Colombia: The Only Risk is Wanting to Stay

By: Gavin Laughlin

April 2, 2013

For the Holy Week, the vast majority of my friends went to either the Galapagos Islands or Machu Picchu. Both sites, to me, look breathtakingly beautiful, and I want to visit them when I return to the Andes. Despite these compelling destinations, my fascination with traveling to Colombia started when I met a friend climbing Pichincha Mountain near Quito. My friend, Juan, told us that he would show us around Medellin if we visited him. In a last minute decision, my friend and I decided to book our flights. Tourists usually go to Cartagena or Bogotá, but we decided to take a risk.

The internet offered us little positive information about the city. The tourism websites were old and ugly, and I read an outdated article about drug lords kidnapping tourists. My family and friends were a little on-edge about my trip to Colombia given its violent history. Medellin was once ranked the most dangerous city in the world. Pablo Escobar controlled police officers or had the police against him killed. At one point, Escobar even put a $2,000 mark on the head of each police officer. The FARC [Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia], the government, the Cali Cartel, and the Medellin Cartel were enveloped in an all-out war. We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into and knew very little about modern Medellin.

When leaving the airport to get into central Medellin, our taxi driver asked us about all the stereotypes we had about Colombia. We responded with the typical stereotypes of widespread violence and drugs. The taxi driver laughed and lamented the poor global reputation Colombia has suffered. However, he assured us that “El unico riesgo es que te quieras quedar.” Translation: “The only risk is wanting to stay.” He couldn't have been more right.

Los paisas, the name for people from the region of Antioquia, are the warmest, most open, friendliest, and happiest people I've had the pleasure to meet in my life. At the airport, I was biting my nails and a local mother came up to me and gave me a sharp command “No te muerdas las uñas” ("Don't bite your nails"). Then she gave me a motherly smile and walked away. People in Medellin and the surrounding villages we visited went out of their way to tell us how proud of their country they are and tried to speak broken English with us.

In Guatapé, where I saw the most beautiful view of my life, we stayed in a hostel run by a paisa family. They invited us enthusiastically to join in on a party they were hosting, and we ended up talking with them until 4 a.m. about politics, literature, and life in general. My friend Juan, who we only met twice before our trip, invited us to his finca home in the countryside. He introduced us to his childhood friends, and they all dropped everything to make sure we had a phenomenal time in Colombia. Everywhere we went, we received a barrage of welcoming and kindness.

We left Colombia with our minds blown. At every corner, we found something we loved about Antioquia. The difference between American stereotypes and paisa reality was striking. My expectation was to drink phenomenal coffee, go up the cable car, and take the Pablo Escobar tour. In fact, those were our least memorable moments of Medellin. Instead, we found a vibrant, clean, safe city developing new social programs, education, and sustainability initiatives. People in Medellin were proud of their ranking as the “World´s Most Innovative City,” a well-deserved title.

When I came back this past week, I could not stop talking about Colombia. My friend asked me “What's up with this Colombia obsession?” I told her she needed to visit in order to understand. Anyone who visits will fall victim to the only risk: wanting to stay.

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