Aruba’s History, Language, and Trade
Field Notes: Aruba, Caribbean
Date: December 10-20, 2020
Trade and What It Leaves Behind
Aruba’s history is tied to what it produces, what the land and sea have offered, and what industries have taken in return. My first stop was the aloe farms, where rows of green stretch across the island’s dry, desert-like terrain. Aloe has been part of Aruba’s economy for over a century, exported worldwide for its medicinal properties. Unlike tourism, which often demands more from the island than it gives back, aloe is one of the few industries that works with the landscape rather than against it.
Trade has shaped Aruba in cycles. Gold mining in the 1800s left behind crumbling mills, their massive stone ruins now part of the coastline. In the 20th century, oil refining transformed the island into a major energy hub, its refineries fueling economies far beyond the Caribbean. Today, tourism dominates, replacing trade routes with hotels and cruise ships. Some remnants of the past remain, preserved historical sites, well-maintained for visitors. Others have been left to time, fading into the background, overtaken by development or neglect. The island keeps shifting, shaped by industries that rise and fall…
Tracing History Through Landmarks
The California Lighthouse sits high above the coastline, built in the early 1900s to guide ships after a wrecked steamship, the California, sank offshore. The view stretches endlessly, the coastline rugged and wild in a way that doesn’t feel touristy, at least not yet.
At Fort Zoutman, the oldest structure on the island, Dutch colonial influence is undeniable. Built in the 1700s for protection, it now stands as a reminder of Aruba’s time under European rule.
The nearby National Archaeological Museum tells an even older story, showcasing artifacts from the Indigenous Caquetío people, who lived here long before the Dutch or Spanish ever arrived. Their presence is still felt in words, in customs, in traces left behind in the land.
The Alto Vista Chapel, small and unassuming, stands on a quiet hill where the first Catholic mission was built in the 1700s. It’s simple, without the grandeur of European cathedrals, but it fits the landscape, humble and enduring.
At Lourdes Grotto, a concealed shrine carved into the rock, a statue of the Virgin Mary overlooks the island. These locations offer a contrasting ambiance compared to the bustling tourist areas; they exude tranquility and contemplation, linked to a history that is not as prominently promoted.
Then there’s Arikok National Park, covering nearly 20% of the island, feels like another world. The land is raw: caves, limestone cliffs, cactus-filled hills, and wind-carved formations. It’s easy to forget that Aruba isn’t all beaches; it’s rugged, shaped by the elements. The caves, once used by Indigenous communities, still hold ancient rock paintings. Standing inside, looking at markings left centuries ago, it’s impossible not to think about how many people have passed through this land, each leaving something behind.
A Melting Pot of Cultures
Walking through Aruba, the mix of cultures is everywhere. Papiamento is spoken on the streets, blending Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, African, and Indigenous influences into a language unique to the island. Dutch remains the official language, but English and Spanish are just as common. The island’s diversity isn’t just in language, it’s in the people.
I was surprised to meet so many Indian families living here, running businesses, working in different sectors, fully integrated into the island’s culture. There’s also a steady flow of Dutch students who come to Aruba for summer work, drawn by the easy transition from the Netherlands to its Caribbean counterpart. They bring their own influence, cafés with European-style pastries, Dutch grocery stores but they’re temporary, here for a season before returning home. The island feels like a crossroads, a place where people arrive, stay for a while, and leave their mark.
What Stays, What Changes
Aruba’s history isn’t something that sits behind museum glass it’s still alive in the land, the people, and the way the island continues to shift. The balance between past and present, conservation and development, is ongoing. Some places are preserved, like the aloe farms and historic forts. Others fade into the background, overtaken by tourism or left to time. The island keeps changing, shaped by the people who move through it some staying, some just passing by, but all leaving something behind.
