Earthset From Bang Phlat | Bangkok Thailand | Young
"To feel the world, to know the world, to connect to the world in a way that resonates in yourself and in others, you must first choose to SEE the world... only then will perspective shift and elcosion begin." -Young
Featured Travelogue:
BORN AGAIN IN MEDELLÍN
Photographed and Written in
Medellín, Colombia, South America
Poems For Sale | Series: EN MEDELLÍN | Medellín Colombia | Young
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Born Again In Medellín Day 1
New Babylon | Medellin Colombia | Robert Young | ©2018
An irritating scratch in my throat spelled trouble. It began as I was in between connecting flights while taking an impromptu stop-over in Fort Lauderdale. My trek to see the beach was surprisingly uninspiring.
Only now has the irony dawned on me; the plane that would deliver me to my final destination to reignite my life, Flight 41 was also a number that nearly ended it. It represented the 41 Nations and Territories that were celebrated in the largest installation of my work to that date. The same work whose opening reception lifted me to the greatest triumph of my life as it fell on my mother's birthday. She would suddenly and unexpectedly would fall asleep never to awaken again exactly 14 days later.
Now, nearly three years later, as I sit in my rented accommodations staring out into the mountainside and streets of Medellin I wonder what it means to have been brought to Colombia on Flight 41 just a few short days before my mother's birthday. It seems there are no coincidences in the universe. I guess that is what I'm here to discover; what do they mean, if anything at all.
As the sun continues to rise and gently begins to warm my face I recall what ignited me to write at 7-am this morning. Arriving at the airport at night, I met my driver who quickly explained his "English is very little". I quickly replied, "my Spanish is even less". He chuckled politely and our 45-minute drive into the city began. Despite an unusually anxious few days leading up to the trip, now driving through the countryside, I felt settled and comfortable. Arriving at night left me at a disadvantage, preventing me from experiencing the awe and wonder I had come to expect from arriving in a new land.
At one point my driver pointed off into the darkness and spoke with pride in his voice, "look, Medellin". The lights throughout the dark mountainside teased at a glorious view that would certainly arrive by daybreak.
The driver did not speak much throughout the ride but the next time he did his words were less prideful and concerning; "This place not safe. Do not come, day or night." I looked around and the environment and then looked down at my phone only to see the GPS which said I was a mere 3 minutes from my location. I chose not to give it too much thought. After all, what exactly was I going to do about it now. Moments later we arrived at the building that would be my home for the next 32 days.
The security guard met me at the gate of the building, handed me the keys, and promptly directed me to the apartment, all in Spanish. I nod my head as if I understood and entered the elevator.
I stepped off the elevator into a cramped hallway on the 27th floor and after a brief struggle with the lock, I managed to get the door open and immediately began my neurotic examination of my new space. After hanging a few things and placing a mattress cover on the bed, I finally laid my head down. By then the sore throat was becoming unbearable and with only 2 hours left till sunrise, I doubted I would catch my first day in Medellin at the crack of dawn. I shut off my alarm and just let go of the idea and restlessly went to sleep.
By morning I was grateful I left the curtains open. In the light of day, I could see the vastness of my surroundings. Sky-rises, intermixed with small buildings, narrow streets, and graffitied walls, all stood in the shadow of an ominous mountain. Fog like clouds draped the upper layer of the skyline protecting me from the soon to be raging sun. It was a sight that I could feel would be awe-inspiring at any other time, except, the soreness in my throat. It wasn't so much that I was sick but that the sickness became the catalyst for the quickly deteriorating state of mind led by the question of why; why would I get sick now, on the first day of this oh so important trip? Then it dawned on me, much like the new day brought light upon the dark city; It is Sunday, the day of rest and had I arrived in Medellin in any state other than this, I would have missed the point. I am here to rebuild the machine that is my spirit and it does not begin with expressions of joy but in the reconfiguration of the management of despair. It is only fitting that I am now sick. Yet still, I write.
Welcome to day 1; Born Again In Medellin.
Shadowed Light | Medellin Colombia | Robert Young | ©2018
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Born Again In Medellín Day 2
Between Worlds | Medellin, Colombia | Robert Young
There is something about a temporary illness that just never feels so temporary. Managing my sore throat on a Sunday produced a bit of a battle in my mind. On one hand, I wanted to stick to my plan and get up and out and photograph Medellin but as the view from my open window provided the opportunity to execute that errand from inside, the need to get out wasn't so pressing. So, I gave into the idea of resting. All the while I kept thinking I was being lazy.
By 3 o'clock in the afternoon, I just couldn't take laying still anymore so I decided to take a walk to the supermarket to see if I could pick up a few things to cook for the week. As I stepped out of the elevator and made my way to the building exit, there was the security guard leaning on the door. As I approached I greeted him, "Hola". He nodded his head in response. I then asked him where the nearest grocery store is, in English of course. His reaction was interesting. He clearly didn't understand what I was saying but rather than look confused by it, he simply looked at me like I was crazy. It was a look that said, "Hey buddy, you're in Colombia, speak Spanish." This being my first day out on the streets of Medellin I quickly realized getting what I need may not be as easy as I thought it would be.
I used to ask my Mom what I was like when I was a kid. She would say, "Well son, one thing is for sure, you always wanted to be understood. Even if you had to explain yourself a thousand times in a thousand different ways, your goal was always to be understood." Hmmmm. Interesting.
Eventually, the security guard recognized the word supermarket and pointed me in a direction off into the distance. I said gracias like I knew what he was talking about and just began walking, still having no idea where I needed to go.
When I got to the corner, I looked in all directions but in trying my best not to look too much like a tourist I quickly turned right. Walking down the street, I reveled in the irony of my current situation. In my mission to take a journey to get away so I may take some time out to enter into the chrysalis, break down my conscience, and rebuild my essence, I chose a place where one of my most fundamental needs cannot easily be met. No one can understand a word I am saying. The solace I have chosen is no longer a choice. Remarkable.
In hindsight and despite the difficulty and discomfort ahead, I cannot think of a better way to learn a new way to communicate honestly and intimately than to strip away the convenience of language.
It wasn't until I got back to my accommodations that I recognized the gravity of the level of courage it takes for one to leave their homeland to come to a place where no one understands them at all. Their only desire is to attempt to begin again, take a chance, start a new life, and attempt to change their stars. In this dream for rebirth, we are akin.
I am still sick though. This damn scratchy throat is closing in on me so I continued wandering around the streets in search for a store to buy some tea, some fruit, some food.
At the next turn, there was a long road devoid of cars with two sets of tracks. A modern and sleek white train lay dormant at a stop amidst a slew of pedestrians going about their day. It was an interesting futuristic sight to see juxtaposed against the older buildings and the epic mountains in the distance.
Mural By R.A.R.O | Medellin, Colombia | Image by Young
My eye caught a glance of a familiar painting on the wall. Later I realized it was a piece I had spotted from the window of my accommodations. It was striking from 27 stories up and it was certainly striking up close. As I thought I was out for a short stroll to the corner grocery and back, I didn't have my camera with me, so my phone would have to do. Moving along the wall, I got caught up in my own world reframing and looking for interesting angles as I photographed the mural.
Suddenly my instincts, or should I say my nose, told me to look down. A fresh pile of feces nearly made its acquaintance with my new white running shoes. It would not have been a pretty site, the guy who speaks no Spanish in the heart of Medellin trying to find help to get smelly crap off of his shoes. Glad I dodged that one. Moments earlier a guy on a scooter whizzed right by me as I crossed a small side street. It was as if he was trying to warn me to look where I was going. These two near accidents were enough to wake me from my curious creative coma and I once again became alert and aware of my surroundings.
Sometimes bold and at other times subtle, the creativity was astounding on the street. The mix of culture, architecture, and art, and the buzz of human activity would usually have me on an emotional high but my mood was still being dampened by my sore throat and the discomfort of not being able to communicate with anyone.
Mural by LeDania | Medellin, Colombia | Image by Young
Then I was struck by a vision as I passed an epic church nestled in between street food vendors, sneaker stores and smoothie shops. While taking in the massive structure I could see people in everyday clothes standing out front. Then my eyes caught a woman who at first seemed to look as if she had caught the holy spirit but then I could hear her cries. They were not of relief that comes when one finds God but of the grief expressed when one loses a loved one. I know it, as all human beings do, all too well. She was inconsolable and in her pain, and as I realized the truth of what I was seeing the veil was removed from my eyes as I was suddenly able to see the expressions of the many in the crowd who were all focused on her and clearly feeling her pain. The sound of her voice reframed the view from my rose-colored glasses and for some reason, I immediately thought of all the tears that have been cried over spilled blood in the region. At that moment, I couldn't feel my sore throat. I could only feel.
I later entered the church but fought my urge to photograph the beauty I witnessed as I entered inside. People began to enter for Sunday night mass and their statures were simply dwarfed by the height of the painstakingly built white ceiling draped with massive hanging crystal chandeliers that hung down the center. The sides were dressed by painted depictions of the crucifixion of Christ all held in magnificent carved golden frames. Not many can do pic luxury like the church. It was a sight to behold.
As I walked back to my place I kept remembering the driver the night before telling me that a nearby neighborhood was somewhere I shouldn't go, ever. In the heart of the afternoon, I had no idea whether I was in the neighborhood or not. Nonetheless I wanted a change of scenery so I cut back through some side streets, following my instincts with a little help from my phone's GPS, to find my way to my apartment.
After making a long circle around the neighborhood I arrived back at the entryway to my building. Though my walk had produced an interesting experience, I still felt as if I failed in my mission to get something to soothe my throat. I had returned empty-handed. I decided to give it one more shot and see if I could find the store the security guard originally tried to direct me to. So I walked back down the street but this time I passed over the intersection and kept going until voila, there it was. A mere 30 steps from where I had prematurely turned right just hours before stood the best-looking grocery store I had seen all day. It had an incredible selection of fresh fruit, a pharmacy, a butcher, literally everything I need for my entire month stay. The only problem was that their credit machine was down. No problemo, it will be working mañana.
As I left the store I saw a little pizzeria on the corner. So I decided to try my luck at communicating to get some food. The waitress was kind. She seemed sorry for me almost and showed me compassion as I fiddled through a translation app on my phone to ask if she could make me a personal pizza with my favorite toppings. She understood, took my order, and I sat down to await my meal.
Pineapple Delight | Medellin, Colombia | Young
When the food came I took in yet another irony as I partook in this Italian dish while sitting in a restaurant in the heart of Colombia. As I was enjoying the food I thought about what a difference that last effort to find the grocery store made on how I was feeling. It changed and uplifted my spirit so greatly. My imaginary rose-coloured glasses were back on and I was having a blast gazing around the store, looking at all the signs in Spanish on the colourful soda bottles in the fridge and out the window on the businesses across the street. I marvelled at how much I missed experiencing something different. As I took another bite of my thin crusted pizza, adorned with my chosen toppings, as well as some delicious greenish red tomato slices, something else caught my eye. As I looked up from my seat, perfectly in my line of vision, atop a stand across the room there were three dark blocks with words written on them in English. They stood out in such beautiful contrast against the white walls and the Spanish words I had seen and heard all day long. On them were written three distinct phrases, "Truth is my energy. Allow peace in my life. Be yourself, everyone else is taken."
Day 2; Born Again In Medellin.
Blocks Of Wisdom | Medellin, Colombia | Young
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Born Again In Medellín Day 3
Sky Dreaming | Medellin Colombia | Robert Young
It is only once that you have woken up, do you realize that you have been sleeping.
Seated with 5 other people, 1 colleague and 4 strangers, together we dangled thousands of feet above Medellin. This is the moment I awoke in Colombia.
Hours earlier, I awoke, physically, in a miserable state. I kept thinking that one day I’ll have to research why you feel so much worse at night when you are dealing with a cold. Or better yet, how about I just never get sick again. Regardless, I got up to write about the day prior and it was a welcome creative distraction.
But upon the completion of my writing, the sickness took over once again and I wanted to nothing but sit still. All the while, the sprawling metropolis of Medellin lay before me just outside my window like a gift ready to be opened and explored.
Luckily I had made an appointment to meet with an expat who recently moved to Medellin from Canada. After expressing to him how surprised I was about the level of difficulties tied to my lack of Spanish vocabulary and comprehension, he invited me to lunch at a tavern not too far from my accommodations.
I had walked passed Mercado del Tranvia the day before. I remembered it because of the loud roar of people reacting to a world cup game being played, and it wasn’t even the Colombian team. Side note, that game is today. Can’t wait. But I digress. As I entered the place I quickly realized it was a simple but brilliant concept. It appeared to be one large restaurant from outside but housed within were dozens of smaller independent restaurants that all used one common eating space. From burgers to Colombian paella, coffee to hard liquor, this was a place where you could definitely find something to satisfy your palate. It was like a mini food court filled with culture and dressed with flags from around the world hanging from the ceiling.
Andre’ arrived. He was a pleasant, unassuming man and as our lunch meeting got into full swing I could see he was somewhat of a historian and researcher. I often find, that visitors to a new land have a keen sense of their surroundings and if they are even just a little adventurous they can often provide information for you that would surprise even the most knowledgeable local. Andre’ was a man who contained within him a great wealth of knowledge about many things but it was evident Medellin was one of his favourite subjects. More than information, behind his words you could feel a love for his new home and the people that make it special.
At the conclusion of our meal, I mentioned to Andre’ that I needed to get my hands on some pesos. Unlike many of the other countries in the world that I have visited, Colombian businesses did not take American currency. With nothing but U.S. cash and a credit card in my pocket, I found myself without a means to buy something as simple as some cough medicine. I was determined to resolve that and Andre’ offered to assist. But Andre’ saw that I had a need much greater than pesos, but rather a need to be awoken to Colombia. He suggested I go and get my camera and that we take a little trip.
Backpack in tow Andre’ and I got on the public transit. The train was cleaner, sleeker, and newer than any I had ever been on anywhere in the world, North America included. We travelled to the end of the line, walked off the train and on to a platform that had small pods that were hanging from a rope and being channelled through a track as people got on board. It looked like an amusement park ride but this marvel in technology was so much more than that. This was the Medellin MetroCable, a means of transportation constructed to give the communities who live in the, often hard to reach elevated regions, a means for reliable transportation to get into the city, to earn a living, to live a life.
Dangling From A String | Medellin Colombia | Robert Young
Andre’ and I entered the little box hanging from a wire. There was already a family inside. As the box bumped and shifted its way through the channel, much like a roller coaster climbing to its peak, the woman diagonally across from me began to share a most nervous smile as the rest of her face was covered in sheer panic. And then suddenly “woosh”, we were whisked out into the open air climbing rapidly into the sky. I looked back, the station quickly being left behind, and then, right there in that moment, there was no fear, no worry, no concern. All the travel advisories warning me not to come to Colombia were gone, my sore throat had disappeared. Suddenly, I was awake.
A Sea Of Rooftops | Medellin, Colombia | Robert Young
Quickly I rushed to grab my camera out of my bag and what followed were a few shots and a lot of conversation but mostly I remained in awe. As I looked out over the homes that were literally stacked on top of one another I could see the truth behind one of mans greatest needs; the need for shelter. No matter how big or how small, or how glorious or how humble the need for one’s own domicile is undeniable. This thought hit home as we hovered high above Medellin. I had always wondered why I felt so lost while in between moves but in this moment, looking down over the hundreds of thousands of rooftops, it all made sense.
A change came over me and it was reflected in the balance of my day. On the train ride back into the city, I couldn’t stop expressing my appreciation to Andre for taking me on this excursion. He explained that in his retirement having the opportunity to share this beautiful city with people gives him joy. He went on to say the look on my face when we went up in the MetroCable was all the payment he needed.
What a wonder it is to be grown and still be able to be surprised and lifted up in a moment of joy like as if we were a child again. In this case, both the giver and the receiver gained a remarkable experience.
The day did not stop there, as we headed off to the mall to get my pesos and cough medicine. On the way there we were bombarded by an assortment of sights. I felt like a blind man seeing colour for the first time. Everything was vibrant and within my grasp. It was better, richer, brighter than it had been before.
As we arrived at the station I was drawn to words once again. This time huge black letters were painted on a vast white wall. They simply read “Alimenta La Mente” meaning, Feed The Mind. That is exactly what I came to Medellin to do.
Born Again In Medellin: Day 3
Free The Mind | Medellin, Colombia | Robert Young
3 more days to come....stay tuned.
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