For Torres and his fellow artisans, the BucaraSanta gathering is less a commercial fair than a collective remembering. The carved wooden figures he produces at Artesanías Torres are the physical shadows of the knowledge he inherited from his elders. He speaks of his craft not as labor, but as a commitment to the dead and the unborn, ensuring that the specific curves and joints of Santander woodwork do not vanish into the anonymity of the industrial age.
Nearby, the park—one of 162 public green spaces that give the city its nickname—becomes a map of regional geography. William Fuentes presents the intricate cutouts of Arte Calado, while the members of the Maleiwa collective work with bejuco vine and cotton, employing techniques that predated the stone cathedrals currently echoing with Holy Week liturgies. These materials are often harvested according to the waning moon, a traditional practice that ensures the plant fibers remain dry and resistant to the rot of the Andean tropics.
The marketplace functions as a fragile but vital bridge between the rural hinterlands of Barichara and Curití and the urban center of Bucaramanga. Supported by IMEBU and Artesanías de Colombia, these family-run microenterprises bring the raw textures of the mountains—fique agave fibers, red clay, and the hard, ivory-like tagua nut—into the city’s historic center. For a few days, the commerce of the street is replaced by the commerce of the soul.
As the sun sets behind the government buildings flanking the square, the artisans begin the slow process of covering their wares. In the hands of people like Torres, the wood remains warm, carrying the heat of the day and the weight of a lineage that refuses to be forgotten.