though I'm Bogotá. Although Bogota am, I have lived here almost 10 years, and this city became my place. It is the breath and the environment where I learned to admire after say a thousand times in this madness ever live. But at some point Bogota stopped be crazy, and I think for a few moments his automatons walkers stopped for a bit and started to look at last. It was a pretty Bogotá, bicycle path and cars stopped behind the zebra.
But that, as say, there's nothing left. Holes, anger, endless traffic jams, detours, whistles, people walking without looking, calling, cars close, aggression. Ribbons and yellow ribbons along the streets, which indicate that Bogota is under construction. No. Bogotá is destruction. Is destroyed with each excavation no budget is done. Returned in time with each delay in each of his works. Is losing its culture and identity, as it grows its hysteria.
This morning I went to the airport, the gateway to the city and indeed the country. A maze of detours and broken streets, to finally reach a terminal in which to try Zebra crossing with a suitcase can become suicidal. Everything is broken, everything is dirty, everything is messy. I left with the feeling of having stepped back in time and civility and beauty.
He gave me a huge despite seeing the city in such ruins.
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