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es peligroso
A couple of times when we were in Bogotá, we ventured into places we shouldn't go. Both times locals swooped down like guardian angels to redirect us.
Once was when we started up a path into the hills, thinking vaguely that it might get us up Cerro de Monserrate, a mountain that's a pilgrimage site and from which you can see all of Bogotá. I wasn't super keen on being along on a trail in the hills, but Wakanomori pointed out that there was a grandfatherly-aged man up ahead of us, with a child, and that so long as there were other people around, we'd be fine.
We hadn't taken more than two steps on the path when the grandfather turned around and came up to us. "No vengas por aquí,"** he said. "Es peligroso." Don't come here; it's dangerous.
I don't know whether he meant the path itself was dangerous--like there were steep drops or something--or that there might be other sorts of trouble, but we didn't argue. We just said thank you and that we'd turn around. We took the cable car up Monserrate instead. It was magnificent.
cable car going up
view from the top
The other time was when we went to see the church that's right at the edge of the Egipto neighborhood, which has a fair amount of gang violence. (Basically, as you go south from Bogotá and up the sides of the hills, things become more precarious.) We walked up the steep streets (not yet in Egipto)...
... and came to the church (there are many, many beautiful churches in Bogotá). It was begun in 1556 and finished in 1657, but the present look is due in large part to modifications at the start of the 20th century.
You can see that there are paintings on the wall beside the stairs to the right of the church. Up just a little way past there were some interesting wall murals, and we decided we'd juuust walk that far and take some pictures. We started walking, but two women, coming up in the direction we'd just come, called to us and came hurrying our way.
I didn't understand what they were saying at first--and they recognized that I couldn't, but they persisted anyway; they didn't give up. I finally understood that they were asking if we were sightseeing, and I said yes. Like the man on the path, they said it was too dangerous. Safe as far as the church, but no further. Wakanomori recalls, though I don't (maybe because I was struggling to understand and respond to the words), that the woman drew her hand across her throat, miming death. Point taken! We thanked them and went back the way we came.
I was really grateful that people looked out for us in that way.
**What I remember is "No ven por aquí," but when I check online, that seems to be grammatically wrong so ... I'm putting in what the internet says is right.
Once was when we started up a path into the hills, thinking vaguely that it might get us up Cerro de Monserrate, a mountain that's a pilgrimage site and from which you can see all of Bogotá. I wasn't super keen on being along on a trail in the hills, but Wakanomori pointed out that there was a grandfatherly-aged man up ahead of us, with a child, and that so long as there were other people around, we'd be fine.
We hadn't taken more than two steps on the path when the grandfather turned around and came up to us. "No vengas por aquí,"** he said. "Es peligroso." Don't come here; it's dangerous.
I don't know whether he meant the path itself was dangerous--like there were steep drops or something--or that there might be other sorts of trouble, but we didn't argue. We just said thank you and that we'd turn around. We took the cable car up Monserrate instead. It was magnificent.
cable car going up
view from the top
The other time was when we went to see the church that's right at the edge of the Egipto neighborhood, which has a fair amount of gang violence. (Basically, as you go south from Bogotá and up the sides of the hills, things become more precarious.) We walked up the steep streets (not yet in Egipto)...
... and came to the church (there are many, many beautiful churches in Bogotá). It was begun in 1556 and finished in 1657, but the present look is due in large part to modifications at the start of the 20th century.
You can see that there are paintings on the wall beside the stairs to the right of the church. Up just a little way past there were some interesting wall murals, and we decided we'd juuust walk that far and take some pictures. We started walking, but two women, coming up in the direction we'd just come, called to us and came hurrying our way.
I didn't understand what they were saying at first--and they recognized that I couldn't, but they persisted anyway; they didn't give up. I finally understood that they were asking if we were sightseeing, and I said yes. Like the man on the path, they said it was too dangerous. Safe as far as the church, but no further. Wakanomori recalls, though I don't (maybe because I was struggling to understand and respond to the words), that the woman drew her hand across her throat, miming death. Point taken! We thanked them and went back the way we came.
I was really grateful that people looked out for us in that way.
**What I remember is "No ven por aquí," but when I check online, that seems to be grammatically wrong so ... I'm putting in what the internet says is right.
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I am glad that you met people who were kind.
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It's taken a long time to post this entry. I nearly didn't last night, either. I've been (like most people I know) oppressed by the news, had my mind in a vice that won't let me think about much else. There's a not insignificant amount of self-loathing that goes along with all that, as all the people saying "If you ever wondered what you'd do in Nazi Germany... now you know" have made me pretty aware that what I would have done is only slightly north of F-all. My stories from my trip feel stale in my head, are a product of privilege, and seem irrelevant and escapist.
But mental incapacity and self loathing, not to mention obsession, are pretty useless states, and some part of me believes it's not pointless to talk about people going out of their way to be thoughtful, even if (especially if? I don't know) it's people in a rough neighborhood being kind to clueless tourists.
... This is both an apology and an apologia for this post. I know you didn't ask for either; I just am latching onto your comment as an excuse to explain. Maybe this comment is what I should have posted, but then I wouldn't have had an excuse to put in photos.
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You are continuing the high-cost justice work you do by teaching at the jail, and you are going to protests, and I bet you are doing more. I value, esteem, and love you, and wish I were doing so much.
(And, separately, I have guilt problems, too, but I am finite.)
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Argh.
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Maybe you could post this comment as its own entry, too? I think a lot of people must be feeling like this and just knowing that we're all feeling like that together might make it easier for us to do the things that we can do, however ineffectual they feel.
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