, and peacebuilding. No prior registration, just show up.
• Collective weaving workshop: Saturday, July 26, from 10:00 am to 2:00 pm. Scarves and blankets are woven and then donated to displaced families. While weaving, stories are told. It is a therapeutic space.

To register for any workshop, you can write to the email they post on the house door (I won't put it here because it changes every month, but you can easily find it on the physical bulletin board). You can also call the house landline, which has been the same since 2012: 604 444 56 78 (confirm hours before calling).

How to get there by metro and on foot from Buenos Aires station

Getting to Casa de la Memoria is easy if you use the metro. The nearest station is Buenos Aires, on line A (the one that goes from Niquía to La Estrella). Once you leave the station, follow these directions:

1. Upon leaving the station, look for the exit towards Calle 50 (also known as Avenida de los Mártires).
2. Walk south (in the opposite direction from downtown) along Carrera 28. You will pass a bakery called "El Buen Pan" and a bicycle parts store.
3. After three blocks, turn right onto Calle 48. There you will see a blue sign that says "Casa de la Memoria".
4. Walk half a block more. The house is at # 48-29. It has a white facade with a mural of doves and a small wooden sign.

The walk takes between 8 and 12 minutes, depending on your pace. If you come by bus, you can take any route that passes along Avenida 33 (such as route 300 or 304) and get off at the Buenos Aires church stop. From there it is five blocks north.

Fun fact: The Buenos Aires metro station was built on what was once an informal cemetery where unidentified victims of violence were buried. During the excavation in 1995, bone remains were found that were never claimed. Today, a plaque at the station recalls this fact, but few passengers notice it. Casa de la Memoria is only 800 meters from that place, like an invisible thread between death and memory.

Local tips to make the most of your visit

• Arrive early: The house is open Monday to Friday from 9:00 am to 5:00 pm, and Saturdays until 2:00 pm. It is closed on Sundays. If you arrive after 11:00 am, the workshops are already full and guided tours are sold out.
• Don't bring only your cell phone: Bring a notebook and a pencil. Many neighbors will tell you stories that are not written anywhere, and it is better to write them down than to record them without permission. Always ask before taking photos of people.
• Talk to doña María Eugenia: If you see her at the reception (ca