Fear in Colombia

I´m frisked in a not so gentle but inoffensive way as I walk into the stadium to watch the clásico between Atletico Nacional (green team, my team) and Medellín. Both teams are from Medellín and I just happen to be in town to watch one of the biggest matches of the year! I´m now surrounded by over 30,000 overly excited humans. Insults are being yelled to the opposing fans 400 meters away and not heard, cherry bombs are going off, the craziest fans in the barb wire enclosed section are taunting police in riot gear by easily climbing over the spiny fence, make shift newspaper confetti is everywhere, I´m getting hit with water, I smell some mota, everyone is on their feet and as Nacional comes out we are yelling ¨VAAAAAAAMOOOOOS, VAMOS MI VERRRRRRRRDEEEEEE, ESTA TARRRRRRRRDEEEEEEEE, TENEMOS QUE GANARRRRRRRRR¨. (video below)

I felt great, but was not without that always existent element of vulnerability. This was chaos, but it was controlled somehow. Trying not to think about the potential for the very fine line to be crossed from controled chaos into riot, I easily had the best spectator experience of my life (and left 5 minutes before the game ended.)

Medellín, Colombia...wow.

Thanks to my good friend Juan Lopez, I was connected to a local paisa from the city, and spent two days touring what must be one of the most beautiful and exciting places to live in the world. It is a valley city of 2.5 million people surrounded be very high green hills with a very modern public transportation system, excellent libraries, a fledgling enviro/vegetarian movement and the best climate I´ve experienced yet. Stella, the paisa, had no idea where to start, so she took me everywhere it seemed. While in a public transportation metrocable (swiss alps style cable car) being carried up and down the hills, hanging out with friends during la rumba (party, dance, etc.), walking many of the peatonales (big street only for pedestrians) and checking out some of the many parques, we had some really great conversations, the first of which was on fear. She thought I was very trusting to even meet with her, because she could be anyone, and rob me or even worse. Given my friend Juan´s sterling reputation, it didn´t even cross my mind. So, this convo turned into a discussion on fear, and because before I left the most common concern people mentioned was my traveling through Colombia, I think it´s a good subject broach now.


(you can see the metrocable cars on the left)

I recieved Stella´s e-mail telling me not to stay in the city center after I had already paid for what I thought was a great hotel, right in the city center across from a beautiful park (parque Bolivar). Well, the hotel was great, but after 11pm parque Bolivar was definitely a danger zone, and I witnessed a lot from my window. On Saturday night police set up a make shift prison in the middle of the park and at one point as a police officer yelled and ran to the other side of the park to stop a 1 v 1 street fight, about 10 people took advantage and escaped the make shift prison, with cops wearing fluorescent yellow vests giving chase. Then at 3am I´m woken up by a glass bottle breaking and someone yelling ¨me estan robando!¨ (they are robbing me). I look out the window right a cop enters the scene and people flee.

So yes, there is danger in Medellín, Colombia. But there is danger in Chicago too, and all big cities I imagine. I just happened to be staying at a very secure hotel in one of those ¨do not go here at night¨ places. And I´m glad I did. Stella thought I was too ´confiado.´ I thought it was a calculated risk. I was careful, everything was okay and I had a very interesting experience. But maybe I was lucky.

Fear. Stella was reluctant and skeptical about meeting up with me because of fear. For whatever reason, due to her genetic make up and/or the society that raised her, she was still thinking of dangers I was not. I´m not from Medellín and I didn´t grow up watching the news here. Who know´s what she has been exposed to. In El Salvador the news told me that gang member extorionists throw grenades on public buses. In Mexico the news told me that kidnappings happen in Mexico City. In Chicago the news told me that someone was shot to death in a bar that was a 7 minute walk from my apartment. All of these stories are tragic, and induce fear. But, how well do these stories represent reality, or, the experiences that most of us live in these places? And, how trustworthy are the sources that inform our fear? (Ask yourself: make shift prison in a park, really?) In other words, how rational is our fear?

Thinking about it, I´m really talking about a specific type of fear, a fear of people and place. This is a big reason for my trip, to discover different realities of people and place first hand. Fear can definitely get in the way of this objective.

Ultimately, if you want to be safe there are places you go, and places you don´t go. The trick is finding reliable information. However, most everyone would have told me not to go to the soccer game. It was a calculated risk. I minimized my danger by going with a local, wearing neutral colors, watching in the less crazy section and leaving early. I´d like to think of this as a compromise, because really I wanted to be in the crazy section and stay after the game to watch what ensued. Just another one of those dilemnas, a balancing act of interests. Everyone has their comfort level, and those with the most relaxed level risk the most, but likely experience the most as well.

Desde Popoyán,
Matt