Medellin, Columbia

Voix magazine posted this article @ http://voixmag.com/medellin-colombia/

Medellin

Medellin was murder capital of the world in 1991, but the paisa's (the fiercely proud cities inhabitants) swear they can't remember that. To be a paisa is to be proud, to be able to talk the talk. Meeting a paisa father and paisa son in the north was enough to convince me to take a detour.

Medellin gets out the best china for its guests. Chauffeured straight into el poblado, one of the cities wealthiest districts on the immaculate metro. The snooty tea shops invite you to indulge in the cafe culture. On first impressions you'd be forgiven for thinking things feel like manhattan. But not European; Medellin will be anything for you but it is not colonial: this is a city of the future.

I can't help being reminded of some kind of sims computer game effort when I contemplate the forming of this city. The identical mud orange brick rasco cielos (literally skyscrapers in English) give the impression that everything happened so fast and so uniformly.

And it did happen fast, since the thousand day war at the turn of the century, the constant fighting between the left and the right has made it pretty hard to be a campeosino. La Violencia of the 50s following the assignation of the really very popular candidate Gaitan in 1948 was particularly difficult. Population grew rapidly as refugees flocked in from the countryside. At the same time, colonial architecture huddled out of fashion. Medellin launched it's medellin masterplan and the city of the future piled high.

Seemingly perfectly placed remain the churches because the only part of paisa culture that seems to have been preserved from times past is Catholicism. Paisa Catholicism is of the 'sin and repent' format. The largest (brick) church in the world serves as a symbol for the sentiments of the city in more ways than one. The proud declarations that medellin hold the largest church in the world are fantastically paisa and so are the the muffled shuttered afterthoughts of 'largest one of built of brick'. 

At the front the devout catholic paisa's leave their church and at the back thrives the hub of the homosexual sex trade in the city. As we approach the church through the surrounding barrios we are reminded that Medellin is safe now, open for business and the paisa's are happy to see us. 'Welcome to Medellin' greet the infamous residents of this particular square. 

Sergio Fajardo was major between 2003 and 2007. A brilliant mathematician and mayor he championed social architecture. He put beautiful artwork in the seediest places. He made libraries beautiful. This juxtaposition lifted these areas up. Tourists flock to see the fat statues made by Medellin's Botero in the places where previously you would never go.

Make a trip to Medellin: they want to see you. Go because it is a safe sophiscated metropolis. Go because sometimes it is still dark and vibrant and dangerous.

Why Travel?

'Not all those who travel are lost' J.R.R Tolkein

I had decided to cross the Atlantic Ocean and dawdle around the north, central and South Americas for a couple of months. I was electrified with excitement; but  also frequently stopped in my tracts paralysed with fear and anticipation. 'Do something each day that scares you,' said Eleanor Roosevelt in the land of the free. This terrified me.

But the day dawned and I zoomed, cramped in economy, high over the Atlantic Ocean. I managed to persuade the man next to me not to kill me for spilling every hot and cold complementary foodstuff that I laid my hands on. I made it through customs despite calling the custom officer an arsehole. I wrestled with jet lag. I even made it to the second leg of my journey, to the southern states, despite one very early passport scare and an easily avoidable trip to the British embassy. But why was I doing this? Was it for pleasure? My stomach-stretching first real American diner experience sure was pleasurable. Was it for new experiences? Everything I saw in New York City felt like a déjà vu due to the innumerable popular culture references. Was it for something deeper and intangible. I thought so and I was not alone.

Many children of the 80s and 90s come in their hoards either this way or the slightly more popular that way (the trail that snakes across south East Asia). I am sure that children of the 00s will arrive in even bigger crowds. They scrape together tiny budgets bartending or waiting tables which they stretch out over weeks in crowded hostel dorm rooms and blow in days on beer. The come in their flannel trousers and crazy coloured, braided hair; outfits that hark back to times when the hippie trail first etched its foot prints across Athens, Istanbul, Iran and the Indian sub-continent. But why did they and why do we come? Or go?

The founders of free love congregated in Goa on acid trips citing 'finding themselves' as the reason for their trip. Today's travellers are a different set: highly logical science graduates, soceity's future lawyers and bankers - (privilege being a great enabler with regards to long distance travel). Ask travellers today, however, the reason for their trip and you will be answered with a similar stance. But why do people really travel? Because they can? Pure escapism? Why has aimless wondering become a right of passage and does it really teach you all of the things you thought it would?

Early on in the trip, I looked to science to answer my questions and came across an interesting theory by psychologist Lile Jia. The Indiana psychologist conducted research with students of the same university. He asked for them to name transportation options. He said that the answers were needed by Indiana students to the control group. To the research group he said the results were needed by students in Athens. The research group thought far more creatively: they conjoured up images of segways and roller skates and tuck tucks and tractors. Jia theorised that the reason for this was that the students who were conducting the study at a distance were able to put distance between themselves and the problem. Thinking about problems from afar allows the viewer to see with a whole deal of perspective. 

At that point I was approximately 5200 miles from home and the problems that lived there already looked incredibly small on the horizon. We worry about escaping our problems by putting distance in miles and kilometers between us and them; and perhaps the escapism sentiment is a big motivator for travel. But if we are willing to ponder from afar from time to time, it's highly probable we may see some great new solutions.

At some point we sharpened our problem solving skills. Locating a passport carelessly discarded at the cliffside of the Grand Canyon required creativity. Navigating Peru as illegals mid Amazon basin having mindlessly slipped through security required resourcefulness. Can I take these new skills forward? A study by the Kellogg business school in Chicago found that, among it's participants, those who had travelled outside of America were statistically more likely to be able to solve problem solving exercises. My stupidity aside, working your way around new transport systems, legal systems, cultures systems and medical systems takes a little bit of thinking out of your borders.

Over the course of trip I became more decisive: I have always been fickle and found it hard to commit. On becoming a grown up I not only didn't know what I wanted to do or how to make a decision, I also beat myself up about it. I felt confused trying to chose what to have for dinner and then angry and hungry because it had taken so long. I forgot I was young with the luxury of time and with every ticking in my head I felt opportunities were passing me by. 

Taking the decision to stall everything further scared me but it taught me that sometimes you have to give yourself time to work things out. A stitch in time saves nine; the tortoise beats the hare. I found that decisions away sometimes had the same effect on me. Whilst having the world at your feet and every decision your own is beautiful. Some days it can feel a bit scary. It opens your mind to infinite possibilties but without a bit of gumption you will be lost forever. You can not chose every road and travelling puts you completely in charge of which one. 

Once the pressure was of however I felt I was actually much more efficient. I can honestly say that after my trip I feel a lot more comfortable going with head and my heart. Days can be wasted in indecisiveness and you learn to appreciate both these reflective periods and the purpose that comes from making plans and decisions.

I rediscovered my love of learning and reading and I missed the people at home. I had spent the last few years short on time and these things that I loved had become a chore. Not having to learn had me magnetically drawn to museums and sitting in coffee shops going through Spanish grammar. Not having to be up Early had me awake at 5am bright eyed and bushy tailed. Not being able to communicate lead to hours in search of a postbox. Distance does make the heart grow stronger and on my return I find it easier to get up, study much much harder and am a lot nicer to my mum.

In conclusion, why travel? It make you statistically smarter, helps you see problems as smaller and makes you better at making decisions regarding them. It also makes you fall back in love with home.