That night, of all nights, the WIFI doesn't work, and so I sleep peacefully towards the morning, while 10'000 kilometers to the northeast, a funny sweet little girl named Mila Sofia sees the light of day.
Welcome to our world, princess Mila Sofia!
I must have sensed it somehow, since early in the morning, iPad in hand, I wearily stumble out into the hallway with half-closed eyes, where the WIFI might be working. I open the mailbox, and the first thing I see is the peaceful face of my first granddaughter.
And so the little girl is THE number one topic of conversation at breakfast. It is probably quite unusual for a newborn to be celebrated by so many different nations. Canadians, French, Spaniards, Colombians, Americans, Australians congratulate me, shake my hand, hug me, pat me on the shoulders.
So awesome to be the father of my daughter ...
Medellín is a great city
It's been a good day from the start. Mila Sofia opens the round of positive experiences on this special day in Medellin, and this is how it continues.
I take the metro to the San Antonio station in the center of the city and wow! Within seconds I feel that this city is something truly special. Just as the thumb went down for Cali in an instant, it goes up here.
Considering what it was like during Pablo Escobar's time, it's really surprising (by the way - if you don't already know it, there's a Netflix series worth watching called "Narcos" fictionalizing the life and death of the city's most famous and infamous son - don't miss it).
A particular energy seems to ooze from every pore of the city. The weather is as beautiful as one could wish for, not too hot, but above all no longer cold. There is something light in the air, something floating, weightless. It seems as if the city had put on its most beautiful face that day.
Medellín is the capital of the Antioquia department in Colombia.
With more than 3,7 million inhabitants, it is the second largest metropolitan region in Colombia after the capital Bogotá and is located in the Aburrá Valley, a valley in the central mountain range of the Andes in northwestern Colombia, at an altitude of 1538 meters.
Medellín is therefore also called Capital de la Montaña, capital of the mountains. Medellín is the only city in Colombia to have an elevated railroad (opened 1995) that connects the city with its surroundings. The Metro de Medellín has two lines with a total 42 km of rail network. The city also operates two cable car lines to the poor neighborhoods of Santo Domingo and San Javier, and the Ayacucho Tram, a track-guided trolley line based on the Translohr system. Each year, the cable car lines transport around 100 million passengers.
Pablo Escobar
The name Medellín became famous over the infamous Medellin Cartel, which, alongside the Cali cartel, was the world's largest cocaine exporter from the early 1980s to the mid-1990s.
It was among others by Pablo Escobar and concentrated its activities from the Colombian city of Medellín to the sales markets in the USA with a focus on Miami and Florida. The emergence of the cartel, which had the character of individual illegal companies operating side by side rather than a tightly managed criminal organization such as the Sicilian Mafia, was closely linked to the rapidly increasing demand for cocaine in the USA at the end of the 1970s.
The US DEA claimed that the organized crime of the Medellín cartel supplied 80 percent of the US market, even 80 percent of the world trade, according to Time magazine. 1975 the country exported about an annual quantity of 4.000 kilograms to the United States.
The transport routes from Medellín via Norman's Cay to Miami were continuously expanded since 1978 by Carlos Lehder. The heyday of the Medellin cartel was represented by the 1980 years. After the death of Pablo Escobar and the decline of the cartel, the transportation routes also changed. From Medellín, and Cali, the cocaine was shipped via La Ceiba in Honduras to Tampico or to Brownsville in Texas. By the end of the 1980s, 80 % of the cocaine sold to the U.S. passed through the Mexican border, thus starting the rise of Mexican cartels, such as the Sinaloa Cartel.
But in fact I don't want to know any of this, too much blood and tears cling to these unfortunate memories. Whether the city has definitely overcome its inglorious past remains to be seen. I am confident, because the positive vibes in the air are already a start.
Pure joie de vivre
So much about the evil past of the city, which cannot be seen on this wonderful day. I let myself be carried along, through the alleys leading in all directions, between the densely packed stalls, which, strangely enough, almost all sell nothing but caps. No idea why Medellín, of all places, has such a penchant for colored caps.
Restaurants in all colors invite you for a drink, and of course music is coming out of all doors and windows, salsa like in Cali, but more relaxed, not so encroaching.
Although the city has made a name for itself as a drug haven, it is much more. I consult the city map, then follow the streets, pass old buildings and churches and cathedrals (no kidding) and am once again impressed by the rich past, primarily due to the legacy of the Catholic Church.
A protest demonstration
And then, out of nowhere, polyphonic noise, musical instruments, loudspeakers, everything needed for a proper demo.
Since I have not the slightest idea, I ask an elderly lady carefully, she laughs as if she guessed my thoughts and explains me. This Saturday there are demonstrations across the country against the Santos government and against the peace pact between the government and the FARC, which was narrowly rejected by the people, but which was nevertheless implemented in a somewhat weaker form. This still seems to be causing a lot of trouble; However, everything is very peaceful and is more like a kind of folk festival.
Everything remains peaceful, the police are holding back, the day is celebrated, but it is slowly becoming darkened with dark clouds.
Comuna 13 - the former heart of darkness
However, I have to be back at the hotel at half past two, as then the so-called graffiti tour starts, which is supposed to lead us to one of the most notorious neighborhoods of the city, the Comuna 13, i.e. where murder and manslaughter were commonplace just a few years ago.
We are a colorful group, with me leading in terms of age. Two young lads, locals, lead the group as guides. We follow them with slightly mixed feelings, because as I said, on these streets, alleys, stairs, the blood of countless victims has seeped.
So we enter the heart of darkness, climb the stairs or let ourselves be led by escalators to the higher realms. In these catacombs and labyrinths, in these nested huts and houses, lived tens of thousands of people, including families, children, old people, surrounded by the worst scum of human history.
Here the narcos fought with the ultras and the police and the army and the FARC, until a few years ago the government pulled the emergency switch and flattened everything to the ground in a night and fog exercise. Many hundreds of people, most of them probably innocent victims, died during that exercise.
Everything we have told so far is history, claim our rather poor English-speaking guides. Now, a good seven years later, everything is different. No more drugs, no more homicides, everything is in order, the joy of life is back, the children now play without danger again.
A new image
The thought that murder and manslaughter reigned here not so long ago, where every step out of the house could mean death, is unimaginable. And yet historically relevant. The two guides try their best to bring us strangers closer to the time with all the unimaginable tragedies, but they quickly (we are grateful despite the fascination) turn back to the present.
After the end of the drug cartel, the authorities tried their best to give the city and especially this notorious neighborhood a new future, a new image. They have obviously succeeded. Instead of drugs and crime, a kind of everyday life has now taken hold. The people are friendly, just sometimes a wry look at the young and naive visitors coming from their sheltered countries and now teasing themselves on a sightseeing tour about the neighborhood's evil past.
Has goodness in man triumphed?
Not that the old cynic me doesn't believe in the goodness in people and behavioral changes, but in this case I am skeptical.
I might rather imagine that the whole thing is now happening a bit more secretly, below the visibility threshold, so to speak. The omnipresent corruption is still there, after all, and it doesn't just disappear from one day to the next, especially not by government decree (which is also part of the game).
Well, anyway, walking through the alleys, the strange and surprising feeling arises that it is actually good to live here. Children play in the narrow streets, the nested houses provide living space for the most diverse inhabitants of all ages, one hears voices, laughter, music. Old men sitting in front of their houses, women hanging laundry, everywhere Salsa playing ...
Is it deceiving? Or is it not?
Looking at the scenery with the painted houses in red, orange, green, blue, brown, nested on top of each other, clinging to the steep slope, I think for the first time - and am most amazed myself - that I could live here.
But this has not only to do with the houses, but with what has made this part of town a tourist hotspot.
The Graffitis
Whether it was a planned move by the authorities or a coincidence was involved, the main interest of the visitors is not only the bloodthirsty past of the Comuna 13, but primarily the special highlights of the neighborhood - the Graffitis.
These are not the first stunning graffiti in South America, remember Buenos Aires, Cochabamba and others. But what is presented here on every wall is pure art. The art of graffiti.
We are being led past all the paintings, we are amazed, want to linger, let the charisma take effect. But time is pressing, we are rushed on, from one painting to the next, we are struck and cannot stop marveling, admiring.
