The Transformation

Recent weather: 60s, overcast with a daily afternoon downpour in Medellin; 80s, sunny and humid in Cartagena
Recent reads: 2 Corinthians-Ephesians, ¨Chosen by a Horse¨ by Susan Richards, ¨The News from Paraguay¨by Lily Tuck.

25 years ago Medellin was a contender for the title of most dangerous city in the world. With an unofficial civil war waging for over 60 years, conflicts among paramilitary and guerrilla groups escalating, and tensions between drug cartels growing, violence was a daily occurrence for kids my age growing up in Medellin. Perhaps that is why paisas (a term for Colombians from the Antioquia region of which Medellin is the capital) are so proud to be paisas--they're proud to be survivors. And no wonder Colombians have such a dark sense of humor-can you blame them? When few Colombians are willing to talk about their turbulent history, sometimes joking is the only way to remember without having to really talk about it. 

Part was designed and built by a Belgian architect but after much badgering about the delay, the Belgian quit leaving locals to finish the rest. You can guess which part was done by the Belgian and which by the locals.

One of the best tours I have done on my whole trip was the Pablo Escobar tour in Medellin. Sure, I learned about Pablo Escobar and saw places where he lived and died but the perspective I got that day went way beyond just one man. 
Pablo Escobar was born December 1, 1949, just outside of Medellin. When other 5 year olds said they wanted to be a doctor or a fireman or an astronaut, little Pablo said he wanted to be a millionaire. At 16, Escobar was expelled from school for stealing the answers to an exam and distributing them to the whole class. From there he joined forces with his cousin, selling weed on the streets, dealing stolen car parts and stealing marble gravestones from cemeteries. By 21 Escobar was making his way through the ranks of the drug distribution business, and by 29, he was head of the Medellin cartel which controlled about 80% of Colombian cocaine trafficking routes.

Above: Escobar´s ID; Below: the second most visited grave site in the world (can you guess the first?), Pablo Escobar, in a private cemetary in Medellin. Ironically, someone stole his marble gravestone and it was recently replaced which is why there is no inscription. 

The modest house where Escobar was hiding out before he was killed by DEA, CIA, Colombian military or police, PEPEs (a group of Escobar's victims or family of victims seeking revenge) or whomever wants to take credit. Family of Escobar claim the shot to the head was self-inflicted, Escobar said he´d kill himself before ever going to prison. The house is for sale!

Escobar, one of the most internationally recognizable criminals of all time, just serves as a mirror for Colombia's shortcomings. For example, when Pablo Escobar, an international drug lord, money launderer and ultimately a murderer who hadn't even finished high school is elected to the Colombian Congress, you know something is wrong with the democratic process. When the Cali cartel can launder drug money through several properties registered under a monkey's fingerprint, you know something is wrong with the legal system. And when Pablo Escobar consents to serve a partial sentence but at his own hacienda and monitored by his own bodygaurds rather than Colombian military or police and the court agrees, you start to wonder if justice really does exist. 
This new found perspective also dispelled a lot of misconceptions I had. First off, Colombia's problems were not solely caused by the drug cartels. Rather, Colombia has had violent political and social unrest for decades and, during the 80s and early 90s, the political scene just set the stage for drug cartels to take hold. The "success"and violence of the drug cartels were simply a symptom of the greater problems that plagued Colombia.

Querida Virgen Maria, please let my plane full of cocaine arrive safely. I think there are more places of prayer dedicated to Mary than to Jesus himself, a manifestation of the Latino matriarchial society.

Likewise, the drug trade didn't start with Pablo Escobar and it certainly didn't end with his death in 1993. Today, Colombia´s reputation is changing and it is much safer and cleaner than ever but cocaine trafficking in Colombia is just as prevalent as when Pablo Escobar had a virtual monopoly on it. After Escobar's death, the Medellin cartel disbanded and now the trafficking routes are controlled by various secret paramilitary and guerrilla groups throughout rural Colombia. The solution to the cocaine problem isn't that simple. While it's easy to point the finger--Colombia supplies an outrageous portion of the world's cocaine--unfortunately, the cocaine is shipped out of Colombia to where the demand is, to Europe and the US. 
I pictured Pablo Escobar as a sort of beloved Colombian Robin Hood, stealing from the rich and giving back to the poor neighborhoods. But Pablo Escobar grew up in a middle class home--he was never starving or destitute-- and became one of the rich in the nastiest way possible. And while he did some seemingly charitable acts, these deeds were usually motivated by selfish greed. For example, Escobar built lighted futbol fields in some rough neighborhoods in order to buy votes on his way to becoming a congressman. 
For most Colombians, Escobar's legacy is something they would like to forget. And if the first thing that comes to mind when you think of Colombia is Pablo Escobar and cocaine, you're basically offending an entire country. If anything, the thousands of people that on a daily basis get singled out, thoroughly searched, and publically humiliated at airports all over the world simply because they flashed a Colombian passport have Pablo Escobar to thank. 
One of the things I found most interesting was that many of Escobar's buildings have remained vacant for years since being confiscated by the police. Rather than turn these huge, multi-level ghost buildings into something useful like a school or a hospital to show the community that some good can evolve from something bad, these structures have remained unused for almost three decades, a daily reminder of the sicaros (driveby hitmen on motorbikes) and car bombs of years ago. Just recently, a couple of them have been bought by private companies and are being remodeled into restaurants or hotels. 

One of Escobar´s headquarters. Of course, it was all white, like the stuff that made him rich. For years it sat vacant, slowly deteriorating. Finally, construction has begun as it was recently bought by a foreign hotel company.

Truth be told, considering the dark "cultural experience"that is Medellin, I actually didn't feel unsafe. That's because Medellin has come a long was since the 80s, a process they call "the transformation." Medellin's transformation started with their Metro system. It's the only metro in the country and it is very clean and easy to use, the crown jewel of the city that they are very proud of and rightfully so. Then, in 2002, President Alvaro Uribe initiated an intense security platform, improving safety immensely, the results of which have made my backpacking trip through Colombia possible. By increasing police and military presence and adding more checkpoints in rural and urban areas all over the country, kidnappings in Colombia decreased about 90% by the end of his term in 2010. I have seen this first hand as several of my buses have been stopped for routine inspections in the middle of nowhere. 
Sergio Fajardo Valderrama, a former teacher and mayor of Medellin from 2003-2007, did his part by improving education and instituting "democratic architecture." La Plaza de Las Luces is a great example of democratic architecture. This square block, once a dark, dingy place, the perfect landscape for prostitution rings and drug deals gone wrong, was remodeled by adding lots of palm trees and an amazing artsy lighting display which serves to make the area more beautiful and safer at night. The building around the plaza, once vacant and home to squatters and drug addicts was renovated in the colonial style and is now home to the secretary of education. As another example, in a hilly neighborhood on the outskirts of town, children and blue collar residents had to climb 350 steps at the end of their day, a tiresome and dangerous stretch especially after sunset. The city built a kind of moving walkway there that improved neighborhood morale and decreased crime. 

An artsy view up of the lighting display.

The lights in Plaza de Las Luces during the day.

Formerly the Hall of Justice, this building was recently purchased by foreign investors and remodeled in the original colonial style. Although it is a shopping mall now, better to be restored and in use than the alternative.

But they´re not done yet. I drove through one Medellin neighborhood, several square blocks worth, full of mechanic shops and car parts stores. No city needs that many oil change shops. Most of the merchandise is stolen and most of the shops are fronts for laundering drug money. Here, on pretty much every corner you can see homeless addicts getting their daily fix. Just on the edge of this neighborhood is a police and fire station. The locals I was with said this neighborhood is one of the safest in the city, that I could walk around here day or night and nothing would happen to me. (Don't worry, Mom, I didn't try it.) It's safe but not because the police are right door. No, because of all the illegal activity that goes on here, the drug lords don't want the spotlight on their neighborhood so they hire their own private security companies which are far more effective at keeping law and order than the police. The last thing they would do would be to mug a harmless tourist and risk unwanted attention from the police or worse. 
For all the bizarre things I observed, for all the sights I can´t unsee, Medellin is a one-of-a-kind cultural experience. It truly is an amazing place--almost Gotham City-esque (yes, I just went there)--full of history-good, bad, and sometimes ugly. If I had to describe Medellin in one word, it would be ¨gritty.¨ Most parts aren´t clean, some people are more than sketchy characters, but if you can see through Medellin´s dodgy past, you´ll notice all the personality here. You´ll see that the people and the city have really grit, real perseverance and a lifetime´s worth of unbelievable stories. 
But after a few days in the city, I was craving the great outdoors again. I headed to Guatape, a pueblo just 2 hours outside of Medellin. I hiked up all 740 steps of La Pierda for an amazing 360 degree view of the multiple lakes in the area. The fog in the photos seems to blur the view but actually the clouds made the whole experience like a dream! 

I want to see La Piedra from up there!

740 Stairs later...

Abreak in the fog.

At the top of La Pierda in Guatape.

With my flight home constantly in the back of my mind, I was on the move again to Cartagena. For as gritty a city as Medellin is, Cartagena is the complete opposite. It just took the ride from the bus terminal to my hostel for me to be entranced with this beautiful city. Like Medellin, Cartagena is full of history too, but this history is colonial, represented in the beautiful Spanish architecture with bright-painted buildings and flower gardens on every balcony. 

Cartagena from outside the walls.

A taste of this lovely city.

The skyline.

A little futbol outside the walled city.

The walled city is hot and sunny but fortunately thereare tons of nearby beaches from which to choose. I spent one day at Playa Blanca, just a boat ride away from Cartagena but worlds away from all your troubles. 

Nothing like a day at Playa Blanca to remind me that I am in a Carribbean paradise!

Crystal clear water

Next destination: Santa Marta!

My San Diego Summer

Recent weather: low 80s, sunny every day, heaven
Recent reads: Daniel-Micah, "Red Zone" by Mike Lupica, "Ports of Call" by Sally Fairchild, "Twelve Years a Slave" by Soloman Thorthop--a sports novel, chicklit, and a fluffy beach read.

At last. I have finally arrived in the ultimate Peruvian beach town: Mancora. While I was freezing (slight exaggeration) in Lima and Cusco, everyone was posting about summer in San Diego and Wisconsin. Now it's time for my San Diego summer!

Day 1: Buy a swimsuit top. Check. Somehow I had lost my swimsuit top along my way which is strange because at one point in time, it was in my regular bra rotation.

Day 2: Go surfing. Check. Surf schools are ubiquitous along the beach so this was an easy one. And with small waves that went on for days, my spirits were high after day 1. But day 3 of surfing was not so easy. It was one of those days where I was never in the right spot at the right time. And with huge waves that broke quickly like a brick wall instead of rolling on and on, well, let's just say that I more than struggled just to keep my head above water, literally. After I would ride the wave and wipe out, gracefully of course, I would come up for air just as another wave would crash over my head, wrap me up feet first and spin me about like a wash machine before spitting me out again even further from where I wanted to be. Repeat. But after a day of rest and a mental pep talk, I was back in the water. At the very least, it's great to be outside, in the water, and getting a heck of a workout!

Day 3: Get a job. Check. This was surprisingly easy considering that in Peru, nothing happens quickly. But after a couple of stops by local bars and hostels, I found a gig working at a hostel bar in exchange for free accommodation. Working with my all-Argentinian family of fellow travelers has been good language practice and I am also now an expert pisco sour maker! Egg white, lime juice, pisco, sugar, ice and shake! I hope I can find pisco at BevMo and keep the pisco sours going when I get home!

And shake!

 But even after everything seemed to align with what I had wanted--sun, surf, and the chance to stay here for a bit--I still didn't feel relaxed. There was definitely a low point when I was lying on the beach, the perfect level of physical exhaustion after a surf sesh, with the sun about to set on an amazing day, here in this Peruvian paradise and I couldn't just be content in that moment. And then I felt guilty for not being happy. I have since come around from that mild meltdown and am back on the positive train. Still happy to be here. Still excited to see and do all that I can. Still learning about myself and my own personal recipe for happiness. And shake.

I seriously cannot complain about this.

Hasta La Vista, Chile

Recent weather: low 70s and sunny Friday-Monday in Iquique; low 70s and sunny during the day, lows in the 30s at night Tuesday-Friday in San Pedro de Atacama; current altitude: 7800 feet above sea level.

Recent reads: Ezra, Nehemiah; "Ernesto Che Guevara" by Marcos A. Alvarez.

Long post here but it has been the best week of my whole trip so far so forgive me for gushing. I won't be offended if you just skim through the photos. Well, mostly, I just won't know.

I arrived in Iquique, Chile mid-day on Friday. If Iquique sounds familiar to you, it's probably because an 8.2 magnitude earthquake hit Iquique just a little over a month ago which made world-wide news. The city is no stranger to earthquakes and reacted quickly but there still a major highway that is down to one lane as they continue to clean up the rubble that tumbled down the mountain.

Still not tired of these.

Follow the boardwalk to the casino!

Random petting zoo.

A couple of fishermen

Highlights of Iquique include:

1. Paragliding! I've wanted to go paragliding for some time now and Iquique has a reputation as being one of the best places in South America to do it. Once the pilot got the parachute under control, he called out for me to walk and then run until I'm sprinting towards the ledge. Just when there's no more ground to run on, the chute picked us up and we were off! I'm pretty sure I was still doing the running man for a bit even after we were in the air. Once we're up, it was time to sit back and enjoy the amazing views of the city. While most of the air time we're gliding about smoothly like a baby in a bassinet, we do follow thermal wind currents which can take us in circular patterns. I didn't get motion sick at all, but I can see how some would with the circular motions. Towards the end of the ride, the pilot did some acrobatic twists and twirls which brought me back to my Six Flags Great America days. We landed on the beach with a less than graceful finish, not surprisingly.

Ready for action!

Running off a cliff. Everyone was doing it. 

This girl gives paragliding 2 thumbs up!

2. The people! After spending 3 weeks with a family in Arica (don't get me wrong, I liked it), it was nice to hang out with other travelers my age again. The hostel had a pool table, table tennis, an epic playlist, and several balconies with ocean views which set the scene for socializing. The hostel seemed to be overtaken by Australians but with the regular smattering of Europeans and a few Americans. One sweet Aussie, knowing where I was headed and knowing how cold it was going to be, even lent me his llama fur jacket for my upcoming trip to Bolivia!

3. Sushi! I've been seeing sushi a lot lately but haven't tried any yet since I consider that to be a sharing type meal. We had a few rolls and salmon sashimi which was obviously very fresh-yum!

On Monday, a New Zealander and I discovered we were both heading to San Pedro in the Atacama Desert so we set out together, taking an 8 hour overnight bus to Calama and another 2 hour bus ride to San Pedro. San Pedro is a small village, mostly just tourist agencies and restaurants along the main drag. Just two days ago, San Pedro got a foot of snow and not all of it had melted yet. (P.S. Is it supposed to snow in a desert?)

Main street in San Pedro

That afternoon, fueled on pancakes and good coffee, the New Zealander and I hit some of the local sights. First, we went to Valle de Luna (Valley of the Moon). We hiked up huge sand dunes to get a 360 degree view of the national park. Even though it was late afternoon, the sun was still fierce. (See, I do know what a desert is like.)

Next, we went to Tres Marias, a 3 pronged stone structure that they say looks like Mary in different poses. Finally, we went to Valle de la Muerte (Valley of the Dead) where we watched the sun set and the mountains change all different colors proving that God truly is the ultimate painter.

Yes, that's snow. 

On Wednesday I went swimming in Laguna Cejar which is 40% salt content so you despite your best efforts, you just float at all times. (The Dead Sea is 30-35% salt.) The water was "refreshing" to say the least but completely worth it. Afterwards, you are caked in salt so a shower is a must.

All this could be yours for 3 easy payments.

Just floating...

Typical Wednesday.

Our tour continued on to Ojos de Salar, two round bodies of water next to each other like two eyes. No one is exactly sure how these were formed, perhaps by indigenous people looking for water, entrepreneurs looking for oil, or just maybe even an alien invasion! These little lakes were much less salty but also much colder. For some reason I was the only person out of the whole group who was brave (read: stupid) enough to swim here but as soon as I jumped in, I understood why. Brr. But hey, when in Rome!

No, I'm not wearing pants.

Our last stop was Tebinquiche where we watched the sun set and the mountains change colors. The mountains reflecting in the 10cm of water in the forefront made for an amazing sight! We capped it off with a pisco sour (okay, two) and headed back to San Pedro.

Snow on the mountains, salt in the foreground.

I'll cheers to that!

I had an incredible last week here in Chile, so much so that, despite the cold, I almost don't want to leave. But Bolivia calls! On Thursday I relaxed in San Pedro, resting and mentally preparing for what's next. Friday morning I head out on a 3 day, 2 night 4WD trip to the salt flats in Uyunia, Bolivia. Most say that the trip is almost as difficult as it is breathtaking with the rustic conditions, high altitude, and bitter cold but that it's all worth it. As always, I'll keep you posted on my travels as I see it.