The two Colombias

It was already dark by the time I arrived in Bogota. I was extremely grateful that Monica, the sister of a friend of a friend in Boulder, had agreed to wait for me at the airport. The flight had arrived 15 minutes before the scheduled 9:35pm arrival time, but because of walkway malfunction, it wasn’t until well after 10:00pm that I was able to get my bag and find Monica waiting patiently in the airport lobby. Luckilly my letter from the Universidad de los Andes (UniAndes) – one of the most prestigious and expensive universities in Colombia – made my passage through immigration and customs easy, otherwise I might not have made it out of the airport by midnight.

I apologized for the delay and told Monica about the broken-down walkway. “Bienvenido a mi país desordenado (Welcome to my disorganized country),” she said as she explained that the airport was brand new, but that things rarely run smoothly in Colombia.

This fundamental contradiction between development and inequality, discord and prosperity is a theme that came up again and again throughout my first few days in Colombia. Everywhere you look there are two Colombias, the one for the rich and the one for the poor.

This stark divide is visible across the city: in the heavy security that separates the city from UniAndes (which Monica described as another world “otro mundo”), in the squatter neighborhood that stands like a disorganized pile of rubble against the backdrop of a billion-dollar residential development, and most dramatically in the north (rich)/ south (poor) divide that splits Bogota in half.

Monica, while dropping me off at my hostel in La Candelaria, told that she rarely ever goes to the center of the city, and while she didn’t say it explicitly she implied that the area to the south of the center was not an area she would consider visiting.

Later, on top of Monserrate, after hearing of the north/south divide from our tour guide, Andres, my fellow classmate and traveller, Olivia Snarski, waxed philosophical: “That’s so interesting, I want to wright a novel about a tragic love story between the north and south,” she said evoking images of in my mind of Romeo and Juliet and he West Side Story – classic tales if star-crossed lovers.

The socio-economic stratification in Colombia not just informal, it is also institutionalized in the country’s progressive tax code. People receive a tax ranking on a scale of one to six, one being the poor (like those living in the squatter settlements I described above) and six being the ultra rich (those who can afford to send their children to UniAndes without a scholarship). This score is based in part on ones income and in part on the neighborhood in which you live. Andres said that even if his ecotourism business were to take off and he started making fistfuls of money, he would still be considered a level two because he is a rent-payer living in Candelaria. Both Monica and Andres used this scale to describe the neighborhoods we passed as we traversed the city on our respective tours.

It has only been a week since I landed in Bogota. First impressions abound. Ask me again in two months whether these impressions stand up to the test of time.

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Here goes something

Driving to the airport this morning, a massive cloud burst drenched the road about 15 miles around Boulder. Torrents of water gushed over the highway making driving difficult. After a week of sunny weather while visiting family in Colorado, I could only imagine that this was Mother Nature’s way of giving me a reality check on what to expect for the rest of my summer working and traveling in Colombia.

Having my mom with me on the morning drive to the airport has become somewhat of an unofficial tradition. The last time we made the trip together I was on my way to the concrete jungle of New York City to begin my first semester at Columbia’s School of International Public Affairs (SIPA). This time I’m off to another sort of jungle – the mangrove forest that surrounds Bahía Málaga, Colombia.

As we drove through the downpour I could tell that my mom, a world traveler and adventure seeker in her own right, was trying not to be too nervous for me. “Well, it’s not like we haven’t prepared you for this sort of thing,” she said more to calm herself than to reassure me.

Since as long as I can remember my mom, a retired school teacher, would take her summers off to travel with me. Unlike many tourists who go to Central America to stay in gated resorts, we would stay in the eight-dollar-per-night hostels and travel by local bus, seeking authentic foreign experiences off the “gringo trail.”

“Mom,” I replied, “I think you’ve actually pre-disposed me to this sort of thing.”

(Don’t worry dad, our backpacking trips in the Colorado wilderness and on the Appalachian Trail are also to blame.)

I’d be lying, however, if I failed to admit that I am also a bit nervous. My summer field placement (aka internship) will begin with a week-long orientation at the University of the Andes. My visit will then take a swift and decisive turn off the gringo trail. From Bogota, I will fly to Cali (home of the once-notorious Cali Cartel), take a bus to Buenaventura (Colombia’s most important port city and also one of its most dangerous), hop two boats to Bahía Málaga (a secluded bay that is visited by more humpback whales than tourists). My final destination is close to a Colombian naval base that features relics of the increasingly high-tech illegal drug trade. Progressively more complex boats and submarines, built by drug lords to smuggle cocaine, are displayed like rotting carcasses – a testament to Colombia’s decades-long internal conflict.

Hidden along the banks of the various tributaries that funnel into the bay are numerous afro-Colombian communities. Bahía Málaga is one of the most biodiverse regions on the planet due to the high number of endemic species, but the people who live there are also among the poorest – with poor infrastructure, low numeracy and literacy, and high maternal mortality.

These afro-Colombian communities primarily subsist through agricultural and extractive activities (mining, logging and fishing), but the pristine natural environment that surrounds them provides enormous potential for ecotourism – not to mention that Bahía Málaga is the number one calving ground for humpback whales in the world. The goal of my field placement is to identify and develop opportunities to grow the ecotourism industry as a source of income for local communities.

I can’t begin to describe how I feel about the opportunities, challenges, and uncertainties that undoubtedly await me…nervous is an understatement, but with the help of my colleagues (Yoon – a fellow SIPA student – and Rosangela – a Colombian student) I’m confidant that we can make a valuable contribution to the sustainable development of Bahía Málaga.

It’s times like these that I’m reminded of the final Calvin and Hobbes comic strip, and Calvin’s last words: “It’s a magical world, Hobbes ol’ buddy…lets go exploring.”

Calvin and Hobbes

Here goes something

Driving to the airport this morning, a massive cloud burst drenched the road about 15 miles around Boulder. Torrents of water gushed over the highway making driving difficult. After a week of sunny weather while visiting family in Colorado, I could only imagine that this was Mother Nature’s way of giving me a reality check on what to expect for the rest of my summer working and traveling in Colombia.

Having my mom with me on the morning drive to the airport has become somewhat of an unofficial tradition. The last time we made the trip together I was on my way to the concrete jungle of New York City to begin my first semester at Columbia’s School of International Public Affairs (SIPA). This time I’m off to another sort of jungle – the mangrove forest that surrounds Bahía Málaga, Colombia.

As we drove through the downpour I could tell that my mom, a world traveler and adventure seeker in her own right, was trying not to be too nervous for me. “Well, it’s not like we haven’t prepared you for this sort of thing,” she said more to calm herself than to reassure me.

Since as long as I can remember my mom, a retired school teacher, would take her summers off to travel with me. Unlike many tourists who go to Central America to stay in gated resorts, we would stay in the eight-dollar-per-night hostels and travel by local bus, seeking authentic foreign experiences off the “gringo trail.”

“Mom,” I replied, “I think you’ve actually pre-disposed me to this sort of thing.”

(Don’t worry dad, our backpacking trips in the Colorado wilderness and on the Appalachian Trail are also to blame.)

I’d be lying, however, if I failed to admit that I am also a bit nervous. My summer field placement (aka internship) will begin with a week-long orientation at the University of the Andes. My visit will then take a swift and decisive turn off the gringo trail. From Bogota, I will fly to Cali (home of the once-notorious Cali Cartel), take a bus to Buenaventura (Colombia’s most important port city and also one of its most dangerous), hop two boats to Bahía Málaga (a secluded bay that is visited by more humpback whales than tourists). My final destination is close to a Colombian naval base that features relics of the increasingly high-tech illegal drug trade. Progressively more complex boats and submarines, built by drug lords to smuggle cocaine, are displayed like rotting carcasses – a testament to Colombia’s decades-long internal conflict.

Hidden along the banks of the various tributaries that funnel into the bay are numerous afro-Colombian communities. Bahía Málaga is one of the most biodiverse regions on the planet due to the high number of endemic species, but the people who live there are also among the poorest – with poor infrastructure, low numeracy and literacy, and high maternal mortality.

These afro-Colombian communities primarily subsist through agricultural and extractive activities (mining, logging and fishing), but the pristine natural environment that surrounds them provides enormous potential for ecotourism – not to mention that Bahía Málaga is the number one calving ground for humpback whales in the world. The goal of my field placement is to identify and develop opportunities to grow the ecotourism industry as a source of income for local communities.

I can’t begin to describe how I feel about the opportunities, challenges, and uncertainties that undoubtedly await me…nervous is an understatement, but with the help of my colleagues (Yoon – a fellow SIPA student – and Rosangela – a Colombian student) I’m confidant that we can make a valuable contribution to the sustainable development of Bahía Málaga.

It’s times like these that I’m reminded of the final Calvin and Hobbes comic strip, and Calvin’s last words: “It’s a magical world, Hobbes ol’ buddy…lets go exploring.”

Calvin and Hobbes