7 Days, 168 Hours, August 24th 2010

 48 hours ago I was boarding a plane in Cartagena, flying over Crespo, seeing the beach, seeing Marbella, the historical center, Manga, la Popa and all the other barrios that stretch out off the ocean's coast. Each sight brought back memories. I could see the structure of Cartagena, I could see the islands, the bridges that make Cartagena one town and the chaos.

One more look at the town.

Thinking about all the great moments I had enjoyed in this bewitching town...my lover of a town, my little box of memories opened itself like a jack in the box, each sight bringing back memories.

A few songs in my head and vibrant memories of being embraced in the ocean watching sunrise came to my mind...

Moments of passion and bliss that had blinded me from the misfortunes I had experienced. Moments of laughter and happiness that had helped me overcome bad luck and turned my stay into another wonderful experience.

Moments of delirium and deep conversations over delicious liquid happiness that had won over any sort of chemical remedies.

Tears were not allowed to ruin the happiness I felt, I wanted that feeling to last for as long as possible and help me through when facing reality...

Reality minus 2 hours...I'm on my last stretch of the journey, on the last train, 50 hours, door to door...

I have been in Europe for 28 hours and I'm trying to understand why we, Europeans look so haggard by life and deal with it so differently, so pessimistically...

Today in the big town, streets are filled with white noises and people's conversations, half muttered, half grumbled, no music. The sky is grey, not a hint of blue even in the rain clouds, colorless rain in town. People look scarily thin or unhealthily overweight and none look happy. Closed faces, masked by the stress of the day, by work and tight deadlines, pressure of paying the new mortgage and coping with life, no smiles.

Talks of hours being cut down, prices thrown into every conversation, complaints about the weather, too hot or too cold for the season, no smiles.

People run, people grunt, even holiday makers that are making their way home after a few well deserved days in the sun, no smiles.

So is it true then? Life is better under the sun?

Colombia is known to be the archetype of a violent country with a protracted conflict and I feel more violence being here in Europe. Tension is so high and dense that it makes my heart beat faster...I hate the social climate here, when it's tougher in Colombia...

Confusing...

Cultural violence VS structural violence?

Now feeling like a stranger in my own land...Not understanding but smiling.

I've learned from Colombia...from conversations in a hammock watching the moon to conversations on the street watching people, from truths I didn't want to hear to truths I carefully listened too, from  problems to  solutions, for here and now.

4 days here and reality struck, not the reality I was expecting when still on the train. Harsh, cold, nasty reality, the one that stings the hardest. Shattering news and unbearable situation that used to make me want to escape and I'm holding on.

Colombia gave me a new rhythm, a new sound and a new vision...It's about the attitude, not the situation...

Peace and Colombian sound and vision to all...