El Ritmo – It’s all about rhythm in Colombia, as it is in Latin America. All five senses are bum rushed with stimuli, but the melody of Latinoamérica is an unremitting energy field that rattles the soul like a sonic boom. Symphonic waves ever modulated by the crackling of meat on the grill, street musicians, entertainers and vendors, the jerga callejera (“street slang”), and even the chatter of “Gringas” ("white chicks") sprinkles some auditory flux into the mix. Medellín’s vibe stands somewhere between Bogotá and Cartagena, more relaxed than the Rolos of Bogotá, less Dionysian than Cartagena. It is a temperate zone both in terms of climate and mentality, which is why so many Gringos and other extranjeros (foreigners) come here. So, what is this urban mountain jungle all about?
Medellín’s vibe stands somewhere between Bogotá and Cartagena, more relaxed than the Rolos of Bogotá, less Dionysian than Cartagena.
As soon as you land at the airport and catch an Uber to the city the Andes mountains envelop you rather like driving from Kansas due West until you see the Colorado Rockies for the first time. Medellín, “The City of Eternal Spring,” can be found in the Central Andes (Bogotá lies in the East Andes) and is vastly different in character, climate, and virtually everything else from the rest of Colombia. The Paisas (the name supposedly of Basque origin) – those who hail from the Paisa region, which includes four departments (more regions than states) Antioquia, Caldas, Risaralda and Quindío – are a fiercely distinct group, especially from the Rolos who are tongue and cheek rivals. Colombians from Medellín tend to refer to themselves as Antioqueños named for Antioquia and like many mountain cultures (Highland Scots, Pathans of Pakistan) are proud, provincial, and speak a different vernacular than the rest.
Medellín is sort of a jungle winter land. The main spots the mochileros (backpackers) and foreigners hit are El Poblado, Laureles, and Envigado (a separate city). El Pablado is by far the most touristy area. In neighborhoods like Manilla you will find the standard fit-for-purpose yoga studios, co-working spaces, trendy hotels, bars and nightclubs, and minimalistic brunch bistros that make the Yuppies swoon. Rains come down like a tsunami, especially during the rainy season so look for some indoor spots when it begins to thunder. I recommend Cafe Clemente and Delarte for incredible coffee and a relaxed atmosphere. If you’re a loud and proud hipster and brunch is your thing, I recommend Hijamia.
South Asia and Latinoamérica
Walking through the densely packed main avenues, the lush greenery of Las Palmeras (Palm Trees), Mango Trees and varied green corridors that serve as spectacular canopies above as you stroll through the city’s main arteries, I could not help but think of South Asia. It is not a perfect fit to be sure, but Medellín and Bangkok seemed much like sister cities, maybe second cousins. The street rhythm, the blend of concrete and jungle, the profuse food markets, the boisterous communal life, the maniacal traffic, the predatory prowling of prostitutes, and the edginess of human drama flow in sync with Bangkok. If they were DJs they would be spinning tracks for the same station, Latinoamérica is just a little faster with a higher base, and more dangerous.
Much like South Asia the anarchy of life is fused with the culture, both as a feature and a bug.
Much like South Asia the anarchy of life is fused with the culture, both as a feature and a bug. Saving for the future, risk analysis, and hedging against uncertainty are things one does not do in Medellín or Colombia. Why? Because chaos becomes you, so planning, prepping, and vision boarding dissolves like carcasses in desert quicksand or lost hikers in mountain jungle. Indeed, all sense of control is sacrificed to the God’s of mischief. A similar gravitational pull holds sway over the Laotians, Malays, Thais, Vietnamese, and Indonesians etc. There is both beauty and tragedy in such a revelation.
Like South Asia, instability is the norm so anything short of dictatorial governance or cartel cruelty tends to succumb to the pandemonium one way or another, as does the culture. True, Colombia has escaped the Stalinist grip of Cartel Kingpin Pablo Escobar whose former activities centered in Comuna-13, a former gang ridden neighborhood that has become a tourist attraction the Paisas have leaned into but not without post-traumatic ambivalence. You can tour the sites of Escobar’s macabre crimes if you want but I did not enjoy the experience, too much terror far too commercialized grates against the empathic and the God-fearing. Erecting memorials to Escobar’s victims would have been sufficient for me, but it has become a revenue stream local Colombians desperately need so there it is. Such is the tragic side of this country and Latinoamérica where pain becomes cultural muscle memory. (Pro tip: It is impolite to mention his name in casual conversation so do be respectful.)
Latinoamérica is a place where pain becomes cultural muscle memory.
La Lucha (“the struggle”) is a part of life in this part of the world. A Colombian friend explained to me that there is an expectation of positivity so expressing negativity, depression, or perturbation is simply not accepted, especially for females who live under the watchful eye of Machista (another congruity with “the land of a thousand smiles”). I asked several Uber drivers among other locals about Colombia’s economy, which inevitably provoked wry smiles. They reminded me that Colombia’s ROI comes from three sectors: cocaine, coffee, and prostitution, a reality everyone knows except perhaps the foreigners. Life is so difficult for average folks that the only way to overcome this darkness is to dance with it, to integrate it, like a Jungian Shadow.
Realismo Magico
Still, there is a real magic to be found in Medellín. Realismo Magico or “magical realism” is a literary form that has become distinctly Colombian through the works of Nobel Prize winning author Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Gabo’s (sometimes called “Gabito”) work, like that of many in Latin America is deeply emotional, tragic and entrenched in turbulent politics. In his most famous book Cien Años de Soledad ("One Hundred Years of Solitude") Gabo wrote about solitude, about the Macondo (“the village”), about the fated disempowerment many Latinos feel, subjected to a “reality through patterns not our own.” Unraveling what patterns compel and what forces impose upon them is key to demystifying Colombia and Latinoamérica.
Gabo belies an attitude across Latinoamérica of ever creeping anti-Americanism and rising suspicion of the West in general.
Gaboism, if you will, is a sentimentality surging across the region from what I can tell. Marquez began his career as a journalist during the Cold War when the CIA was mercilessly toppling regimes across Latin America on a perennial basis. For this reason, among others, Gabo belies an attitude of ever creeping anti-Americanism and rising suspicion of the West in general. Some of this friction has its roots in anti-colonialism, some of it emanates from the wellspring of the Ameridian or indigenous psyche that remains the dominant social influence in Latin America, and probably always will. I recommend attending Gabo in Manila to experience a taste (pun intended) of Gabito‘s impact.
The spirit of the ancient peoples is intertwined with Colombia and even the most desensitized can feel it. Intuitively, it is in the natural spots where you can best channel this energy. I recommend heading up the mountains to a restaurant and natural reserve called Ritwal where you can see a panoramic view of the city in all its energetic splendor; go at night (see above). Equally, the Botanical Gardens are mesmeric and the perfect spot for peripatetic meditation. You should also take a day trip to Guatapé, a beautiful artsy town outside of which you can climb Penol Rock (see mountain top view below). It is in these areas and the endless streams, parks, and greenways where the magical spirits of Medellín whisper to you.
Cycles of East and West, North and South
The pandemic was a turning point for Medellín and perhaps for much of Latin America. When lobotomized Western governments began shutting down economies and restricting people’s movements in 2020 it sparked a veritable exodus from Europe and America. When interminable lock downs walled off friends and family, victimized the non-compliant, and pitted neighbor against neighbor and citizen against government public trust broke for many, perhaps most. Many hit the road in search of saner lands and a restoration of freedom, so they fled the US and ended up in Medellín, and other trendy spots across Latin America where restrictions were mild or non-existent. This brought waves of digital nomads, entrepreneurs, retirees, travel junkies and backpackers from West to East and North to South.
The pandemic was a turning point for Medellín.
The post-pandemic migration meant both opportunity and downside for the locals. As is the case across the world and a trend well documented in my essays, Geoarbitrage is a trade like any other with winners and losers, for the Antioqueños it has been a mixed bag. The tourist industry has thrived, outside investment has infused revenue into local economies driven by wealthy expats who are increasingly living in Medellín full-time and some of whom are investing in local real estate. At the same time, nomad capitalism has caused inflation, gentrification and a clash of cultures suffered most acutely by older, poorer locals. Some streets of El Poblado are an open linguistic battlefield between English and Spanish.
The turf war is real. While I was in Medellín there was a protest sparked by foreign mistreatment of some of the working girls, including some reprehensible activity involving minors. Locals are also agitated about the volume of expats displacing Colombians in traditional neighborhoods and the penetration of English-Speaking culture. The discord is imperceptible to the average Gringo but it’s there, simmering beneath the surface and at times bursting forth. If you recall, similar tension permeates Lisbon and other favored spots for nomad capital, as it does in Mexico City where I am currently living.
As much as the world changes, it stays the same. Some, especially the expat influencers, entrepreneurs, investors and perhaps members of Medellín’s business community would say welcome to 21st century globalization. Undoubtedly, they would also tout Medellín's prowess as Latinoamérica's innovation hub. Certainly, the city has visibly transformed in the past decade and Ruta N, Plaza Mayor and El Poblado Business Center attest to that.
Latinoamérica is forging a quite divergent path from the West much like the rise of BRICS in the East.
These facts notwithstanding, the macro-shifts I see suggest Latinoamérica is forging a quite divergent path from North America (and the West) much like the rise of BRICS in the East. Such cycles of East and West, North and South are not fatalistic, which means the expat presence in Medellín may continue to grow and achieve permanence. My bet would be on reversion, or cultural retrenchment once the pendulum swings too far but only time will tell.
To my mind, Medellín is a beautiful city but one I would leave to the Antioqueños. It is their spiritual abode, their rhythm and chaos, their mountain jungle. If you go to visit for a week or stay for a year(s), you would be advised not to forget that. Next stop, one of my favorite cities in the world, much farther South and a universe away – Buenos Aires.
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