Bogotá

It took less than three minutes to make friends in Bogotá. I walked into my dorm room and there they were: Paulina and Felicia from Texas. Although I was a bit tired from my flight, I decided to join them for a walk around the Candelaria: the district we were staying in.

After a few missed turns and stopping to buy some strange fruit that was like a grape mixed with a lychee, we made it to Bolivar Square. It should be called Pigeon Square. There were literally thousands of birds…thousands. Locals sold corn to tourists, so they could take artsy Instagram photos. I didn’t even have corn and still the birds were landing on me. Eventually, I did decide to pull a Mary Poppins.

We walked around a bit, then returned to the hostel to have some delicious local soup: ajiaco. It was a creamy broth with chicken, potatoes, corn, and onions, drizzled with sour cream and served with avocado and rice. Once my belly was full, I decided I would stay in for the night.

Side thoughts: I used to love to go explore all the cool clubs in the countries I visited. There was a bar in Medellín with ball pits (like the ones for kids only these are for adults). Bogotá hosts the largest club in South America and another that has thirteen mini-clubs inside. I feel zero remorse for not going to these places. I’ve gotten to the point in my life where I prefer conversation and a slowly sipped drink. Don’t get me wrong, I will go to clubs occasionally…well on rare occasions.

 

I had no time to waste the next day. My flight left at eleven pm and I wanted to get as much crammed in as possible. First I did yoga, then I went on a walking tour, and finally I took the cable car up to Monserrate and watched the sun set. Oh, I also squeezed in a visit to Crepes and Waffles cause obviously that was absolutely necessary before leaving Colombia: nutella waffles with Ferrero Rocher ice cream…seriously, how could I not?

The walking tour was unlike any I had been on before. In fact, I didn’t see much in regard to important sites in Bogotá. What I did see was a neighborhood in transition. The company Breaking Borders was founded two and a half years ago by three teenagers who had had enough of gang violence. They teamed up with one of the local universities and together formed a group whose goal was to steer future generations away from violence and ultimately change their community.

We toured Barrio Egipto, in which there were four different gangs, four borders. Our guides, the eldest of which was one of the founders and only twenty-two, pointed out the graffiti and explained its significance. They spoke of how the gangs respected the group and what they were trying to do for the children. If a tourist walked into that neighborhood alone they would surely be robbed, but with Breaking Borders they were somehow immune.

I still have difficulty wrapping my head around this, especially since some of the leaders are former gang members – why don’t the active gang members try to kill them. In my brain I think: old grudges die hard. I mean think of Romeo and Juliet: the two families had been fighting for so long that they didn’t even really know what they were fighting about. Not only that but they expected their children to carry the same hatred.

There were children from all four gangs in Breaking Borders. They came together and interacted in harmony, even though their fathers might fighting to the death on the other end of town. It may not have made sense to me, but I was glad that the group was succeeding in making positive changes in their community.

Warmed by the prospect of proactive youth, I met up with Felicia and Paulina to take the cable car to Monserrate. This church was built at the top of one of the mountains surrounding Bogotá. With more time I would have hiked up to it, but sacrifices must be made in a crunch.

As the sun slipped away, the view grew in beauty. The clouds glowed in the fading light, and millions of land-stars twinkled as the city came to life. It was a magical way to end my time in South America.