Medellin's history is complex and often painful. In the late 20th century the volatile cocktail of government corruption, civil war, and poverty gave way to the rise of some of the most violent and powerful drug cartels in the world.
"Life breaks free. Life expands to new territories. Painfully, perhaps even dangerously.
But life finds a way." -Dr. Malcolm, Jurassic Park
I didn't know anything about the scarred and beautiful past of Colombia in general and Medellin in particular until we arrived there in October of 2022 for a one week visit. I looked at the sprawling metropolis nestled in the central Andes mountains and realized my lack of research on this trip extended beyond my unusually lax travel planning to complete ignorance of the place I'd landed in. This is not like me. I love to do what I call "pre-vacationing" for at least a week before I go somewhere. I look up fun things to do and study the history of the area. In my mind already there so that the time my body gets there I'm ready to be in full vacation mode.
I did not do this with Medellin. We bought tickets, hopped on a flight, and made numerous blunders to get here. (see Mistakes We Made Traveling to South American to hear about that) When we arrived I was in amazed.
Mountains encircled a lush valley crawling with skyscrapers, concrete roadways, and ramshackle houses which bulged at the edges barely holding back the encroaching jungle. Wilderness, man-made and natural, burst forth from the earth in a flurry of chaos that was both intimidating and inviting.
I now think, unprepared and blundering is the best way to arrive in Medellin. Without preconceived ideas the city introduced herself to me on her terms and I was smitten.
I didn't meet Medellin as "one of the most dangerous cities in the world". I hadn't see Narcos so I didn't look at her as a product of drug cartels. She seemed to me a complex and evolving soul with beautiful scars that spoke of deep pain and miraculous healing. A mysterious woman with a contagious laugh and a nasty temper, alluring and intimidating.
Life here is for the living, full of noise and activity, bright colors and vibrant music.
When I got there and walked among the clamor and commotion I felt like this city was built over a deep well of fresh water that swims just below the concrete. Anywhere the concrete was thin or cracked that life water bubbled up. It bubbled up in the people who laughed heartily in each others company, it bubbled up in the children who ran and played in the parks, it bubble up into the very flowers which grew in gardens and pots, from tears in the blacktop and tiny spaces in the cobblestone.
Dr. Malcom was right about life. It finds a way. In the face of death, in the grip of despair, in the darkness of violence and disease, life will find a way. In her steep fringe Communas where barely solid homes and businesses pile one on top of another, climbing the hills in mounds of red and grey, children hop from stairs to concrete ledges like joyful mountain goats.
This city, Medellin, with her drama and her passion healed a wound in my soul. The pain of isolation and fear that blanketed the world during lockdown faded in the light of this well of joy springing up in such an unlikely place. The laughter, the dancing, the colors, it's contagious, renewing. I am forever grateful that I met Medellin and that she showed me her very best, her people.
Comments