Supplier of over…’and enter long drug and kidnapping spiel’… No sorry, I can’t continue with this. Let’s face it; Colombia has got a lot of bad press in its day, well even to this day. Anything I’ve managed to read about Colombia (albeit not a mammoth amount) that is written through a ‘gringos’ perspective usually seems to end up painting a negative picture. I mean they do report on the beauty of Colombia, but usually the problems of the nation always seem to cloud any positive words which have been said in article. I’m not saying that these problems don’t exist, but having been so wildly reported I thought it’d be interesting to represent my view from what I saw from spending a little time in Colombia.

I’m not proclaiming I’m an expert on Colombia, knowing the intricate details of their history, or regurgitating any real specifics relating to their politics. What I’m more reporting on is just the people I met and the lifestyle that they lead over there. When I went over, I went with friends who grew up over in Colombia, but immigrated over in the mid 90s. So we where staying with childhood friends and family, and not in a Holiday Inn or in some Lonely Planet approved hostel. This is the best way to see any country, which is obviously easier said than done; assuming you have family/friends from the said countries you’re interested in visiting, plus people who are willing or even able to put you up. The main reason though is you can really get involved in a families life, learn some of their customs and generally be shown a selection of interesting places which might be off the ‘beaten track’. There may be times though where what you want to go and they have in mind may differ, but it’s always good to try new things (or you can just try and slip out of the window assuming it’s not on the 4th floor).

What was I thinking?

My initial idea of Colombia was simply Escobar World Cup 1994 scoring the own goal then getting gunned down soon after in spurious circumstances, and also a Colombian mate from school who was overly hyperactive. Well that and the coke, guerrillas and kidnappings, it was an overly superficial opinion I had. The build up to going away was always responded with “hope you don’t get kidnapped” or “don’t snort too much charlie” when I told them where I was going. I just done a fake laugh and didn’t really think about where I was going until the couple of days before departure, that’s when the nerves kicked in. With the constant barrage of rinsed ‘joking’ comments, I received in the build up to departure, it did eventually culminate into a “what if they are true?” It seems pathetic and almost offensive now, but for someone who just didn’t know what to really expect it was just a natural reaction.

Getting off the plane into Bogotá’s El Dorado airport was bizarre. I truly didn’t know what to expect and was frankly just uneducated about the country I was going to visit. With not much research at all into the country or no ability to speak the language I truly felt out of sorts and a proper gringo. The golden (and most blatant) rule of going to any country for a prolonged amount of time is to learn the language, to at least a basic conversational level. I guess living in England my whole life the typical arrogant and lazy attitude of ‘English is one of the most widely spoken languages in the world, I’m sure they will speak it wherever I go’ had rubbed off on me. Also coupled with the poor level of education of languages in the UK (particularly state schools) had put me off learning languages until now. I felt so helpless as the ability of communication is something which you take for granted. I like to talk, and discuss things and most importantly I like to have a laugh. But going through my friend (who was appointed my U.N. translator) was quiet debilitating… but who’s fault was that?

Bogotá is a developing third world city, so has some amazing architecture and a well built up CBD coupled with the problems of the third world. On one side you have your tall city building where business/trade is commencing and on the other side of the road you have dilapidated ‘housing’ with family and kids begging to eat. ‘The city of contrast’ as a friend described his own city, and justly said. Though every city in the world has similar problems and of course in varying degrees, it’s just more apparent here. The 40-minute drive from the airport to the Centre of Bogotá where we would be staying for the majority of our stay in Colombia was reassuring. It suppressed all the wild thoughts that I was having in my head the previous 48 hours before. It reminded me immensely of the Philippines where my mother was from. Both having similar economic situations, both colonies of the Spanish to even the similarity in food. It did felt a bit strange but also comforting and reinvigorating at the same time, as I haven’t been back to the Philippines since 1993.

Aquardiente

I instantly found the people in Colombia to being very generous and loving. The family we stayed with treated me like I was a long lost relative and the amount of hospitality and warmth we received was out of this world. Despite initial preconceptions the some of the family held of ‘was he a western devil’ or not?’ These barriers where broken with the international response of booze! Aguadiente aka Fire Water, an aniseed based drink mixed with a tipple of squeezed lime was our barrier breaker. It was almost a ritual of making sure the Aguadiente was at the right cool temperature and with people taking turns to squeeze the lime it was set to be an interesting night. Usually with a bottle or two we would sit round the table and just pour a shot and say “Salud.” It would conclude the sentiments of the conversation, usually starting off for “A la Demencia” (for madness) to then something deep and meaningful as the passing of a relative, to some filthy mouth talking. It was hard at times getting involved in big talks as my mate found it hard to listen to five different voices at once then translate without loosing track of the conversation. I just had to sit there and watch peoples expressions and second guess what they where saying. I felt at a lose end not being able to contribute to something which interested me (based on summaries my friend could give me at random intervals). But occasionally I could get a point in here or there and the bottle of fire water kept me company.

Despite all this it was these personal moments which truly brought everyone together and made them feel at ease with each other, despite the language difficulty. The obvious initial barrier was “Is he a Bush/Blair lapdog” type. I mean they don’t dislike the ‘gringos’ in a “Get out of my house way!” but obvious media preconceptions could paint the picture that your average westerner would think like the government which ‘represents’ them. But just talking to them about family, thoughts on certain things in life, social politics and realising we had a similar (filthy) sense of humour. Well it did dispel these preconceptions that was held by both parties.

What was refreshing and inspirational to me is the fact the family we stayed with had so much national pride. It didn’t blinker their vision though and made them such a hardcore nationalist. But the fact that what they did with their life involved bettering the place that they lived, from being a human rights lawyer to studying restoration of the national art was refreshing to see. Plus it didn’t take winning the Cricket to provoke such a reaction. Another thing I particularly noted is that people generally didn’t have a television in their living rooms. They usually keep them in their bedrooms, as the living room was reserved for talking, having your dinner and playing music. Salsa is a large part of the culture, and after a few drinks it’s natural to have a dance in the living room. The fact people are more touchy feely with each other makes everyone at ease with each other, and as a product of that aren’t afraid to dance with each other without the set up of being off your face in a £1 a pint/shot place with Duran Duran – Rio blasting out of the speakers.

The ‘tourist’ thing?

The city of Bogotá is absolutely out of this world though with so many quirks, which just made me fall in love with the place. The backdrop of the Andés mountains is superb despite housing many people who have been displaced due to violence and other governmental based ‘reasoning’. It is apparent the poorer you are, the higher up you live in the mountains, and parts of the Bolivar region as it’s known are ‘no go’ zones, particular for the police. But we met an amazing artist called Harold Bustos from the region who has so much vision and passion for the area he lives in, and shows that in his paintings and sculptures. He took us around the Boliviar area telling us the history of place and the struggles he has to face, but also showed us the positive side to the area that may have constantly been shown in a negative light. We did also do the touristy things whilst we where there, seeing El Museo del Oro (Museum of Gold), Underground Salt Cathedral of Zipaquira and the excellent Botero paintings and sculptures in the Museum of Modern Art. We also managed to go out and sample a few clubs, from a small Techno night to your obligatory traditional Salsa place (no Reggaeton thank God) to the variety of small bars and restaurants in the area. We managed to go the Zona Rosa region which is the more built up part of Bogotá. It was just your typical CBD type region with your Nintendo stores, MacDonalds and ‘The Pub’ type venues. I wasn’t a particular fan of the area as it was just a plain tourist trap and just felt like Leicester Square. I definitely felt more at home in the central region.

Away from Bogotá we managed to go to Pereira, Armenia and Cartago to visit more family members of my travelling companions. This was in the valley of where the Andes forked and was much hotter than the stable 20 degree climate that Bogotá had. The bustling capital city vibe was left behind and it was more relaxed. Hanging out in the various cities each having their own appeal. Again the universal charm of people treating you like family, lending you their spare beds, or even their own bed was standard practice. The amount of thanks and guilt you felt that someone would be sharing a bed just to give up their own bed to accommodate a total stranger, was amazing. You would try and decline the offer, but that would only risk offending someone. It was that initial gesture, even before the ‘Holas’ commenced that made you so welcome.

“The warmer climate the warmer the people’s hearts” commented another friend. In ways I could see that, people where instantly even more touchy feeling, but that’s what the heat does to you, and I think it refers to initial meetings as opposed to general feelings. Particular highlights were catching and eating your own fish, and just having a massive send off party when we left Cartago to go back to Bogotá. A large majority of my friend’s family members where in attendance and so with the culmination of food, drink, music and football it was a fantastic occasion. It did remind me exactly of the parties my auntie would host in London. This instantly made me miss the Philippines and my family even more so.

Final thoughts

At the end of it all I lost all my preconceptions about Colombia. With the barrage of media coverage only bringing you X,Y,Z news story, you just eventually end up getting bogged down in bullshit, without realising that there is a whole different culture living there to experience. One thing, despite all the differences we may have in the way we live and what not, we are all trying for the same things. We all generally just want to have a stable future for us and eventually our family and just want to get on and enjoy life. The ways we get to that position vary of course, but fundamentally we do want the same things, aside of aspirations in between will vary due to whatever your reality will be. From struggling to find something to eat for the day, to “I really like that Nicole Farhi iPod cover case, but it doesn’t match my bag” to “Screw dinner, let’s get a bottle of Aguardiente in.”