March 11, 2019
For our first full day in Colombia, we were asked to think of ourselves as tourists—as people
in a new environment, out of our comfort zones, where we don’t necessarily know the
language, the people, the culture, the terrain. As someone who had never traveled to South
America before and who didn’t speak Spanish or know much about Latin American culture,
I found this assignment to be a relatively easy one. For this first entry, I would like to offer a
few reflections about language.
About a week and a half before we departed for our study abroad trip, I took a series of five
private Spanish language immersion classes to get myself acclimated to the language and to
pick up a few key words and phrases that I could use on my trip. We focused on basic
greetings, travel related exchanges, and ordering food in restaurants. I was amazed on the
first day in Bogotá to see how useful those few lessons were for me. Around mid-day, we
were given some free time to explore the city and get lunch. While several people in our
group spoke Spanish fluently, I ended up spending time with a colleague who, like me, did
not speak the language. We were both a bit concerned about our ability to navigate the city
safely and effectively. But we took off in search of food and eventually found ourselves in a
restaurant where we were able to ask for a table for dos. I ordered una sopa y una ensalada
without any difficulty. And afterwards, I was successful in asking for directions to el baño.
While these were undoubtedly small victories in the grand scheme of things, I left that
experience feeling proud of what I had accomplished.
However, the confidence that I had gained from that experience vanished later that
afternoon when I discovered, after having left the restroom last, that my group had moved
on with the tour without me. At first, I did not panic, because I assumed that they would
notice that I was missing and come back for me. But as the minutes ticked on and I didn’t see
anyone or get a response from my Group Me messages, I began to wonder how long I would
be alone and how long it would be before someone would notice that I was a stranded tourist.
While this experience would have been disconcerting in any new environment, it was made
all the more challenging by my heightened awareness that I did not know the language. How
did my Spanish instructor tell me to ask for “my friends”? What was the expression for
“where is the police station”? Would I even be safe if I approached a police officer for help?
These were the thoughts that ran through my head as I waited, probably no more than 10
minutes, for my colleagues to come back for me.
The highs and lows of this day were a stark reminder to me of how important language is as
a tool of survival, yes, but also as an entry point for finding one’s sense of belonging and
grounding in a new community and culture.
March 12, 2019
On the second full day of our trip, we visited two private universities in Colombia—
Universidad Externado and Universidad de la Sabana. The day before, we visited Universidad
de los Andes. While each of these universities was a little different in terms of its structure,
mission, layout, etc., there were certain commonalities among them that spoke to the culture
and climate of the area.
First of all, the facilities at each university were remarkably modern and high tech. Coming
from the U.S., I think we often assume that we have the most state-of- the-art facilities in the
world. But the facilities in these universities really demonstrated the level of investment that
Colombians have put into their institutions of higher education. And each university touted
the importance of granting access to higher education to all of its citizens, regardless of
economic stature, a concept that was exemplified by Externado’s motto of Educación para la
libertad.
The campuses were also surprisingly progressive. Every campus had recycling containers
throughout the premises that encouraged environmentally friendly practices. This is
undoubtedly an extension of the fact that Colombia is second only to Brazil in biodiversity.
And one campus – Externado – even had gender neutral bathrooms (baño mixto) – a concept
that has yet to gain traction in the U.S.
Another aspect of the campuses that stood out to me was the amount of walking that the
terrain required. Both Externado and los Andes were nestled in the mountains, where hills
and stairs abound! Climbing up and down the mountains all day was made all the more
challenging by the high altitude of the city. While I found the task of navigating the terrain
extremely taxing, the locals seemed to take it all in stride, with many of the women even
wearing high heels throughout the day! The demands of the landscape were matched,
however, by the amazing displays of plants and flowers on every corner. Spending this time
in Colombia has reminded me not only of how sedentary my own lifestyle has become, but
also how removed I’ve been from nature’s precious gifts. This is a lesson that I hope I will
retain long after the trip has ended.
Finally, I have been impressed by the warm hospitable culture of our university hosts. We
were told prior to coming to Colombia that we should be prepared to dress more formally,
especially for our visits to the university campuses. For each university visit, we have been
greeted by people dressed in suits and dresses, who have offered us coffee and snacks, and
have given us books and gifts representing their respective institutions. Perhaps most
impressive thus far was the presentation of local fruits by the students and faculty at the
school of hospitality at Externado, where we were educated about the warm weather and
cold weather fruits in the region and then given the opportunity to sample them at a
beautifully draped table in the Chef’s kitchen.
March 13, 2019
Today was our first day in Medellin. It was by far the most mentally and physically draining
day of the trip thus far. Much of fatigue can be attributed to the fact that we started before
sun-up in order to catch our flight from Bogotá and that I had also managed to catch a nasty
cold. And when we arrived in Medellin, our tour began immediately with no downtime to
unpack or rest. What we witnessed today left me filled with a wide variety of emotions,
particularly with regard to the people that we encountered.
During our bus ride down the mountain to and then through the city of Medellin, our tour
guide explained to us how the neighborhoods are divided into six socioeconomic strata.
Levels 1-3 represent the poorest neighborhoods, where the residents get free access to
education and healthcare and subsidized housing. Levels 4-6 represent the wealthier
neighborhoods, the wealthiest of which contain houses that are worth the equivalent of a
half million to a million dollars. Looking over the landscape, we were able to see how vastly
different the neighborhoods were across these strata. Our tour guide led us on a tour of the
integrated metro system, which included an adventurous ride up the steep mountains by
way of cable cars. The sophistication of the cable car system stood in stark contrast to the
backdrop of poverty that we observed in the Level 1 and 2 neighborhoods.
Later in the day, we did a walking tour of the comunas or barrios of District 13. I was initially
excited to visit this area, since we had been told that it was here that we would find the
second largest population of Afro-Colombians. Up to this point, we had encountered very few
Black people (almost none in Bogotá) and references to this population of Colombians had
all been couched in discussions of the history of slavery and the current underprivileged
groups in the area. To my dismay, this was precisely the context in which we encountered
the Black Colombians in Medellin. As we struggled up the mountain in District 13, the Afro-
Colombian community came to life. They were living in houses built by hand and stacked on
top of one another with tin roofs held together by lose pieces of wood. We were told about
how dangerous the area had been only a few years ago, plagued by gang violence, drugs, and
murder.
But there was something else that we observed as well, which I can only describe as the
power of human resilience and determination, as “making a way out of no way”. With most
of the violence having been contained, tourists had been invited into the community by way
of escalators that made navigating the steep terrain more bearable. The residents of District
13 had opened their homes to us, allowing us to use their restrooms and turning their homes
into store fronts, where they sold food and merchandise. We were entertained by an
incredibly talented group of break dancers, who performed for tips while tourists cheered
on in amazement. And the walls were all decorated with graffiti that told the stories of
struggle, loss, and pain, but also hope.
March 14, 2019
Our last day in Medellin was much more relaxed. It began with what was supposed to have
been a bus tour of drug kingpin Pablo Escobar’s life history. While the tour guide recounted
the story of Escobar’s life and his reign of terror in Medellin, the only place that we visited
was the site where his seven-story home had been demolished just two weeks before.
Reportedly, the decision had been made to demolish the house so that tourists would stop
obsessing over the glamorized figure that Escobar had become. It was clear that for our tour
guide and presumably for many residents in the area, the pain of those years had left many
scars that had yet to heal. Rather than take us on the tour that was promised, our guide took
us to visit a museum that documented the horror of the Medellin-Cartel era. While I could
imagine the trauma that the community must have suffered in the wake of such a dark and
painful past, I had very mixed feelings about the efforts to try to erase this history. In my
opinion, part of coming to terms with the past is telling the truth of what has transpired. But
of course, I am a visitor in this country. And this is not my story to tell.
This evening, our academic liaison challenged us to reflect on the impact that we’d had as
tourists on the communities that we had visited, as well as the effect that the travel
experience had had on us as tourists. We talked about the benefits of intercultural exchange,
including exposure to new foods, language, music, economic and political structures,
climates, etc. We also talked about the ways in which our impact brought social and economic
benefit to the places that we visited, but also had the potential to disrupt them, often
requiring the host communities to bend in our direction and adhere to our expectations in
ways that are not necessarily beneficial to them.
At some point, the discussion turned to perceptions of race in Colombia and how some
members of our group had felt discriminated against in Medellin. What became clear in this
discussion was not only how our experiences varied depending on our own racial
backgrounds and life histories, but also how our perceptions of the visit were impacted by
these factors. While these tensions were not easy to navigate and certainly not easy to
discuss, I think we all benefitted from the opportunity for self-reflection and the time to share
what we had experienced in an open, honest forum. At the end of the day, these are the real
benefits of study abroad.
I look forward to our visit to Cartagena as we round out our week in Colombia