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Pan American experiences
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Colombia |
COLOMBIA ------------------------------------------845[FEATURE] ANNUAL BURN | |||
The Power of the Año Viejo in ColombiaA Fire that Purifies the Past and Ignites the FutureBy Jazmin Agudelo for Ruta Pantera on 1/2/2026 10:16:57 AM |
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| In Colombia, the Año Viejo isn’t sent off with a quiet toast — it’s burned in the street amid laughter, fireworks, and embraces. At the stroke of midnight on December 31st, entire neighborhoods turn into an open-air theater where the main character is a rag doll: big, ugly, stuffed with sawdust, dressed in old clothes, and painted with a face that looks like it’s mocking everything that is happening. When the flames reach it, people clap, jump, and shout “Burn away the bad!” The collective feeling is that everything onerous, negative or oppressive about the old year is leaving forever.
A Tradition that Goes Way Back The doll – called a muñeca -- represents the year that’s ending, with all its unpaid bills, family fights, unemployment, illnesses, heartbreaks, and painful news. Some neighborhoods give the effigy a specific name: “2025 was a thief,” “The year of unemployment,” “The ex who left me,” “The politician who promised and never delivered.” On the Caribbean coast they dress the doll in a floral shirt and a sombrero vueltiao; in Antioquia they put on a Nacional or Medellín jersey depending on the neighborhood; in small towns they stuff firecrackers inside so it explodes even louder. But everywhere it carries the same message: “Thanks for the lessons, but you can go now.” Some say it began in 1904 in San Juan de Pasto, inspired by the Judas figures burned during Holy Week; others link it to indigenous rituals of renewal and purification by fire. What is certain is that by the early 20th century, effigies were already being burned on the Caribbean coast to celebrate the new year, and by the 1950s the custom had spread across the entire country. Today, it’s as Colombian as coffee or arepas. |
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Hope and New Beginnings
Preparing the Año Viejo is a family event. Starting in mid-December, children collect old clothes, parents gather cardboard and newspapers, and mothers sew torn pants to fill them with sawdust or scraps. In many neighborhoods, one giant doll is made per block: neighbors contribute money, clothes, fireworks, and creativity. On the 30th or 31st, they assemble it right on the street, put on a mask, write the “testament” (a paper listing all the year’s troubles, read aloud with laughter), and position it on a chair until midnight. Some hide rockets, firecrackers, and even small sticks of dynamite inside to make the show more dramatic. When the clock strikes twelve — after the grapes and the lentils — someone lights the fuse. First there’s smoke, then the first flames, and suddenly the doll twists as if it were alive. The way it burns is interpreted too: if it goes up fast and high, the new year will be prosperous; if it stalls or goes out, you help it along with a little gasoline and goodwill. The kids run around it, the adults embrace, and everyone — absolutely everyone — feels the same thing: as the bad turns to ashes, something in the chest feels lighter. Because that is what the Año Viejo means to Colombians: pure, unfiltered hope. Burning it is an act of collective faith that says, “This is where what hurt us ends; now something new begins.” It doesn’t matter whether the year was good or terrible — there’s always something to let go of and something to ask for. “May 2026 bring health,” “May the money be enough,” “May my son find a job,” “May love return,” “May there be no more violence.” The prayers mix with the smoke and rise to the sky along with the remains of the effigy. The next day, January 1st, the street is covered in charcoal and bits of scorched fabric. Someone sweeps, another gathers the wires, and life goes on. But the air feels different: like a chapter burned closed and a new one opened with the certainty that, although nothing is guaranteed, at least we’ve let go of what weighed us down. And so, every December 31st, Colombia buries its sorrows in improvised bonfires and tells the coming year — with the same loud, hopeful voice as always — “Come on in, we’ve been waiting for you with open arms.” |
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References: Caicedo, A. (2021). Fiestas populares colombianas: rituales de fin y comienzo de año. Universidad Nacional de Colombia. Gutiérrez, M. (2023). El Año Viejo: antropología de una tradición de renovación. Editorial Planeta Colombiana. Ministerio de Cultura de Colombia (2024). Patrimonio cultural inmaterial: celebraciones de Año Nuevo en Colombia. Pérez, L. (2022). Fuego y memoria: simbolismo del Año Viejo en la Costa Caribe. Universidad del Atlántico. Restrepo, J. C. (2020). Tradiciones de fin de año en los Andes colombianos. Instituto Colombiano de Antropología e Historia. |
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