Assasination Cradel

Medellín was the cocaine capital of the world in the 80´s and 90´s. It is estimated that Pablo Escobar´s cartel provided 90 percent of the cocaine exports from Latin America. Coca leaves, grown in Bolivia, Peru and Ecuador are processed in Medellín into an enticing addictive white powder and then trafficked via sophisticated smuggling methods. Most of the shipments went to the US in response to the growing appetite for the glamorous drug.

During its darkest days, Medellín was named the most murderous city in the world. People were murdered in the streets, shopping malls, police stations and in airplanes on an all too regular basis--so much so that burying loved ones became a normal part of Colombian´s lives. The people who suffered the most, not surprisingly, were the poor who lived in barrios. These slums became a breeding ground for recruits for the cartel´s army. Young boys with no other opportunities were perfect victims for these powerful organized criminals.

Except for some famous sites seized by the government and occasional bullet holes scattered buildings, the traces of this shawody and violent history, which most Paisas would rather forget, are not easy to find on the surface. Medellin´s renaissance is in part thanks to a paisa president and more likely due to innovative public and civic policy. Since Pablo Escobar was killed in his non-descript suburban home, Medellin has cleaned up its act. The city is a clean modern metropolis home to beautiful parks, museums and state of the art buildings.

Visiting the barrios, which is a pleasant ride on the recently installed metro cable is something that outsiders did not dare six or seven years ago. Everyone with whom I visited in this part of Medellín say it is like a different world now. However, they were quick to warn extranjeros that it is not safe to leave the area patrolled by police. There are still plenty of robbers who are quick to take advantage of tourists carrying money and expensive cameras. While no longer the 'assasination cradle', the area has a long way to go in terms of development and safety.



I found this area to be the most alive and real part of Medellín, especially when contrasted with the sterilized wealthy part of town, El Poblado, where most travelers stay because of the lack of any other option. The barrios are bustling with kids riding down steep hills on a single roller skate, vendors peddling refreshing sugar cane lime drinks, workers loading mules with cinder blocks, and old men sharing stories over a cup of coffee and cigarette.

We met a well versed barrio kid who offered to tell us 'la historia' and help us find a place to eat. "La nueva bibloteca cuesta sies milliones dolares...." the story began. Jogan recalled when he was just three years old how dangerous the streets where in his neighborhood, as he pointed his fingers in the shape of a guns. Jogan is nine years old. That was a powerful reminder of how little time had passed since the place in which we were enjoying a meal was a murderous zone where the poor were terrorized and held hostage in their own homes by the cartels.

Coconut Bombs

Our journey started in Bogota, a city with a rich and tumultuous history buzzing with beautiful people, art and culture. We landed at 6 a.m. and hopped in a cab to Platypus, one of the first hostels in the colonial center of town called La Calendaria. Much to our chagrin, they had no room at the inn. Ambitious, we thought that we could hang out in their communal space until some travelers checked out. We just needed to hold on for a few hours. We quickly realized that we could not endure the hard furniture and chilly air for four hours, no way. A serious lack of sleep and stiff bodies called for immediate attention. Luckily, the hostel right across the street had a room for us and they were gracious enough to let us check in a few hours earlier than normal. We crashed. It felt so good to lay our heads down.

After the much needed snooze, we went on our first 'wander about.' Among the most striking characteristics of La Calendaria is the brightly colored colonial architecture with clay tile rooftops and cobbled streets. This area is also know for its ubiquitous and thought provoking graffiti. Clever artists communicate their contempt for the seemingly unending struggles people face by making ordinary objects and symbols into powerful statements. A pineapple, when you look closely, is actually a grenade and people are depicted throwing coconut bombs. Most of the graffiti is an amazing display of artistic talent while some of the graffiti is down right blatant and angry. Understandably so. On a church located near the presidential palace in the town center, a tagger wrote "el estato y la religion la misma mierda son." The corruption runs deep and the people are frustrated and tired.

We were privy to an apartment in the North, which is where the wealthy people live. Even though I know this to be true, it is still disturbing to see the stratification between the rich and the poor. On the way to North Bogota from La Candelaria, we saw where the poor live - in the slums. The shanty houses are stacked on top of each other on the side of a steep hill making up what they call the barrios. The place that, we were told by locals, there is no reason to visit. The people from these areas come on horse drawn trailers to pick stuff from the garbage. They find items like cardboard and plastic to recycle for money.

In spite of the struggles and the stratification, Bogotanos have been nothing but kind and hospitable to us. We feel safe and welcome in this big city.

We´re leaving here for Medellin, the city of eternal spring, in two days but look forward to a few more days in Bogota on Scotty's way out.