Saturday, May 8, Medellín, Colombia

In the hostels, everybody raved about Medellín--it seems to be everybody’s favorite part of Colombia. The general consensus among the travelers I’d talked to had built it up to be incredible, so I was really excited when I hopped off the bus. I probably should have Couchsurfed here as well, because paísas (the people of this region) are famous for their hospitality. The stereotype is totally true--Paísas are SO NICE. Case in point: I was checking out at the grocery store last night and the guy had already rung everything up. I reached into my pocket and...realized I’d forgotten my wallet. In Buenos Aires, I’d have gotten an immediate earful from the checker and everyone in line, so I started apologizing like crazy, stammering about how it was just an accident. “That’s OK! Everyone forgets things sometimes! Don’t worry about it,” the checker told me. What? Unheard of. Wow, I’ll take it!
What’s actually impressed me most was how pleasant it was. This is my first trip to Colombia--I (obviously) hadn’t been here during the height of the violence about 15 years ago. As Pablo Escobar’s city, though, gunfights were commonplace and tourism was pretty much nonexistant. In most places, I see pleasantness as a mark of averageness: only something better or worse than pleasant warrants comment. Given its past, though, Medellín strikes me as remarkable; it’s now a modern, clean, safe city, as far as South American cities go. It’s not perfect or slum-free, but these days you’re not going to be kidnapped or shot by warring drug cartels.
The nightlife’s pretty good here, too. I got pretty spoiled on the sheer number of options while living in Buenos Aires, as well as the fact that everything’s open all night, but Medellín is pretty chic. All in all, I met some good people at my hostel, saw a whole lot of Botero sculptures, and got my hands on a guidebook and some maps to sit down and hammer out a skeleton of the rest of my trip.