Sunday in Medellin
When you drop a 200 Peso coin into the offertory box at the old white church near Botero Plaza in downtown Medellin, a miniature yellow bulb will illuminate beneath one of the faux candles in the quiet display. It works differently in the Mission church at San Juan Bautista, California. At the Mission you must first drop a copper into the box and then use a match to light a single candle.
I’m not sure which approach I prefer. In San Juan Bautista, I ponder the staid traditions handed down religiously through generations. In Medellin, I wonder why the Paisas go their own way.
On Sunday, transportation officials partition four lane roads into two lanes for cars and two lanes for bicycles. Bikers climb through the financial district on Poblado Avenue, and then stop for fresh cut mangoes while mechanics repair cycles along the side of the street. It takes patience and a keen eye to spot the green and yellow parrots flying overhead in peaceful Medellin. Professional bikers opt for the screaming Andes mountain trails waiting just outside of town.
Workers in trimmed white uniforms polish the silver metal doors of electrical panels while you sit in the Medellin metro stations. But you never get a chance to watch them for very long, as the trains buzz through every five minutes or so. This trains running on time idea might really catch on some day.
Smiling faces greet awkward visitors at every turn through the barrios. It’s safe, serene and ahead of the times here.
April 28th, 2009 at 10:15 pm
[...] hair pulled back in a ponytail, hands constantly in motion. Cleanliness seems to be an obsession in Medellin. I feel curiously obliged to leave a gum wrapper behind on a bench [...]