Origins
When the sun hides behind the Sierra Nevada and the Caribbean Sea turns orange, most tourists in Santa Marta think of rums by the beach or dancing until dawn in the Zona Rosa. But there is a minority that, as night falls, walks in the opposite direction, toward the historic center, where the cobblestone streets become narrower and the air changes temperature. They go to the San Miguel Cemetery, the oldest burial ground in the city, founded in the mid-19th century, when Santa Marta was still a republican port and yellow fever took sailors and merchants by the dozens.
This cemetery is not just a place of eternal rest. It is the epicenter of an esoteric tradition that few know about and that, in May 2026, remains alive among the whispers of votive candles and footsteps that make no sound. The stories of apparitions, of souls in pain, and of rituals that mix African, indigenous, and Catholic beliefs have made San Miguel a meeting point for those seeking something beyond the conventional party. Here, Halloween is not on October 31: it happens any Friday of the full moon, when a group of local historians organizes walks that make even the most skeptical's hair stand on end.
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The old folks in the neighborhood say the cemetery was built on an ancient indigenous burial ground, the kind the Tayronas used to bury their dead in ceramic urns. When the Spanish arrived, they razed everything and placed a cross. Later, in 1845, the local government decided to formalize the cemetery because burials in the churches were no longer sufficient. Since then, San Miguel has witnessed epidemics, civil wars, and the arrival of immigrants who never returned to their homeland. This mix of unresolved stories is the perfect breeding ground for the legends that now attract curious travelers from all over the world.
Timeline or historical milestones
1845: Official founding of the cemetery
The governor of the province decrees the construction of the San Miguel Cemetery on land donated by the De la Vega family. Originally, it was just a plot of land enclosed by mud walls, where they buried the poor and foreigners who died in the port without family to claim them.
1870: The cholera epidemic
A cholera outbreak ravages Santa Marta. In just three months, more than 800 people die. The cemetery becomes too small, and mass graves are opened. It is said that many of those souls never found peace, and their laments can still be heard when the wind blows from the sea.
1905: The arrival of Syrian and Lebanese immigrants
With the construction of the railroad, merchants from the Middle East arrive and settle in Santa Marta. Some die here and are buried in San Miguel. Their tombs, with inscriptions in Arabic, are among the most visited during the night tours. The legend of the "Boy with the Black Hand" originates from one of these families.
1950: The rise of oral legends
Local newspapers begin publishing chronicles of apparitions. The most famous is that of "The Weeping Woman of San Miguel," a woman who wanders among the tombs looking for her child. Although the story exists throughout Mexico and Central America, the Santa Marta version has a unique twist: the woman does not cry, but sings a lullaby in the Chimila language.
2015: First organized night tour
A group of historians and anthropologists from the University of Magdalena decides to open the cemetery to the public at night, with specialized guides. The success is immediate. Today, in 2026, these tours take place every full moon and have a waiting list of up to two months.
Key characters or events
The Weeping Woman of San Miguel
Unlike the Mexican version, this Weeping Woman is not a woman who drowned her children. The Santa Marta story tells of a Chimila indigenous woman who worked as a maid in a house on Calle 14. She fell in love with a Spanish merchant, became pregnant, and he abandoned her. The child was stillborn, or so they say, because some claim the baby was buried alive by mistake. Since then, the woman wanders the cemetery with a candle in her hand, singing a song that local guides have tried to transcribe. The oldest in the neighborhood swear that whoever hears it three times in a row dies within the year.
The Boy with the Black Hand
This legend is more recent and has a documented origin. In 1923, a Lebanese family lost their seven-year-old son to yellow fever. They buried him in a family vault, but within a few days, black handprints began to appear on the tombstone. Family members said the boy returned because he had not been baptized according to Catholic rite. The parish priest of the Cathedral blessed the tomb, but the prints continued to appear. Today, tourists leave toys and candies on the tombstone, and many swear they have seen the silhouette of a boy running among the mausoleums.
Don Emilio, the ghost gravedigger
Emilio Pérez worked as a gravedigger at San Miguel from 1945 until his death in 1987. They say he never left anyone unburied, even during rainy nights. After his death, several guards have reported seeing an elderly man, with a straw hat and a shovel on his shoulder, walking among the tombs. If you greet him, he disappears. If you ask him the time, he replies: "It's too late for everyone."
The Pact of the Souls
An Afro-Caribbean tradition that remains alive: every November 2, Day of the Dead, a group of women from the Pescaíto neighborhood arrives at the cemetery with candles, rum, and tobacco. They light candles on the abandoned tombs and pray in low voices. They say that "the souls" grant them favors in exchange for not being left alone. This syncretic ritual combines elements of Catholicism with the beliefs of the maroon slaves who arrived in the region in the 18th century.
Current status
Today, the San Miguel Cemetery is a place that inspires both respect and curiosity. During the day, it is a quiet site where families go to clean the tombs of their loved ones. But when night falls, the atmosphere changes completely. The wrought-iron gates, dating from 1880, creak as they open, and the smell of dampness and wilted flowers becomes more intense.
The night tours organized by local historians are the main attraction for travelers seeking alternative experiences. These tours last approximately two hours and cover the most emblematic areas of the cemetery: the immigrants' vault, the mass grave from the cholera epidemic, and the tomb of the "Boy with the Black Hand." The guides, who are native Samarios, not only tell the legends but also explain the historical and cultural context behind each story. They talk about the fusion of Tayrona beliefs, the African worldview, and imposed Catholicism, and how that mixture gave rise to a unique folklore in the Caribbean region.
To participate in one of these tours, you must book at least two weeks in advance, especially during high season. The meeting point is the main entrance of the cemetery, at Calle 10 with Carrera 5, at 7:00 p.m. It is recommended to wear comfortable clothes, closed-toe shoes, and a flashlight, because although the guides carry lamps, there are corners where the darkness is absolute. It is also important to go with respect: flash photography is not allowed in areas where votive candles are lit, nor can you touch the tombs without permission. The cost of the tour is approximately $30,000 COP per person (reference price for May 2026), and the money goes towards the maintenance of the cemetery and historical research projects.
If organized tours are not your thing, you can visit the cemetery on your own during the day. It is open Monday to Saturday, from 8:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m., and entry is free. But if you want the full experience, the one that gives you goosebumps and makes you hear footsteps where there is no one, the night walk is a must. And watch out: some claim that after the tour, something sticks to your clothes. A smell of incense, a whisper that doesn't go away. Locals say it is the soul of Don Emilio, who does not rest until all visitors leave safe and sound.
The esoteric tradition of San Miguel is not a cheap horror show. It is a window into the deep history of Santa Marta, its wounds, and its cultural resistance. It is the Halloween that nobody tells you about in tourist brochures, but that Samarios keep as an open secret. If you dare to experience it, remember: do not turn around if you feel a cold breeze on the back of your neck. It might just be the sea wind. Or it might be #
Join the next night walk with local historians this month. Reservations are made through the Instagram profile of the Fundación Patrimonio Vivo de Santa Marta. The meeting is on the last Friday of each month, at 7:00 p.m., at the gate of the San Miguel Cemetery. Bring your flashlight, leave your fear at home, and get ready to hear the stories that the stones keep.