Perhaps it’s because I had heard so much about Communa 13, and had high expectations, that the disappointment was so tangy. Like a teenager dumped by her first love when it all seemed to be going so well didn’t it? Didn’t it??!!  The questioning and self-reflection takes a bit of squaring, ’cause resolution is definitely needed here. No one likes an immovable ear worm. Can’t see where this is going? Bear with me.

It started so well

Venturing onto Medellin’s metro system for the first time brought with it a surprising low rumble of anxiety. Not sure why. I mean, I’ve been on plenty. London, Paris, New York, Budapest, blah bloody blah. Maybe it’s an age thing, when once I’d glance at a wall map then stride through pedestrian tunnels and over bridges to be at the right platform in the right direction without breaking a sweat. Now it’s all, internet over-research, making sure I know just what to (try to) say at the ticket booth, which line I need to where, how long it should take etc. etc. etc. Then there’s the “S” word.. safety. With every piece of advice saying get cabs, don’t walk anywhere, be careful of your things. It all adds to the annoying background noise.

Of course, it was a breeze. I mean there’s only 2 lines after all. The whole construction project is less than 30 years old and forms a big part of public investment to bring “paisas” (Medellin locals) from the surrounding barrios into the heart of the city, to be part of the city rather than being ignored and marginalised. The project has included ski resort type gondalas flying high over existing neighbourhoods and beating the small congested roads on the hillsides. It’s brilliant.

I walked straight up to the ticket counter with my pre-prepared request, hoping to god she didn’t ask me any questions (sooner or later these brain-exploding Spanish lessons I’ve been thrashing at all week better kick in!). I needn’t have worried, as I approached the front of the short queue a smartly uniformed young lad on my right edged his way closer towards me so he was within earshot. Then I caught sight of the oversized round badge pinned to his chest “I speak – ENGLISH – happy to help!” Fantastic! The metro system employs people just to wait around to help idiots like me.

But I didn’t need his excellent help, oh no, I smashed the basic ticket buying task myself like a real champ! Though to be fair it is about the cheapest and easiest system I’ve come across. Step 1 buy a tourist transit card (<£2). Step 2 tell them how much credit you want on it (about £1 a ride to anywhere on the network). And welcome to possibly the world’s cleanest, safest and most efficient metro system.

Communa 13

So, the blurb goes that Communa 13 is a living example of a poor community pulling together to overcome the tyranny of extreme violence, narco extortion and decades of state neglect to produce something different and better. Community arts, dancing, rapping, graffiti, better schools, new public sports facilities are all heralded as parts of the success story. So far, so inspiring.

And the first part of my guided group tour – led by locals, free, but £10 tip expected – covered this well. The schools look like nothing I’ve ever seen before. There’s a community library and sure enough the astro football pitch is excellent. There’s also a sense that it really is a decent community place. Not sure how you measure that, but it seems a lot less edgy than some of the poorer places I’ve been to already. The performance by the young local dance troupe seems a bit contrived but it’s practice I guess and earns them a few quid to help pay for kit etc. I’m sure there are genuine success stories here and the guide does his best (in between some very sketchy right wing political rambles) to tell us how much of a change the community has seen.

Then the start of the main area that attracts the many, many visitors. This is signalled by the publicly installed outdoor escalators (another part of the linked transport investment). But oh dear. I thought there’d be a little entrance of what I customarily call “tourist hell” and we’d be through to the actual bit. But no. There’s another steep hill of this, and another and another. When you get to the very top you can turn left or right depending on what you prefer. As long as what you prefer is exactly the same as what you saw when you started at the bottom of the hill. Every major visitor city and attraction in the world has them. Think: fridge magnets, larey misspelled t-shirts, cheap sunglasses, baseball caps, sun hats, kiss-me-quick hats, novelties with every kid’s name on them, Bob Marley t-shirts, dope leaf t-shirts, counterfeit football tops.. need I go on?

I’d heard the area was great for street art, music, dancers, cool bars food etc… OK, OK, there is maybe a little bit of that, and I mean a little bit, but honestly the “tourist hell” IS the actual thing. There are quite a few pop-up type drinking and eating venues of the loud, tacky, low quality, low choice variety if that’s your thing. There are also “art galleries” of mass produced prints which fit right in to the style I’ve already described. On top of all that – and this being the self-obsessed it’s all about me age in which we now live – there are some bizarre backdrops for the posers and the pouters. Of course the ubiquitous angel wings and Communa 13 neon, but add to that a little fake ballon ride, a Rio Jesus and a King Kong (of course there is). Why not push the boat out and pay for a drone to zoom out while filming you and your pouting mates? Every square inch of roof top has its own little schtick. And that’s it. I barely spotted any street art whatsoever. Even the usually good music booming from everywhere had turned crap and poppy. As I legged it back out of there I saw some street art that was covered up by all the baseball cap stands, that about summed it up. Maybe at first, before the hell moved in, it was something interesting.

Why? I mean really… why?

The guide was gushing about how the ever increasing number of visitors had given local youths a new career path away from the gangs. Now they can be.. errr tour guides? Sellers of Chinese plastic shit? Hustlers for a couple of tourist dollars? Shouters in the street? Holders of laminated picture menus? Sitters on plastic stools all day in case someone decides they really want that 50p item from your stall not the previous 71 identical stalls already passed. Stay in school kids! Is this how trickle-down capitalism is supposed to work? Gee thanks. The future looks awesome!

I pondered.

Easy for me to say I suppose. If you have absolutely nothing, then maybe that £3 a day job is the difference between food on the table or not. Maybe it’s still worth adding identical stall number 72. I looked around and the crowds are crowds. People are actually there laughing and having fun. And they’re 95% South Americans (or South American looking at least). It’s not the gringo dollar that’s floating the place. Maybe they like the cheap and gaudy. Maybe they don’t care if the street art is pretty average, or absent. Maybe they like their insta…? Maybe this is their local Blackpool or Skeggy? No harm in that.

So to square the circle in my head. I’ve resigned myself to say thank you Communa13 your community stuff looks great. The other stuff….I’ll leave it thanks…I shan’t be back.

But it’s not you, it’s me.