Category Archives: Colombia

Until the end of the world

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Movies and music used to be an important part of my life. I used to hang out with cool friends that could speak for hours about Win Wenders and obscure soundtracks. I never knew too much about those myself but I guess I brought other things to the conversation. Fascination for example, and endless curiosity.

Courtesy of the pandemic we now have access to all streaming channels available. This includes Criterion. And yes, I finally got to watch the movie with such a great title and amazing soundtrack. It turns out that the soundtrack was more successful than the movie. I can see how excruciating it would have been to watch it at the movie theater. At home, with pauses for life and sleep, it is a 5-hour masterpiece of imagination and travel.

It got me thinking about art and artsy people that spend their lives following their passion and making a name for themselves. I admire their courage and dedication. So much to say about their time and understanding of the world. I am not sure much will be left to reminisce about in 50 years. Maybe I am already too old to appreciate new trends, but somehow I doubt tiktok will pass the test of time.

That takes me to reading. For years I have felt guilty and sad about only reading for work. I reminisce of the summers at my grandparents farm, laying in a hammock and devouring book after book. It is difficult to replicate that sense of eternity and lack of urgency that allows you to just embody the story the characters are going through. It also takes good writing. And that is as precious as gold.

I am very partial to certain authors and styles. I guess coming from the country of Macondo I was destined to enjoy the so-called Literatura Fantastica. Cien años de soledad and La casa de los espiritus are my all time favorites. I think it is also about timeless families and stories. I couldn’t get enough from Guadalcanal and now from Largo Petalo de mar.

I am not sure any of those will be the same in English. Each language has its own music and very rarely have I enjoyed a literary translation. Yet, I guess if you don’t know the original language it doesn’t matter. So if you have a chance I encourage you to try some Isabel Allende, Garcia Marquez, Benedetti, William Ospina, and let yourself go.

Bogotá

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There are so many preconceptions about Bogotá. The city I grew up in the 1970s and 1980s was a city in which at 12 I could go to a movie with a friend and walk back home without worries. Granted, the theater was half a block from home, but still, it didn’t feel unsafe. I am sure that big battles against drug cartels and the like were being fought somewhere but I was never aware of them. That changed in the 1990s, as Michael Palin reflected in Full Circle, or perhaps I just became more aware of danger when my hippo-campus finally developed.

I recently visited again after a few years away and the feeling was that of a city inundated with cars, many of them connected to the sharing economy, and one in which those displaced from the war were finally assimilated, while the newcomers were families from Venezuela asking for food in the street. I think safety considerations have eased up or they all just got used to living with heightened precautions and smog.

Bogotá is also a city that just elected the first woman for mayor and has a Salsa al Parque and Rock al Parque music festivals. It is a city of graffiti accepted as art and great artists and museums. It is a city of magical mountains and epic restaurants that would rival any in the island I now call home. In just a week I enjoyed fusion food and muddled wine at a new brewery at Parque 93, Italians at Calle 85, Zona Rosa and in the middle of a traditional market and French at the old center of the city. Of course, the best food was at home, where my mother delighted us with a Bandeja Paisa and an Ajiaco that brought infinite memories and comfort.

It is a city I love. And I would love it anyway no matter what because my family and dear friends are there. Yet, as Mercedes Sosa says, “uno vuelve siempre a los viejos sitios donde amó la vida y entonces comprende cómo están de ausentes las cosas queridas”, which may simply mean that longing for going back is not really an option. So here it is, my tribute to Bogotá, the city that embraced me at birth, made me the resilient person I believe I am, and now welcomes me with open heart when I visit. Thank you.

Check @1538crea for Bogotá memorabilia