Traveling around South America I met a lot of people who have spent significant amounts of time in Colombia or planned to in the future. The image you get now, from people who actually know it personally, and not just from stories you hear on the news, is extremely positive. The saying I keep hearing is that the people of Colombia really want to shed the image of being a hostile country and go out of there way to do so.
This is exactly what I found. Unfortunately, I only had one day in Bogota, so I don't have the experience of somebody with a well developed personal opinion of the country. I got the smallest taste of what life in Bogota is like and it left me wanting a whole lot more. I had more random encounters with genuinely nice people in my 16 hours in Bogota, than I did in weeks of time in other countries. The positive image I have of this city is based upon the helpful and caring people that stepped right into my life for a moment while I wandered the streets.
Nestled amongst the Andes, with thick forests all around, the city itself is beautiful and oozing with colorful character that kept me enthralled for every minute I had there. The buildings were bright and well aged, with all the cracks, holes and peeling paint adding to the aesthetic appeal. Cobblestoned streets with vibrant grass popping out between the cracks, lead through tiny alleys and up steep hills. There is ever-present street art which really brings a unique energy to the city.
All I did, all day, was walk around, sit in plazas, eat and take pictures. I headed out of the airport at 9am and ignoring the advice of the information guy at the airport, I took a bus instead of the easier, faster taxi ride ($.75 vs $10). I really had minimal idea of where I was going. I looked at a half-loaded Google map for a few minutes and figured if I just found a bus going straight on the road out of the airport I would be able to figure it out. And it all worked out quite easily. Within 30 minutes I got to La Candeleria in the Centro which is a small neighborhood in the hills of Bogota.
My first encounter was with a nice Colombian man who happened to be homeless. I was eating a massive chocolate croissant-like pastry {photo} in a park and this thin, 20-something-year-old, absolutely filthy but completely unthreatening man approached me and asked me for a piece of my bread. I had just been thinking about how it's literally too big to eat alone, especially after a breakfast of coffee, some strange, mild white cheese, eggs with ham and bread. And he popped up to alleviate the situation. There was something about this man that I immediately saw he wished he didn't have to be asking for food, but was just so desperate he had no other choice. He cupped his hands, stood about 5 feet away and asked in the least threatening way possible for a piece of bread. I couldn't say no, so I ripped a tiny bite off for myself and handed him a piece the size of my hand. He said "que bueno, gracias," about four times before devouring it. He couldn't hide his sincere gratitude if he tried.
This looked even more appetizing before it was stuffed into a plastic bag, smearing all the chocolate drizzle on top.
Being from New York you get trained to ignore most, if not all, beggars. There are simply too many of them and more often than not they are ungrateful or overly annoying. But this guy was alright.
Twenty blocks later I had worked my way through a number of tiny side streets and I was crouched on the sidewalk shooting some biker making his way around a bend. An old man in his 70's with a thick white moustache stopped walking beside me to avoid getting in my way. He then proceeded to ask me how I was liking Bogota and told me about streets nearby I should check out. I got the feeling he was just walking home and saw some young foreigner half lying on the ground in his neighborhood. So why the hell not stop and talk to him? It was genuinely friendly moment between two strangers.
A few hours later I had made my way higher up into the hills. I had heard it's best not to go high up because it can get more dangerous. But everything about the day so far had been so enjoyable and I didn't feel the least bit threatened or anything less than pleasantly surprised by the people here. As I was taking photos of a window cleaner rappelling between two windows, a cop came up to me out of nowhere.
Generally when this happens I have no interest in talking to them and I assume he wants to complain about something I'm doing wrong. But this young cop came up to me just to recommend that I don't walk farther up the hill, and even around here it is better to keep the camera out of sight, just in case. We then talked about why I was in Colombia for the day and what I do in Chile. He also let me know that he would keep any eye out while I was shooting around there. He was just really damn nice. What is it with these people?
While sitting down in a restaurant for lunch I asked the waiter what he recommended because I didn't know anything about Colombian food. He recommended trout with some sort of mushroom sauce. He came back to ask how my food was, and when I told him it was very good, he immediately flashed a smile. He was no doubt feeling proud that he made a good selection. Again, genuinely nice.
Getting a bus back to the airport proved to be a little bit of a hassle. Traffic here in the Centro at rush hour was chaotic. There was an endless stream of buses coughing out black exhaust, sitting in gridlock traffic across massive roads with no real lanes. The buses don't really have designated stops and just hit the brakes for whoever waves at them, where ever they are. That, or it passes them by for no apparent reason.
After 25 minutes of confusion and realizing this location wasn't going to work. I headed to another mass of people on the side of a busy street and finally crammed my way onto a bus that was well over capacity. What I found fascinating is that people would hop on through the backdoor and to my surprise, every single person would pass money through a packed bus of strangers to the driver up front. The driver would then send their change back and it would pass through a dozen hands before returning. Somehow it would all make it back, every time.
I had several other encounters with nice Colombians throughout the day and it just left me feeling really good inside. It was refreshing to have so many strangers treating an outsider like family and experiencing an environment unlike a majority of cities I've been to. I don't know if all of Colombia is like this or if I just happened to stumble upon an uncharacteristically nice chain of events. But either way my first impressions are overwhelmingly positive and I can't wait to go back.
