When Carla Fodor was principal of the only secondary school in Isla Maciel, she noticed something that deeply concerned her.
Many students were reluctant to say where they lived.
“Many young people had a very diminished view of the place where they lived,” Carla explains. “There was little knowledge about the history, roots, and heritage of the territory, and in many cases, students even felt ashamed to say where they came from.”
Located just across the river from Buenos Aires, Isla Maciel has long carried a strong external stigma, often associated only with violence or crime. Those narratives shaped how young people saw themselves and their community.
That question became the beginning of a project that would eventually grow far beyond the classroom.
A project born from education
The initiative first started as a pedagogical experience.
Students began exploring their own neighbourhood: interviewing residents, documenting stories, and learning about the history and culture of the place they called home.
“It was a way to look at the territory again,” Carla says, “to recover local stories, knowledge, and memories, and to create space for young people to recognize themselves as part of a place with value.”
Two years later, neighbours began to join the initiative. What started as a school project soon evolved into a community effort.
Eventually, the initiative became the Isla Maciel Community Museum, a civil association built and sustained by local residents.
Community Tourism as a new chapter
As the project grew, the community began exploring how visitors could learn about Isla Maciel directly from the people who know it best.
Through community tourism initiatives supported by partners like Planeterra and its travel partners such as G Adventures, travellers are now welcomed to experience the neighbourhood through guided visits and cultural exchanges.
But for Carla, the most meaningful impact goes beyond tourism itself.
“One of the things that makes me most proud is witnessing the transformation of the people involved in the project,” she says.
“Seeing their processes of growth, how they gain confidence, and how they move from participating shyly to becoming active and decisive members continues to teach me every day. The project does not only receive visitors; it also transforms those who sustain it.”
Stories that break stereotypes
Visitors often come to Isla Maciel with curiosity, but they leave with something more.
“Travellers often highlight the closeness, the ease of a hug, and the simplicity of our storytelling,” Carla says.
“They value meeting people who can always add a ‘bonus track’ to the narrative, because what is shared is not memorized, it is lived.”
One of her favourite memories comes from a cultural exchange with a group of secondary school students from Denmark.
Nearly eighty young people arrived with many preconceived ideas about the community and about Argentina.
But those perceptions quickly changed.
“They ended up sharing dulce de leche cake, laughing out loud in an improvised football match, even though they played quite badly,” Carla remembers with a smile.
“By the end, they left hugging us. For me, that says more than any explanation ever could.”
Building something together
Over the years, partnerships, trainings, and collaborations have helped strengthen the organization.
But Carla emphasizes that the project has always been built collectively.
“Our organization was never built alone,” she says.
“When we were just ten people meeting in a cold, dark space, many organizations trusted us when there were no visible results yet. They believed in what we were proposing.”
That trust allowed the community to slowly transform the space, repairing the roof, creating workshops, building an auditorium, and establishing cultural programs.
“Without that network of support, trust, and shared work, we would not be who we are today.”
Looking ahead
For Carla, the future of the initiative is rooted in the same values that guided its creation more than a decade ago.
“I hope this work continues to generate stability and real opportunities, especially for young people,” she says. “I hope families can imagine their future here without feeling that leaving is the only option.”
For her personally, the connection to the community has become deeply meaningful.
“Being called ‘Carla de Maciel’ means more to me than any academic degree,” she says.
“It is a form of belonging that carries enormous meaning.”
And for those who visit Isla Maciel, Carla hopes they leave with one simple realization.
“I would like them to remember that they did not just visit a place, but shared a moment with real people.”
