Pride of Medellin

Excerpt from my journal, October 31st, 2005:
The day slips away with warm feelings--warm feelings of friendship, of reuniting with people who shared something extremely special with me; warm feelings of a cool afternoon strolling through vibrant Medellin streets and art museums; warm feelings of a traveller's bug once again full of wanderlust for knowing a new city. There is the noise of happy boys singing Colombian pop songs outside my window, with an ease of easy, colorful youth that I feel I have forgotten...

I am beginning to understand the profound complexities of this misunderstood Colombian world, but only after accepting the harsh fact that I can't change life and I can't motivate people and I can't alter the past of a country soaked in violence yet prized in sunshine and a lightness of spirit. The history of Medellin is not simple, nor is it necessary to expound on Pablo Escobar and his famous cocaine cartels deep inside the spirit of this city, for that would be stereotypical and thus ruin what I am trying to say. I sit here, I experience a phenomenon:

I see the security roadblocks dotted along the highways, full of police officers in green uniforms and army boots stopping Santi's car and asking each one of us "Adonde va?" (Where are you going?) "Y porque?" (And why?) he adds, squinting at each one to search for lies. He finishes by ordering Santi to pop his trunk, so that he can rummage around for car bombs.

I experience the parking decks and shopping malls in Medellin, which are also chained with policia in their cliche Colombian war gear and stoic faces: we pull into El Tesoro, and, as usual, are stopped by a security checkpoint at the gate. The policemen circle our car like vultures upon fresh meat, then indicate for Santi to unlock his trunk, so that they can again quickly yet thoroughly rustle everything around until they are fully satisfied that we are nothing to be afraid of.

I think of yesterday, as Adri's aunt pulled up to the gated entrance of Sena, Adri's work, where we had planned to meet for an afternoon tour of the Medellin farms. I remember the same set of invading questions: "Porque estan aqui?" (Why are you here?) "Quien conocen aqui?" (Who do you know here?) "En cual departamento trabaja ella?" (In which department does she work?) "Cuales son sus nombres?" (What are your names?) "Que dijeron es la razon que estan aqui?" (What did you say your reason for being here is?) After successfully answering the rudimentary set of inquiries, we were then required to display our cedulas (Colombian identification cards), handing them to the police so they could do a quick search through the computer for any past offences that would disable us from passing through the gates to pick up our friend.

I think about the fact that it is not permitted to take photos indoors at any public place, regardless of your innocent or turistic intentions; I remember asking why, after being grabbed on the shoulders by a haughty security officer for pulling out my camera, and being shocked to learn that it is because of a long and horrifying history of bombs being strategically placed inside commercial centers. I learned the obvious fact that photos can aid in identifying trash cans, open spaces, hidden security cameras, and other useful information when calculating the best place to hide a ticking bomb.

I see the Bird of Peace, a testimony in the center square to the FARC's bombing of the city's artwork....the two men being roughly patted-down by police in public on two different occasions....the fact that Adri was frightened to enter the barrio of Santo Domingo because of tales of violence occuring there....

And then I wonder, how despite this pain and precautious world deep inside this huge, sprawling city, I spent a fantastic and inspiring weekend here, and felt pride and wonderment for a city so strongly connected to its roots. I wonder how Adri's mom can tell me that yes, she is content and has lived a happy life, and how Adri and Santi can both harmoniously tell me that Medellin is, by far, the best city in Colombia and their favorite place in the world. It is these things, these contrasts of faces, that Colombia holds, that eternally fascinate me.