Friends always ask if Colombia is safe. To me, it has been very safe. Thats not to say I have not come up against reminders that my own naivete could possibly result in me becoming a crime victim. My first encounter with the police was in Candelaria. I was sporting a backpack that screamed GRINGA TOURIST and had a camera around my neck -- two things the embassy security briefing tells people NOT to do. If you do, you risk being a robbery target. So two passing police officers stopped me, advised me to put the camera up and wear my backpack on my front to protect my belongings. The second encounter was on a Cartagena beach -- far from the conventional tourist zone -- I was walking alone, shooting photos. Police stopped me and told me the beach was a little bit dangerous for me. I was then photographed (apparently for my future mug shot) and told to be careful to put the camera away or I might be robbed. And another time in downtown Bogota a private security guard saw I had a camera and told me I should be careful. Then last weekend on Isla San Andreas a friend and I had rented a golf cart -- a common vehicle for tourists to use to cruise around downtown. We did the unconventional and decided that since it was a nice night, wed cruise the 17 miles around the island. We waited for the lights to change at intersections next to dozens of people on motor scooters, trying to rev the golf cart engine to race them. The night was warm and beautiful as we cruised along the sea as the feathered branches of palms rustled in the breeze. The houses we passed at first were stately with armed guards and soldiers out front. The guards stared at us as we passed. Then the road grew narrower, the houses fewer and poorer. Families sitting steps of makeshift shanties looked stunned as we passed -- two Gringos in a golf cart at 11 p.m. puttering down the rutted road well out of the tourist district. Suddenly, a man on a motorcycle pulled up next to us. He told us not to continue farther down the road because there were robbers ahead. He said to turn left at the next road and go up the hill. Go back or go forward with a stranger? Its shorter this way, he said. He told us to follow him, refusing to accept payment because he works for God. We followed the red-eye of the taillight through the dark. It began to rain hard. The road up the hill was narrow, banked with trees and I wondered if we made the right choice. I took out my passport and hid it under my shirt. Thieves could have everything else. Gradually, the road descended into familiar sights. And then as rain continued to pour, he stopped by a cross alongside the road. It was only feet from our hotel. I got out and tucked a few bills into his shirt pocket. He tried to refuse but I told him to give it to anyone in need. I never got his name. When people ask if Colombia or any country is safe I have to answer this way: safety is determined somewhat by personal choices. Im usually more cautious than I was that night in San Andreas. When I travel, I try to blend in, forgo the backpack, jeans and running shoes Id wear at home and dress like the locals; behave like the locals. Where safety is concerned, the most significant factor is ones relationship with others. I believe that respect, love and kindness begets the same. Where it prevails, so will safety.
Posted on: Thu, 20 Nov 2014 05:19:42 +0000
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