Wednesday, April 12, 2023

Postcard from Medellín - postmarked 31 January 2023

We joke in Canada – and probably in all Western countries – about corrupt politicians or about the corrupt system. In Montreal, we had our own “Mr. 3%” who was exposed, after over a decade of operating, of taking 3% off the top of all city contracts. He was always paid in cash, apparently as in the movies, delivered to him in paper bags. The mayor of Laval, our province’s second largest city, was thrown in jail for stealing from the public purse. And, we’ve joked about the mafia running Italy (and maybe still does). In Colombia, it is well known that today the paramilitary collects protection money from every store and business in the country. These payments ensure that no shop, no store and no business will be robbed. In Canada, we can pay for insurance against theft. In Colombia, protection must be paid, and so insurance is unnecessary.

 




One of the most notorious cities in all of Colombia is Medellín, comprised of some 25 neighbourhoods, or comunas. They are each numbered, from 1 to 25, but some are better know by their names: Poblado, apparently where most tourists stay, is one of the most well-off neighbourhoods in Medellín. And there’s Envigado, where Pablo Escobar is famously from. If you’ve forgotten, he was the first big narco-trafficer in Colombia, maybe in all of South America. He managed to get elected to the Colombian congress, which position no doubt helped him to manage his growing, illicit empire. He was gunned down in 1995, but his name lives on. I believe there is, at the moment, a popular Netflix movie about his life, even all these years later. Medellín has expanded over the past decades in size and now comprises 5 million citizens, spread around the 25 neighbourhoods. The city is strikingly beautiful as it is built across many mountains. I have never visited anywhere else on Earth a city that is so mountainous. Can you imagine your own city, instead of being flat or hilly, actually mountainous? 



The Medellín public transit system has an extensive subway and bus network. In six different locations the network connects to a cable car which will take the rider a kilometer or more up one of the mountainside communities, stopping once or twice along the way to allow passengers to disembark or climb on. Your transit ticket includes all the subway lines, bus lines and cable cars, too. A ten-minute ride up to the top of one of the cable car lines will save the rider at least a half-hour on an equivalent bus ride. And there is never traffic, although there may be a few minutes to queue up for the next available cable car.

 


Comuna 13 is the most famous of all the comunas. I know this because it is the only neighbourhood that boasts its own walking tours and graffiti tours. In fact, there are many different walking tour companies which collectively offer about 10 to 15 walking tours every day in Comuna 13. It is the No. 1 rated attraction of things to do on Trip Advisor in Medellín. Why is it so famous? Up until 2010, three gangs controlled all of Medellín, each in its own territory. The borders that defined the territories of the gangs were well know and respected. Comuna 13 was the only comuna where all three gang territories intersected. It was especially poor and most dangerous. Because it is built or situated on a mountainside, it was next to impossible for the police or the military to control. There was only one street which ran up to the summit and back down the other side. Otherwise there were just hundreds and hundreds of shacks, randomly arrayed, with narrow pedestrian laneways between them.



 The miracle of Comuna 13 started the year that the city decided to build a series of outdoor escalators, six of them in a series, leading from nearly the bottom of the neighbourhood to the top, more than 500 metres of escalators. They are each covered with an awning to provide shade from the sun and every awning is, in turn, covered with solar panels which produce the electricity needed to power the escalators. Over the next ten years, a miracle happened, or I should say, evolved: with the new easy access for getting up and down, and with the gangs getting replaced by the paramilitary due to a series of battles for control, the residents started to open, poco a poco, cafés, stores, bars, a tattoo shop, a beauty parlour, restaurants, and more. All of them dotting the sole narrow winding road leading to the summit, more or less parallel to the escalators. Now, in 2023, there are so many tourists visiting every day, all year long, that the winding road that was once about the most dangerous road in all of Colombia, is now thick with pedestrians of all ages, from all countries, slowly walking up or down, or taking the escalators, spending money liberally in the shops. Most of the length of this path is on a cliff overlooking the valley below and over to the mountains on the other side. Stopping for a bite or a drink anywhere along the way offers you stunning views that are unequalled anywhere else in Medellín, or nearly so.

 


I read this morning that ChatGPT is now writing short stories and postcards, too! I am wondering if I am out of a job! Here is what ChatGPT has to say about Communa 13, let me know if I should retire from writing:

 

Comuna 13 is a neighborhood in the city of Medellín that was once known for high levels of poverty, crime, and violence. Over the past 15 years, however, the community has undergone significant transformation and renewal through innovative social and urban initiatives. Starting in the early 2000s, the government of Medellín began implementing a number of programs aimed at reducing poverty and violence in Comuna 13, including improvements to public transportation, the construction of new housing developments, and the creation of cultural and recreational centers. At the same time, the community has been actively involved in shaping its own future through initiatives like community-led graffiti tours and youth-led cultural events. These efforts have paid off, as Comuna 13 has become a symbol of urban renewal and innovation, attracting tourists and visitors from around the world who come to see the transformation for themselves. Despite continued challenges, the community remains a vibrant and hopeful place, with residents and local organizations working together to build a better future for themselves and their families.

 


One of the most awesome experiences of my life was realized in the countryside near Medellín. A few years ago, I wrote about “flying” the highest zipline in the world, in Italy: 1,500 feet above the valley below, 1.5 km long. I had reached a top velocity of 102 km/hr, according to my Strava app recording the speedy 60-second long ride. There was a very similar zipline available to daring individuals in Colombia, but with a twist – instead of zipping across from one mountain peak to another (which was also an option), I was slowly reeled out along the same zipline to about the halfway point between the two peaks, where my guide (who was close by) unpacked a hammock which was then strung up on the zip line. I climbed on it, the guide left and I was basically left lying about, hanging by a thread, 1,000 feet above the lush, valley floor. As there was no breeze, it was utterly silent, and extremely spooky, I admit. As I see it, one has two options in this situation. One, take in the beauty, the two waterfalls in sight, the spectacular views of the verdant mountainsides and the confluence of the two rivers rushing below. Or two, start wondering about all the things that can possibly go wrong, the hammock rips apart (unlikely), the zip line snaps (possible), the carabiners connecting you to the zip line fail and break (hhmm…). Once your worries begin, look out below, they just snowball, worries graduate into fears, fear turns to anxiety, and ultimately to panic. I know this because my friend that I was about to share this novel adventure with didn’t last 10 seconds and she was quickly escorted back to the starting point. I, on the other hand, was in awe by the fact that I was on a hammock where I never that it possible! And awesome beats panic every time!

 


During my comings and goings, I managed to meet a large number of ex-pats, mostly Canadians and Americans who have moved to Colombia to enjoy the good life: In the part of the country that surrounds Medellín, for instance, it is springtime all year long, never hot and never cold. The countryside is spectacular, lots of mountains for hiking, many rivers and lakes for swimming and boating, and a number of adventure activities available, like ziplining and rock climbing for the brave. They start businesses in, or relocate their existing businesses to, an environment that celebrates raw nature and beauty. If you can work remotely, why move to the suburbs when you can move to another country, where the cost of living is roughly one-third of that at home? In addition, I noticed that male ex-pats were frequently with much younger Colombian girlfriends. Seems like win-win relationships, from what I can infer. Colombia issues six-month visas with no questions asked. When your visa is close to expiring, a short day trip to Panama, to leave the country and then return, gets you another six-month visa. Wash, rinse, and repeat. On a similar note, I ran into a number of retirees who have sold their houses, cars and possessions back home and have moved to Colombia to enjoy their remaining years in relative luxury, compared to the limited buying power that their savings afforded them at home. I suppose that every second- and third-world country attracts a large number of first-world retirees. It has me thinking and wondering…

Barry