Medellin doesn’t hide it’s past; but it doesn’t ruminate on it either. It hasn’t been erased or built over. In fact, remnants of it are still out in the open, displayed as reminders that this history is now part of Colombia and thus, part of the Colombian people too. As a result, people in this city embrace the past as a catalyst for living “in the now” more vehemently than we know how.
Colombians in Medellin consider themselves a different breed than the rest of the country. This started long before the most recent history that most of the world assimilates with this city; but the past 30 years have only catalyzed this perspective. They’re shrewd, and quick witted. They are tough and resourceful. More than anything however, they have an unbelievable ability to compartmentalize the bad from the good, and then celebrate the good every day.
Seventy year old women who in reality should not have to be grinding out a living, work the street stalls each day selling everything from t-shirts to brooms. Yet they’re all smiling, all the time. Women line up against the sides of churches, selling their bodies to feed their kids; and casually chat with our tour group, offering us candies from a super sized bag. The gondola that connects the slums to the city glides over happy barefooted children playing soccer in the dirt. They’re all happy just to be happy.
At night this city comes alive. Groups of friends linger at dinner for hours, each table sharing bottles of gin that they empty into goblets of tonic to mix their own bottomless g&tTs. Closer to midnight the sidewalk becomes a stationary parade of bars with open patio’s, each trumpeting their own soundtrack over the blare of their neighbors. On the street corners, acrobats in bright colored body suits swing from ropes attached street poles in their own impromptu red light Cirque du Soleil. And the people party.
On our last day we stroll through countless plazas and squares crowded by the city’s residents passing the hours in the company of friends; doing nothing more than living in the moment. Despite the hardships of history that in some way, shape or form haunt almost everyone here, they choose to celebrate the good things no matter how small. On the far side of the last square are two large twin bird statutes donated by Botero; one gleaming, fat, and happy; the other bird blown open by a bomb years earlier, it’s metal feathers wrenched and torn. The past doesn’t hide here, but it won’t capture the beauty of this city either.
