La Libertad

Part 3 of 5

Many years ago, I attended a workshop in Portland led by a Unitarian minister. I’ve long since forgotten the details, but there was one point that remains with me to this day - the distinction between “freedom from” and “freedom to”. I have thought of this often during my time in Colombia. 

In a prior post, I mentioned a little about my experience with transportation. The process of getting from Point A to B can take many forms, but regardless of the mode, the people enjoy their freedom to travel in any manner they wish. As an example, I recently joined fellow travelers for a pub crawl… on horseback! Technically it’s illegal, but it’s also commonplace in the Pueblo Patrimonio (Cultural Heritage) town of Jericó, and I couldn’t resist the opportunity. As we trotted down the mix of concrete and cobblestone streets, I was more concerned about falling off my horse than getting pulled over by la policía. Cars and motos (oversized dirt bikes) swerved around us. The locals stared at us from open windows, front porches, storefronts, and sidewalks - not because of the horses, but because of the gringos who were in the saddle.

I’m sure “Rules of the Road” exist somewhere in a Colombian driver’s ed manual. I’m equally certain these rules are rarely followed or enforced. I’ve concluded that the only obvious rule is “don’t die.” Motos ride on sidewalks and weave in between cars, curbs, and fellow Colombians. Lanes are defined not by paint stripes, but rather by the allowable space necessary for one vehicle to pass another with a few centimeters of clearance. What we in The States consider reckless “tail-gating” is an acceptable practice because, well, nature abhors a vacuum. You fall farther behind as the space you’ve created is filled by someone else. 

The same freedom applies to pedestrians in a way that I find difficult to emulate. I’m larger than most of the locals, but I can’t compete in a game of chicken with them on the sidewalk. I’m discomfited by their inclination to walk right through me, forcing me to sashay at the last second to avoid a collision. Sometimes I’m annoyed when I have to step off the curb and into the street to let a passerby plow forward undeterred. And I’m not the only one who’s experienced this phenomenon. Google it. But I try to avoid the hasty accusation of some who claim Colombians are just rude. While I’m not an historian, nor a behavioral psychologist, I have a theory that draws from both disciplines, so bear with me as I establish my premise.

South America’s recorded history begins at the end of the 15th century when Spain and Portugal invaded the continent to extract the land’s wealth and exploit the indigenous people. The Muiscas, for example, lived near the present-day capital of Bogotá. They were nearly wiped out by European disease, slavery, war, and assimilation. Colombians as a whole suffered under colonial rule for three centuries until they finally won their independence in the early 1800s. Fast-forward to the middle of the 20th century. I saw the plaque in Bogotá that honors liberal political leader Jorge Eliécer Gaitán whose assassination in 1948 is believed to have ignited La Violencia - nearly six decades of brutal conflict between the left-wing guerillas and the right-wing, government-backed paramilitary. Over 200,000 people lost their lives, most of whom were peasant farmers. The notorious drug cartel leader Pablo Escobar rose to power during this time. His story was told in the popular series Narcos, something my family and friends pointed outwhen they learned I would begin my trip in Escobar’s home city of Medellín. 

I just distilled five hundred years of complicated history into one paragraph. I’m sorry, and you’re welcome. Couple this with what I’ve learned about “epigenetic trauma” expressed in the genes that are passed from generation to generation. From a 2022 Scientific American article by Professor Rachel Yehuda: “Epigenetics potentially explains why effects of trauma may endure long after the immediate threat is gone, and it is also implicated in the diverse pathways by which trauma is transmitted to future generations.” That’s a mouthful. In short, trauma can lead to chronic stress, and anyone who’s experienced stress knows it’s difficult to focus on anything else. It creates a kind of tunnel vision that obscures all other surroundings.

I hope you’ll forgive the non-scienctific leap that begs the question: is it so far-fetched to think that the people I’ve encountered carry a collective burden deep within their psyche, the aftermath of centuries of exploitation, subjugation, and violence? Might this underlying burden be subtly revealed in the mundane, in such ordinary activities as sharing a sidewalk or driving a car? It seems the Colombians deserve to be free from judgment and given the benefit of the doubt. I will continue to step aside.