I try to imagine how it would feel. If every vacationer I encountered in United States asked me about September 11, police brutality and heroine – I’m sure I’d lose it.
Unfortunately, the fairytale landscape, surplus of beautiful cafes, and rainforest relaxation vibe aren’t the first things people think of when they think of Medellin, Colombia and it’s truly a shame.
The list of present-day accomplishments for this vibrant city are endless. You’d have to list the inexpensive, high-quality produce, intriguing architecture and incredibly kind inhabitants. You’d mention the accessibility to the countryside, impeccable parks and an incredibly efficient and clean metro system. Tree-lined streets usher you to picturesque eateries, none of which lack a bounty of fresh juices made from the dozen of Colombian-exclusive fruits. Pablo Escobar’s name is not spoken, as appropriate for any drug lord that terrorized a state for more than a decade. He is not celebrated, he is not cool, and every war-themed tour or idealization of the greatest drug war in history is a blow to every Colombian and every world citizen that believes in validating the human experience.
Every friend and every family member has made comments about me traveling to Colombia, as if I’d be inducted into some secret world of police murder and cocaine trafficking. The stereotypes are strong but nothing screams love and peace like this group of arepa-loving, God-fearing sweethearts who love their families immensely and never get frustrated when I speak to them in Spanglish.
A poverty-raveged district have given themselves a new name by marketing their community as the city’s street art capital while another historically oppressed area has made a home from the remains of a enormous and contaminated landfill, their safest option during the height of the war. There is no way to tell all the stories of resilience and inventiveness, but certainly we all can at least behave like they exist. We can empathize with the pain of the Colombian people and not engage in the fantasization of a national tragedy, one thats effects still ring loudly.
Every murder of Colombian police officers is just as disgusting as the execution of the officers during the Dallas protests. Every guerrilla recruitment of young boys – elementary age – is just as heinous as the daily recruitment of children in the U.S. into the drug and sex trafficking trades. Use your own at-home experiences to better connect you with people around the world. That could be through great tribulation or an enormous success –whatever it is, do what you need to do to not be a complete dick. Compassion is the start.
Gone Girl Travels 