Colombia - The beginning of an end

18th September 2008
Concerned but curious looks were often expressed as I mentioned that I had been to Colombia. One tend to associate Colombia with drugs, guerillas, kidnapping and homicides. I had my doubts as well, as I recall a Colombian friend of mine back home recollecting his childhood filled with daily bombings. I have yet figured out whether it was bravery or naiveté that sent me there, but I managed to survive with few scratches. I had the courtesy of informing my parents of my sailing trip there only after I have docked (and only informed them of being robbed when I got back to California).
As we approached Cuperghana at dusk after a week’s sailing from Panama, we were anxious to get onto land. The surrounding glowing jelly fish deterred us from swimming ashore. We were all too glad to feel the solid ground under our feet again. After immigration officer said to us, “behave, boys”, we were off to settle into our own little apartment. As we strolled into town for dinner, we noticed that we have acquired our own army of bodyguards, courtesy of the Colombian government.
We left this small fishing village early the next day. We arrived at the town of Turbo like a boatful of fresh meat to starving crocodiles. A dozen of men waited hungrily for us to get off the ferry. Turbo is aptly named as they spoke to rapidly that none of us could make anything out. We managed to find our way out of the meat market to the bus terminal without much injury.
Scott and I decided that we need to get back to civilisation, so we boarded a bus to Medellín, the second largest city in Colombia, and once “Murder Capital of the World”, a calming piece of knowledge as we circled around this city in the rain at 3 in the morning. But we wandered the streets the next day without feeling especially unsafe. We were, however, more paranoid than ever having being robbed in Panama over a week ago. Plaza Botero displays a number of exaggerated stumpy statues by Colombian painter/sculptor Fernando Botero. Not unlike other city centres, it is filled with noise form buskers and street performers.
If I were to choose a city most representative of Colombia, it would be Medellin. As we commute from the laneways of trendy boutiques and fancy restaurants in Zona Rosa, to the slums of Santo Domingo, we were confronted with the harsh reality of poverty and displacement.

We continued our journey on an overnight bus to Cartagena de Indias, a coastal colonial walled city and designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The fifth largest urban area in Colombia, Cartagena is also the centre of economic activity in the Caribbean region. New skyscrapers are constantly being constructed. Inside the walls, an area known as Old Town, is characterized by mainly colonial style buildings, but republican and Italian style buildings can be seen as well. While cocaine trading has been outlawed (possession is still legal however), we were still openly asked whether we would like to purchase some, to which we turned down.

We spent a couple of days wandering the streets of Old Town, and sampled Colombian street foods at an amusement park nearby. We then spent another couple of days in Taganga, a small fishing village and backpacker hideaway 4 hours from Cartagena by bus. Taganga wasn’t especially beautiful, but it had a laid back vibe and provided a relaxing end to my Latin America voyage.

Tranquility vanished as I spent over an hour detained at Cartagena airport as the puzzled immigration officers examined every page of my British passport. My Spanish vocabulary was not enough to even understand what they were looking for, let alone trying to explain myself; thus I could only sit and hope for the best. After what seemed like weeks of ‘interrogation’, I was allowed to broad my flight, which was scheduled to leave an hour ago. Luckily, I was in Latin America where nothing is ever on time.
Arriving in Panama City airport, I then walked across the highway to get to the bus stop into the city. I had 12 hours to kill before boarding a 16-hour journey to San Jose, Costa Rica. It is one of the rare moments I feel grateful to be in an Americanized city with a shopping mall and a cinema showing English movies. That’s where I spent my afternoon, window shopping and had a movie marathon.

Update March 2010:
Unquestionably, President Alvaro Uribe has put a lot of the problems under control during his tenure. Reported kidnappings has decrease considerably (from 3,7000 in the year 2000 to 172 in 2009), as is homicides (from 28,837 in 2002 to 13,346 in 2009). But the deep-rooted problems are not to be completely fixed in a short period. There are disgruntles as people are being displaced from farms and lands towards the big cities, as part of Uribe’s ‘democratic security’ strategy.  Cities and towns are seemingly safe, with murders and kidnappings down, while in the rural areas, it is reported that the situation is worsening. 24.3 million internally displaced people in Colombia according to United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees.
Colombia is not exempted from the global financial crisis, which has made people even more agitated than they already are. According to UN figures, in 2003 the richest 20% of the population had a 62.7%share of income/consumption and the poorest 20% just 2.5%, and 17.8% of Colombians live on less than $2 a day. Open unemployment rate stands at 11.8%, compared with a Latin American average of 8.3%. Uribe’s policies were far from perfection, it is a good initiative in altering Colombia’s violent and corrupted state. While the constitutional court has rejected a referendum which could have led to Uribe running for a third term in office, citing that it would threaten democracy, it is not to be seen as Uribe’s failure. If anything, it should be seen as Colombia’s commitment to becoming a more democratic and developed country.