Radio hits the streets: A chronicle of the 10th Palike festival that has the Canary Islands buzzing
A radio studio in the heart of Triana
If you were strolling down Calle Triana in Las Palmas de Gran Canaria the other day, you might have come across 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 moved its studios to the street to celebrate something big: the tenth anniversary of Palique, a project that has spent a decade proving that radio is much more than just a transistor.
I swear you could feel the energy in the air. People stopped in their tracks, leaned out of their windows, or sat at nearby cafés to listen to what was being cooked up. There's a special magic to live broadcasting, face-to-face with the people. It reminds you that radio can be that – a loudspeaker for the neighbourhood, for the laughter of kids and the stories of those of us with greying hair.
Ten years of Palique: educating, moving, and transcending
Palique isn't some newfangled idea. They've been putting a microphone to education for ten school years now. Teachers, students, families... everyone has passed through its studios (or schoolyards) to prove that radio communication remains a powerful tool. Not just for learning to speak well or overcome stage fright, but for building community. For these two days, Triana became the epicentre of that philosophy.
There was a bit of everything:
- Special live broadcasts with Radio Canaria, connecting with educational institutions 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 their hands dirty.
- On-the-street interviews with the real stars: the students, who shared what "doing radio" means to them. One kid confessed his favourite part is playing music, and I couldn't help but remember recording mixtapes with Radiohead tracks for my friends.
- Impromptu musical performances that blared from the street's own speakers, blending ambient sound with the airwaves.
The best part was seeing the mix of generations. Grandparents asking about the old "vacuum tubes," and kids effortlessly handling digital mixing consoles. Radio belongs to everyone, and in Triana, it was clear it knows no age.
The radio that transcends
As Friday evening fell and the crew began to pack up, people were still hanging around the speakers, chatting. It was clear something more than an official event had happened. In ten years, Palique has achieved what few educational projects do: making people feel it's theirs. Hearing a high school kid say that thanks to radio, they understood what teamwork means. Or an experienced teacher confess they'd never seen their students so motivated as when you put a microphone in front of them.
Because that's what this broadcasting thing is all about, really. Not just frequencies and equipment, but shared emotions. A "good morning" that reaches thousands of homes at breakfast. A song that transports you to another time. Like when 'Creep' by Radiohead played from 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 days: there, we all felt part of something.
Long live Palique. Long live radio.