Although historical research has generated valuable contributions to the interpretation of urban life in Colombian Caribbean cities, particularly in Cartagena de Indias and Santa Marta, recent lines of inquiry, such as historical archaeology and urban archaeology, have provided new data and approaches that bring a different perspective to the analysis of how these urban centers were configured and transformed over time. These new approaches also provide fresh interpretive frameworks regarding the daily life of city inhabitants.

This paper presents a balance of the archaeological studies carried out in the urban area of Cartagena, Barranquilla, and Santa Marta, three of the main cities on the northern coast of Colombia. These studies were mostly developed within the framework of preventive archaeology projects, either in the context of local infrastructure works underway or in architectural restoration activities. Despite the interpretative complexity of these contexts, this effort offers a sensible approach to their particularities (Fig. 1).

Fig. 1
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Location of cities mentioned in the text. Source: Own elaboration

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Reflections on the Exercise of Historical Archaeology and Urban Archaeology

Although historical archaeology and urban archaeology seem like equivalent terms and do share the same object of study, particularly when dealing with historic centers, they have two different approaches to work. Since the 1950s, historical archaeology has addressed the reconfiguration processes of the modern world based on the early globalization processes that began in the fifteenth century (Andren 1998; Hicks and Beaudry 2006; Orser 1996, 2017; Paynter 2000). One might say that historical archaeologists have been working on small scales, such as plantations, shipwrecks, forts, and small towns, with a global perspective (Funari and Ferreira 2016; Orser 1996, 2017). The complex particularities of these processes demand an interdisciplinary perspective, in which archaeology must bring together different sources and lines of evidence.

This approach has gained strength in Latin America since the 1980s, but recently it has taken a critical stance against interpretive models proposed from North America, applying new methodologies that also consider the social and ethical implications of research (Funari and Zarankin 2004). However, there is evidence of certain fragmentations in the exercise of the discipline across the region due to specific social, political, and economic processes taking place in each nation. These have resulted in different methodological approaches and interpretation models (Martin et al. 2012). For example, at first, the approach in Brazil and the Southern Cone was directed almost exclusively towards representing Europeanness. Later research incorporated agendas that focused on other sectors of society, addressing problems such as repression, slavery, resistance, miscegenation, and the construction of ethnic and gender identities (Funari and Ferreira 2016; Martin et al. 2012).

In Colombia, historical archaeology began to develop in the 1990s. Previously, some interventions had been made in historical contexts, however not a consolidated working approach but as specific initiatives driven by the interest evoked by certain characters or milestones renowned in national history and their traces found in some buildings in the historic centers of the country. For example, the archaeological excavations in the Convent of Santa Inés in Bogotá, with the search for the grave of the director of the New Granada’s botanical expedition José Celestino Mutis (Duque Gómez 1960), or the explorations in the Palace of Inquisition in Cartagena (Correal 1994). However, continuous research programs carried out mainly in Bogotá, Cartagena, and Villa de Leyva, have proven the need to understand the complex dynamics that took place with the confluence of Indigenous groups, Europeans, and Africans, representing the early social configurations that shaped these towns (Therrien et al. 2002; Therrien 2013). Furthermore, we have come to understand that it is essential to establish categories of analysis that transcend the archaeological studies commonplace of assuming human groups to be discrete and homogeneous units, taking not only ethnic representations into account, but also considering the power relations that were established since the sixteenth century (Therrien 2013:12). Thus, the studies conducted on the material culture and stratigraphic sequences of archaeological sites in Colombia have yielded valuable insights into various aspects, including the continuity and transformation of the meaning behind the production and use of material culture (Martinón-Torres et al. 2018; Ome 2006; Therrien et al. 2002), living and mortality conditions of the colonial and republican population (Rivera-Sandoval 2004, 2006, 2014; Rojas-Sepúlveda et al. 2020), the African diaspora (Buitrago 2010; Patiño Castaño 2020; Suaza Español 2006), the consolidation of capitalist models, the adoption of modern mentalities (Gaitán Ammann 2005), and industrialization (Therrien 2004, 2007a).

In contrast, urban archaeology studies the relationships between material culture, human behavior, and mental processes in an urban settlement, approaching the city as a socially constructed landscape that has been perceived and transformed over time (Staski 1982:97–98). This includes not only the processes that gave rise to the city, but also previous events that have occurred in those same spaces, without favoring any specific chronological period. In the case of the American context, pre-Hispanic Indigenous settlements located in the space currently occupied by urban centers are included (Álvarez-Calderón 2016; Rodríguez-Alegría 2005; Spores and García 2007).

The complexity of these concepts has been reflected in the research methodologies and management strategies accompanying these initiatives. This has a profound impact on the interpretation models of city histories and the design of protection and urban planning policies (Quirós Castillo 2014). However, preventive or intervention archaeology poses a challenge for research and management dynamics, often falling short of meeting the objectives proposed in both spheres. In Europe, attention has been drawn to the accelerated process of change that cities have undergone to adapt to the needs of the globalized world, which has considerably affected their archaeological heritage (Quirós Castillo 2014:110).

This situation is not much different in Latin America, except that a large portion of the management plans are often circumstantial in nature and do not effectively execute the intended preventive actions. This particularly reflects the situation that Colombian archaeology is experiencing, where even though contract archaeological projects have increased considerably in the last ten years (Londoño 2016), there are still no clear guidelines for the execution and evaluation of archaeological management plans. In our case, it is the Colombian Institute of Anthropology and History (ICANH), the entity responsible for defining the guidelines that must be followed in the preventive archaeology proposals. However, these measures have proven ineffective in relation to what is expected in these projects, especially in the face of specificities of urban contexts. In fact, there are no follow-ups to most interventions, and although a large amount of data is being generated, these efforts translate into little to no impact on interpretation models regarding lifestyles of past populations, leaving much of the information in gray literature through technical reports. Londoño (2016) compares the number of preventive archaeology programs carried out between 2008 and 2015 (600) with the number of publications regarding their results in specialized journals (35). This reflects the lack of articulation with the academic field and poor instrumentality. Additionally, many of the works carried out in urban spaces do not use methodologies that account for contextual specificities, which limits both the creation of new interpretation models and the potential contributions to heritage protection policies.

The following discussion will briefly introduce archaeological research in three of the main cities of the Colombian Caribbean. It is worth noting that other initiatives in the Caribbean region also provide important data for Colombian historical archaeology. For example, interventions made in Santa María La Antigua del Darién, the first city founded on the continental territory (Alzate 2011; Arcila 1986; Sarcina 2017), offer valuable insights into the early colonial period. Similarly, excavations in Mompox, the most important river port on the Magdalena River during the colonial period (Pérez-Díaz 2020; Martinón-Torres et al. 2018), have revealed important information about the city’s economic and cultural history.

Cartagena: Conventual, Domestic, and Defensive Settings

In 1953, while maintenance works were being carried out on the airstrip of the Cartagena airport in the Crespo neighborhood, the appearance of various archaeological artifacts began to be recorded. Months later, spouses Alicia Dussan and Gerardo Reichel Dolmatoff conducted an archaeological excavation there in which they identified a previously unknown ceramic tradition. Similar materials had been found on the islands of Baru and Tierra Bomba, and even in the Darien area, so an association was made (Dussan de Reichel 1954). This was the first archaeological work recorded in the urban area of the city and served as the basis for building the ceramic typology and approaching the lifestyles of the pre-Hispanic populations of Lower Magdalena, also known as the Malibu peoples.

After almost 40 years, other archaeological research projects have been carried out in the city’s historic center, revealing the diverse use of space in the city during colonial times. However, all these initiatives have been involved in preventive archaeology projects for the restoration of BIC buildings. The first reference to an archaeological exploration in this sector was in the early 1990s, in the Palace of Inquisition, a building that was constructed starting in 1629. This descriptive work showed certain methodological problems in the registration of contextual and artifactual information, which impacted the type of interpretation made. These issues stemmed from the implementation of methodologies used in pre-Hispanic contexts, which are not necessarily the most appropriate for historical urban contexts.

Archaeological excavations conducted in the Palace of Inquisition aimed to gather information for the restoration project based on the architectural changes over time, as evident from the excavated construction elements such as foundations, floors, walls, and cisterns. Although the main focus was not on the daily activities of the past occupants, some discovered materials provide clues, including local and foreign pottery production, archaeofauna remains resulting from consumption activities, and bone artifacts (Correal Urrego 1994).

The practice of incorporating archaeology into building restoration projects continues to this day. In addition to providing answers to architectural questions, new models of interpretation can shed light on the social sectors that comprised colonial and republican Cartagena society, exploring continuity and cultural change over four centuries of history.

Following this perspective, in the late 1990s, Monika Therrien established a research program on the history of Cartagena and the coexisting lifestyles of its population. She analyzed archaeological evidence from several sites in the city, using this approach in other Colombian cities as well (Therrien 2002; Therrien et al. 2002). Her research in Cartagena focused on conventual and domestic contexts, as well as the local production of ceramics.

Therrien (2007b) conducted excavations in the Jesuits’ College and Dominican Convent, comparing the material culture of these two sites. She questioned the interpretations that archaeology has made about the acculturation process, specifically the presence of foreign materials instead of local ones, in the incorporation of the Spanish lifestyle in the sixteenth century. This exposed the need to consider the processes of resistance and identity construction by Indigenous and African populations.

Her research noted that despite Cartagena’s prominence in the Caribbean commercial circuit, there is a lack of representation of imported materials in the archaeological record. She also found that the Convent of Santo Domingo used ceramics of Indigenous and, probably, African manufacture more frequently, indicating the continuity of these practices. In contrast, the Jesuits’ College recorded the local production of earthenware with European technologies and forms, which was likely used to teach European habits (Therrien 2002, 2007b). Therrien (2002:36) also observed differences in the archaeofauna, with European species predominating in the Jesuits’ College while the Dominican Convent mostly consumed local fauna such as turtles, birds, fish, and mollusks.

Regarding the local production of earthenware with a European style, some researchers have begun to generate interpretations, particularly in the pottery factory on the island of Tierra Bomba, known as El Tejar de San Bernabé and owned by the Jesuits. These studies indicate that these materials were produced to supply the city with construction materials and utensils used in European-style tableware and kitchens (such as majolica and glazed ceramics) due to the difficulty and costs of importing these elements from Europe. Researchers have even proposed that this production was part of the commercial circuits in the Greater Caribbean (Báez Santos 2019; Fandiño 2000; Therrien et al. 2002). In fact, the majolica produced in Cartagena apparently corresponds to the marineware ceramic type reported by Deagan (1987:95–96).

Differences in pottery consumption in colonial Cartagena can also be observed in domestic contexts, particularly in the use of Indigenous-tradition pottery versus local and imported earthenware. For instance, in the house of La Tablada, located on the outskirts of the San Diego neighborhood, which was inhabited by artisans and small merchants, ceramics of Indigenous tradition were most commonly used (Fandiño 2000; Therrien et al. 2002). Similarly, excavations at Casa Torrezar revealed differences related to the uses of space within the house (Uprimny 2002). However, the connection with the Indigenous world in the colonial period is more evident in the Governor’s Palace, a public building that served as a government house in the second half of the seventeenth century. There, explorations demonstrated continuity in the use of space since the pre-Hispanic period, represented not only in ceramics but also in shell artifacts (Therrien 2021).

Another perspective of research is associated with funerary practices during the colonial period and most of the nineteenth century. These practices were carried out on the floors of temples and convents. For example, in 2002, the Cloister of Santo Domingo was excavated, and the graves of 22 children were identified. Despite the small sample size, this context provided valuable information to reconstruct the mortuary patterns of the colonial period, particularly of this population sector, which is virtually invisible in the historical documentation (Díaz 2004; Rivera-Sandoval 2004).

In addition, the old convent of San Francisco, located in the Getsemani neighborhood, one of the oldest religious spaces in the city, was also excavated. At least nine funerary spaces were identified, containing approximately 940 individuals of both sexes and different ages and ethnic origins. Although this osteological collection is still under analysis, it will be an important database for understanding the living conditions of the Cartagena population between the sixteenth and nineteenth centuries (Therrien et al. 2019) (Fig. 2).

Fig. 2
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Location of the archaeological sites mentioned in Cartagena. (1) House of La Tablada. (2) Casa Torrezar. (3) Former San Agustin Square. (4) Convent of Santo Domingo. (5) Palace of the Inquisition. (6) Governor’s Palace. (7) Jesuits’ College. (8) Bulwark of San Agustin and wall. (9) Convent of San Francisco. (10) Cartagena airport runway. 11. Tejar de San Bernabe Factory. Source: On map and adapted.

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Some archaeologists who have worked in Cartagena have focused their attention on the dynamics of the urban infrastructure. For instance, in excavations carried out near the Plaza de los Estudiantes, formerly San Agustin square, in the historic center, researchers obtained data on the city’s guidelines for water management during the colonial period and its impact on the health conditions of the population (Uprimny and Lobo Guerrero 2007).

In fact, when Pedro de Heredia arrived on the island of Calamar in 1530, he decided to settle in the Indigenous dwellings while evaluating the feasibility of founding Cartagena there. Despite its excellent spatial conditions for a port, the water supply was not sufficient for the needs of a city (Therrien 1989). This has been a recurring problem, even to this day, and archaeologically it is related to the construction of wells in public squares and various cisterns in domestic and convent spaces throughout the city.

Archaeologists have found a cistern from the seventeenth century precisely on the site of Plaza de los Estudiantes. By the eighteenth century, the construction of new cisterns and a rainwater channeling system indicated a growing complexity in hydraulic structures, which continued until the installation of the aqueduct in 1930. Additionally, the old San Agustin square well was discovered in a current household, suggesting that the space of the square was reduced, as is typical in city urban planning adjustments (Uprimny and Lobo Guerrero 2007).

It is noteworthy that despite much of Cartagena’s history being built on its fortifications and its role as a stronghold (Marchena Fernández 1982), little information is accessible on this account from an archaeological perspective. Although some work has been carried out, with serious shortcomings from the methodological and interpretive point of view in fortification structures in Tierra Bomba (Del Cairo 2009), the work done in the bulwark of San Ignacio and the stretch of the wall that goes to the bulwark of San Francisco Javier are the only references from inside the walled city. This exploration identified the renovation in this section of the wall, where rows of canoes filled with waste material (ceramics, fauna, glass, etc.) were used and served to contain the water while the works were carried out (Del Cairo et al. 2009; Del Cairo and García 2010). To date, no such findings have been reported elsewhere.

Barranquilla: From an Indigenous Village to a River Port

Urban archaeology in Barranquilla finds its antecedents in the works of Spanish engineer Antonio Luis Armenta for the adaptation of the city’s tramway as well as other urban infrastructure works carried out in the late nineteenth and early twentyth centuries. In his report, Armenta talks about the discovery of a pre-Hispanic Indigenous “necropolis” in what is now known as Barrio Abajo, an area that is part of the Historic Center of Barranquilla. In this regard, Armenta comments: “In many other places within the perimeter that I have delimited, clay pots with bones of human skeletons have been unearthed during superficial excavations for foundations of dividing walls of rooms and other similar works” (Pérez de Barradas 1943:6). [Translated from Spanish]

Despite the excitement generated by the discovery, it was not possible to conduct a more thorough analysis of the materials or their archaeological context. Nonetheless, the people of Barranquilla have preserved the memory of the Barrio Abajo area as an ancient pre-Hispanic cemetery. No further discoveries of this kind were reported until the early 1950s. At that time, the city’s historians did not believe that pre-Hispanic populations had occupied Barranquilla, as there were no ethnohistorical sources to confirm their presence in the area (Angulo Valdés 1954, 1992; Blanco Barros 2011).

In 1953, during municipal public works north of the city, Carlos Angulo Valdés, a pioneer of archaeology in the Colombian Caribbean, recorded several fortuitous finds. He recovered various elements of material culture associated with pre-Hispanic groups (Angulo Valdés 1954) and initiated a research project to survey a large sector of the northwestern part of the city. There, he found several ceramic fragments, remains of archaeofauna (osseous and malacological) and lithic material. However, he was unable to clearly establish explanations about the chronology or occupation patterns of pre-Hispanic populations, though he suggested that they were settlements of horticulturists and fishermen (Angulo Valdés 1992).

In 2015, the area identified by Armenta as a pre-Hispanic “necropolis” in Barrio Abajo was reinvestigated as part of the expansion of one of the city’s roads. The explorations used the zoning proposed by Armenta 100 years ago as a reference. The investigation showed that this space was not only used as a burial place, but also as a living area for Indigenous populations, as evidenced by the identification of living areas and garbage dumps. The material culture and remains of archaeofauna suggested that it was a fishing village associated with the Malibu groups of the Lower Magdalena, with locals depending on aquatic resources from river and swamp environments for subsistence. In addition, the information obtained from radiocarbon analysis and the material culture associated with early Spanish ceramics allowed for the establishment of a chronology of occupation from 1220 CE until the early sixteenth century (Rivera-Sandoval 2018) (Fig. 3).

Fig. 3
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Archaeological explorations in Barrio Abajo, Barranquilla. Source: Photo by the author

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In 1947, Paul Rivet published a work on the Indigenous inhabitants who played a fundamental role in the strategies of expansion over the region to the west of the Magdalena River during the conquest. Using chronicles, Rivet (1947) describes the aquatic landscapes in which the Malibu groups inhabited, particularly the relationship they established with the river, the swamp complex, and the connection with the sea, allowing them to maintain control of a large territory and establish exchange networks with neighboring populations, including the Tairona and Zenu peoples. This same knowledge would later be used by the Spanish conquerors to advance and found upriver towns, as well as explore the circulation routes of products that sustained the economy of the region during much of the colonial period.

Additionally, the archaeological explorations in Barrio Abajo provide information on the urban configuration of this sector of the city since the second half of the nineteenth century, when the neighborhood was built after the exponential growth that Barranquilla had due to the port and trade activities through the Magdalena River. Paradoxically, these same processes have had a profound effect on the city’s architectural and archaeological heritage, because of inadequate heritage protection policies (Macchi Jánica 2000). In fact, very few buildings from the colonial and republican periods remain standing.

In 2007, restoration works were carried out on the church of San Nicolas de Tolentino, located in the historic center of Barranquilla. The church was constructed in the eighteenth century, after the transfer of the old seventeenth-century temple that was built a few meters from its current location (Lobo Guerrero and Uprimny 2009). The church’s construction was modest and consistent with the small free town that had been established there. In fact, Barranquilla was not established like other colonial towns, but rather it grew from a rochela that developed around the activities of the San Nicolas hacienda and smuggling on the Magdalena River (Lugo Vega 2000). Rochelas, or free sites, were permanent or sporadic settlements formed outside the regulations of Castilian law regarding foundations, where the descendants of the complex processes of biological and cultural miscegenation gathered in rural areas of Santa Marta, Mompox, and Cartagena (Herrera Ángel 2002; Sánchez Mejía 2015).

Moreover, the ceramics uncovered during church excavations suggest a continuity in the use of the space from the pre-Hispanic period until at least the eighteenth century (Lobo Guerrero and Uprimny 2009:104–105). The same pattern was observed in the excavations of Barrio Abajo, where continuity in pottery practices of Indigenous tradition persisted until at least the mid-twentyth century (Rivera-Sandoval 2018). However, the simplicity of the colonial period contrasts with the repairs made to the temple in the latter half of the nineteenth century, which responded to the urban dynamics of the city at that time. With the arrival of migrants from various regions of the Colombian Caribbean and foreign investors who saw port activities as a lucrative business opportunity, the temple underwent significant changes. This shift is evident in the archaeological record, which shows an increasing proportion of imported materials (Lobo Guerrero and Uprimny 2009:109).

In addition, in the San Nicolas area, recovery activities were carried out in 2010 to reclaim public space in the square, and some archaeological explorations took place (Cifuentes and Salas 2010). However, limitations in data recording during the development of these excavations impacted the interpretive model. Although the presence of material from the republican period is reported, and hydraulic structures compatible with cisterns appear in report images, no analysis is made regarding these elements or how they were used in the daily life of city inhabitants (Cifuentes and Salas 2010).

Barranquilla’s potential regarding its pre-Hispanic, colonial, and republican pasts is evident. This potential could be further explored with future research if it is able to incorporate active urban growth into the exploration process.

Santa Marta: “A Pearl in the Rough”

Santa Marta, often referred to as the “Colombian Caribbean pearl,” contrasts with Cartagena in that it has not received the same level of attention in urban archaeology, despite its founding in 1525 and the complex interactions that occurred between Indigenous peoples, Africans, and Europeans. The city’s proximity to the Sierra Nevada may have contributed to a greater emphasis on pre-Hispanic archaeology among researchers. Nevertheless, some urban archaeological work has been undertaken in Santa Marta in response to initiatives aimed at the intervention and restoration of cultural assets.

In 2009, during the renovations of the Plaza Bolívar in the historic center, some probing was conducted which resulted in the recovery of cultural artifacts. These findings provide evidence of the long history of occupation in the area, spanning from pre-Hispanic to republican times (Cifuentes and Salas 2009). However, similar to the works carried out in San Nicolas square in Barranquilla, there was no clear strategy in place to ensure accurate recording of archaeological contexts and thorough analysis of materials (Fig. 4).

Fig. 4
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The House of Customs, headquarters of the Gold Museum in Santa Marta. Source: Photo by the author

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Between 2009 and 2013, renovations were carried out on the Gold Museum’s headquarters located in the old customs house in the Plaza Bolívar area. Archaeological explorations conducted during this period allowed for the identification of the building’s evolutionary process. According to local tradition, the people of Santa Marta had believed it to be “the oldest house in America.” However, it was determined that the building dated back only to the eighteenth century, although it likely occupied the area where older houses had been demolished or destroyed by fires that the city had experienced. In addition, the recovered material culture provided evidence of the pre-Hispanic occupation of the sector and the changes that occurred after the conquest, including the implementation of a new system of thought (Rivera-Sandoval et al. 2010; Rivera et al. 2013).

The archaeological explorations also uncovered hydraulic structures such as pipes, latrines, and a cistern used for water supply during the eighteenth-century occupation of the house (Rivera et al. 2013). However, these findings highlighted the need for more systematic work to cross-check and analyze the urbanization of Santa Marta from a comparative perspective. This could relate to the ongoing renovation initiatives in the city driven by tourism and the policies of the current local administrations.

Discussion

The complexity and diversity of processes that shaped the three cities discussed in this review is evident, as reflected in the particularities of the archaeological contexts and research questions surrounding daily practices in both public and private spaces. Although this is clearer in some cases than in others, it is essential to construct analysis and interpretation models using an interdisciplinary approach. These models can showcase the nuances alongside the range of subjects involved, interaction scenarios, experiences, and perspectives. Doing so can provide evidence of the processes of continuity and change that were shaping these urban settlements.

In this regard, Cressey and Stephens (1982) present an interdisciplinary perspective on how methodological proposals in archaeology can contribute to the study of cities. Their city-site model proposes several levels and categories of analysis for studying the spatial, structural, and sociopolitical relationships of the urban core and its periphery. Although their research focuses on hierarchical urban organizations during the industrialization period between the eighteenth and twentieth centuries, there are some commonalities that can be applied to Cartagena, Barranquilla, and Santa Marta.

A holistic and comparative approach is necessary to understand the configuration of urban landscapes, including temporal and spatial relationships and material dimensions. This approach involves studying the physical manifestation in the landscape and the artifactual evidence that explains the processes of urban conformation and daily life in the city (Cressey and Stephens 1982). Furthermore, this information can be used to design urban planning policies that protect a city’s historical, architectural, and archaeological heritage.

While the cities of the Colombian Caribbean share a common historical context, they each experienced unique processes that shaped their development. Therefore, it is essential that the analysis of the urban landscape considers these differences and is supported by various sources such as cartography, GIS, archival documents, architecture, archaeological records, and oral tradition. For instance, all three cities have evidence of pre-Hispanic occupation that influenced daily practices, which were then modified after the arrival of Europeans in the sixteenth century. Historical archaeology in these cities should incorporate elements from the pre-contact period to understand how aspects of daily life were maintained or changed.

On the other hand, Cartagena and Santa Marta were both Spanish foundations strategically located for territorial control and expansion, as well as for commerce within the Caribbean. This led to the construction of defensive infrastructure in both cities, but only Cartagena emerged as a military center or Plaza Fuerte during the colonial period. In contrast, Barranquilla was a small and relatively insignificant settlement until the mid-nineteenth century when it became the most important river port in the country due to the political and economic crisis in Cartagena and Santa Marta, as well as the increasing use of steam navigation on the Magdalena River. These historical events had a profound impact on the design, construction, and transformation of these cities, which can be observed in their public infrastructure, making it a relevant context for archaeological research.

To analyze sociocultural aspects and relations in the city and with the city, it is crucial to identify the practices and subjects involved in urban daily life, which are not necessarily confined to specific areas of the city. This situation is evident in the three cases of the Colombian Caribbean. Despite the colonial policies that aimed to keep European, African, and Indigenous peoples separate, there was a permanent fluctuation of these limits in practice. Even different social sectors converged in the same space, resulting in biological and cultural miscegenation that characterizes the three cities and is now part of their identity and cultural traditions. Through the study of materiality, such as spatial and artifactual data, it is possible to identify these processes. For example, in the case of religious spaces, all population sectors shared, to a greater or lesser extent, the sacredness of the temples.

Historical archaeology in urban contexts presents a challenge in reconciling with current urban dynamics, requiring us to ask how archaeology can be integrated with public policies and urban management plans developed by government institutions in line with the city’s needs. This integration should involve actively creating tools and proposals that can be used in urban planning, with a priority on protecting the city’s heritage (cultural, historical, architectural, environmental, archaeological, etc.) and establishing links between citizens, their sense of identity, and their city’s past.

Moreover, it is crucial to strengthen the legal framework for protecting urban archaeological heritage. While some adjustments have been made to the regulations and guidelines for the execution of preventive archaeology programs in Colombia, they do not account for the specificities of urban contexts. Additionally, the responsibility for implementing archaeological projects is often left to the discretion of those in charge of works that do not require environmental licensing, as stipulated by Decree 2106 of 2019. This loophole has been frequently exploited in the urban areas, further highlighting the need for a more comprehensive and stringent legal framework to protect urban archaeological heritage.

Urbanization has a significant impact on archaeological heritage, and poses many challenges and risks, particularly due to the lack of training among archaeologists in working with urban contexts. Researchers should adopt different methodologies and perspectives when approaching these contexts, distinct from those used in pre-Hispanic archaeology. It is also important to recognize that urban environments are not uniform and vary significantly. This issue has been highlighted by other researchers in South American historical contexts (Funari 2005; Jamieson 2005).

Archaeology projects should be part of broader research programs that address different scales, not just the specific aspects of the site being studied, but also how that context is connected to daily life in the city-site. The spatial, artifactual, and sociocultural perspectives of analysis outlined in the Cressey and Stephens’ model (1982) can help achieve this. Additionally, it is important to establish comparative models with other cities in the region, considering the differences in sociocultural practices that shape the identity of each urban establishment. These differences emerge in response to territorial control policies during the process of conquest and colonization, but some shared elements remain.

Unfortunately, the situation of urban archaeology in the Colombian Caribbean does not align with the research goals of archaeology. Since the mid-1990s, Therrien (1996) has noted that archaeological work in historical or urban sites often occurs because of fortuitous events rather than a desire to address specific research questions. Therrien identifies three types of scenarios: (1) apparently pre-Hispanic contexts that, with radiocarbon dating, are revealed to be more recent; (2) a lack of funding for proposals in historical archaeology, often due to the belief that historical documentation alone can explain the dynamics of the post-contact period; and (3) limited funding sources for research in historical archaeology, often restricted to proposals for the restoration of buildings of cultural interest (BIC). Although a more robust body of data now exists, enabling the development of several models interpreting the daily life of urban populations in the past, the presentation of this data is uneven across the three cases addressed.

Conclusion

Since their inception, American cities have unintentionally become multiethnic and multicultural centers, with colonial populations congregating around institutional spaces (Chiavazza 2010:223). While inhabitants were seemingly organized based on social roles, in practice, Indigenous people, enslaved Africans, and Europeans circulated throughout the city, fulfilling various functions, and establishing daily dynamics that imparted a distinct character to each urban site.

In this way, historical archaeology approaches modernity as a process rather than a specific chronological period, with a focus on the perspective that is built from the present (Hall and Silliman 2006). By utilizing appropriate theoretical and methodological frameworks, it is possible to identify the diverse sociocultural structures that comprised American society during this period, including individual and collective practices, and to examine the social changes reflected in the material culture. Furthermore, this approach can help to explore how these ideas shaped the construction of identity and memory among contemporary populations.

Archaeologists can also gain insights into the daily lives of past populations, shedding light on the drivers of inequality and the changes that occurred over time. The study of everyday life does not necessarily entail examining regularities; in fact, it also involves investigating heterogeneity and discontinuities. Thus, activities related to cooking, food, health, hygiene, illness, death, and other events provide fertile ground for archaeological analysis, which can help elucidate the dynamics and processes of assimilation, imposition, transformation, and abandonment of sociocultural practices (Therrien 2007b).

In summary, the circumstances surrounding urban archaeology in Colombia compel us to adopt a critical perspective not only toward the methodologies used to document these sites, but also toward the regulations formulated (or lack thereof) by government institutions, particularly the Colombian Institute of Anthropology and History. Despite guidelines for preventive archaeology being proposed since the late 1990s (Rivera-Sandoval and Martín-Rincón 2018:446–447), effective measures specifically designed for urban archaeological contexts have not been established. Typically, the same measures used for rural sites are applied to urban areas.