Radio takes to the streets: a chronicle of the 10th Palique Gathering that has moved the Canary Islands
A radio studio in the heart of Triana
If you were strolling along Triana Street in Las Palmas de Gran Canaria the other day, you might have stumbled upon a sight you don't see every day. Microphones, cables snaking over the cobblestones, and a crowd gathered around a mixing desk. No, it wasn't a film shoot. It was Radio Canaria, which had taken its studios to the street to celebrate something big: the tenth anniversary of Palique, the project that has spent a decade proving that radio is so much more than just a transistor.
You could feel the buzz in the air, honestly. People stopping in their tracks, leaning out of their windows, or sitting on terraces to listen to what was going on. And that's because this live broadcasting, face-to-face with the public, has a special kind of magic. It reminds you that radio can be that too: a loudspeaker for the neighbourhood, for the kids' laughter and the stories from those of us with a few grey hairs.
Ten years of Palique: educating, moving, and transcending
Palique isn't some new-fangled idea. They've been putting education under the microphone for ten school years now. Teachers, students, families... they've all been through its studios (or school playgrounds) to prove that radio communication remains a brilliant tool. Not just for learning to speak well or getting over stage fright, but for building community. For these two days, Triana became the epicentre of that very philosophy.
There was a bit of everything:
- Special live broadcasts with Radio Canaria, linking up with schools from all the islands.
- Workshops for teachers to share tips and experiences on using radio in the classroom. People didn't just come to listen; they came to get stuck in.
- Street-level interviews with the real stars: the students, who talked about what "doing radio" means to them. One lad confessed his favourite part was playing music, and I couldn't help but remember recording tapes of Radiohead classics for my own mates.
- Impromptu musical performances that came straight from the street's own speakers, blending the ambient sound with the airwaves.
The best bit was seeing the generations mix. Grandads wandering over to ask about the old "valves", and kids handling digital mixing desks like pros. Radio belongs to everyone, and in Triana it was clear it doesn't care about age.
The radio that transcends
As Friday evening drew in and the gear started being packed away, people were still chatting around the speakers. You could tell something more than just an official event had happened. In ten years, Palique has achieved what few educational projects manage: it's made people feel it's theirs. A secondary school kid telling you that thanks to radio, he's finally understood teamwork. Or a veteran teacher confessing they'd never seen their students so motivated as when you put a mic in front of them.
Because, at the end of the day, that's what this broadcasting lark is all about. Not just frequencies and kit, but shared emotions. That "good morning" that reaches thousands of homes at breakfast. A song that transports you back. Like when 'Creep' by Radiohead came through the street monitors and everyone, young and old, fell silent for a few seconds, because those lyrics speak of feeling out of place – something we've all felt at some point. The complete opposite of what happened in Triana these past few days: there, we all felt part of something.
Long live Palique. Long live radio.