[Second Opinion] Colombia beyond the drug wars

One of Fernando Botero's sculptures in Medellin (Photo by the author)

by Gideon Lasco
Philippine Daily Inquirer

BOGOTÁ, COLOMBIA — Colombians have a reputation for being friendly, and even before my plane touched down in Bogotá’s El Dorado airport, I was convinced of it. My seatmate, upon discovering that it would be my first time in Colombia, took it upon himself to furnish information about his country. “We have mountains, beaches, historic towns,” he began, listing the attractions of a country that is all at once Pacific and Caribbean, Andean and Amazonian.

“A lot has changed from the 2000s. It’s now completely different,” he said, adding: “For the first time, there is a middle class. Did you know that Colombia is South America’s third largest economy?”

It did not take long for me to experience the middle-class Bogota of which he spoke. The bike lanes, the chic centro comerciales, the well-manicured parques, the branches of Juan Valdez Café with fast internet: All of them hint of an economy that has grown—at least for some segments of the population.

“It’s an exciting time to be in Colombia,” Daniel Buritica, a social entrepreneur, told me, confirming my impressions. “Young people are not bound by old ways of thinking, and are looking ahead.” Last year, Buritica organized a summer camp where he brought together former FARC rebels, paramilitaries, and victims—an attempt to heal the wounds of the conflict. I could sense that his emotions over the conflict run deep, but so is his optimism for the future.

The tension between trying to move on and remembering the past is more palpable in Medellin, a charming highland city where the mere mention of the name Pablo Escobar can still offend locals. For many, he is best relegated to oblivion—not notoriety—even as some continue to view him as a Robin Hood who built football stadiums and helped the poor.

Equally a source of discomfort is a discussion of Colombia’s recent history—and today’s divisive politics. One major point of contention is how to deal with the FARC: A referendum last year was defeated by a hair, but President Juan Manuel Santos has persisted with a fragile peace deal. Meanwhile, Alvaro Uribe, the iron-fisted ex-president, wants a tougher stance. He remains popular, and many are convinced of his view that Colombia is becoming the next Venezuela. As in the Philippines, social media is rife with fake news.

Perhaps the only thing that can rival politics in provoking people’s passions is football, but it is nowhere near as polarizing. While cities contest their La Liga with ferocious intensity, a national football team—currently ranked by Fida as fifth in the world—brings them together, and the likes of James Rodriguez and Radamel Falcao are sources of pride.

Visiting Colombia’s museums and reading its critical histories, one can find its history of colonization and exploitation depressing; even the distinctive art of Fernando Botero cannot hide the violencia of the past, both remote and recent. Atop Bogota’s Montserrate or aboard Medellin’s cable cars, one cannot deny the visible and enduring social disparities.

On the other hand, one can just as easily see an ebullient side to Colombia, one whose anthems are the upbeat songs of Shakira and Carlos Vives. The people I meet fall somewhere in between, like the petroleum engineer in Bogotá who works part time as an Uber driver, or the tour guide in Aracataca who cannot forgive Steve Harvey for mistakenly announcing his compatriot Ariadna Gutiérrez as Miss Universe 2015. As travelers, I guess we must recognize the complexity of each country we visit if we are to truly learn from it and form a balanced, even if incomplete, view of what it’s all about.

I will leave Colombia with much fondness, and not just because of its beauty or the warmth of its people. Like my beloved Filipinas, this is a country that is misunderstood by the outside world, and one that has been forced into a history not of its choosing. But somehow, it is pulling itself through, which gives me hope that we, too—despite our many contradictions and flaws—can overcome the struggles in our side of the Pacific.

As I learned in my trip, we are only an ocean apart.

Originally published in the Philippine Daily Inquirer: http://opinion.inquirer.net/105203/colombia-beyond-drug-wars

[Second Opinion] Following the footsteps of Rizal in Europe

The author at Rizal Park in Madrid

by Gideon Lasco
Philippine Daily Inquirer

MADRID, SPAIN—The restaurant Viva Madrid, where Jose Rizal and his fellow ilustrados used to hang out, is still open on Calle Fernandez y Gonzales; it was founded in 1861 (incidentally the year our national hero was born). The dinner there—tapas y vino tinto—was a fitting end to a day of retracing Rizal’s legacy in the Spanish capital. That afternoon I visited Rizal Park, which looks very similar to our own in Luneta—but with the advantage of not having a Torre de Manila behind it.
As a graduate student at the University of Amsterdam, I made it my “side quest” to follow Rizal’s footsteps in the continent where he, too, once studied. From grade school onward we had been taught a lot about Rizal, but I was eager to study him in a different light. What can we learn from Rizal the traveler?

Rizal never managed to visit the Netherlands, so my quest began in neighboring Belgium, where he published “El Filibusterismo.” That he had to delay the Fili’s publication due to limited funds speaks of the difficulties faced by our hero; but at the same time, he showed much diskarte during his stay, managing to publish articles in La Solidaridad and even go to the gym.

Paris featured prominently in his travels: He was actually there when the Eiffel Tower was inaugurated in 1882. Although our hero was mesmerized by the “City of Lights,” what must have struck him more were the French ideals of liberté, egalité, fraternité—ideals that doubtless influenced his writings and aspirations for the Philippines.

Rizal also visited Rome and London, capitals of European empires past and present, and many other cities such as Barcelona, Milan, Munich and Litomerice, to name just a few. The breadth of history in these places—spanning millennia—surely inspired him to reflect on his homeland with a broader historical perspective: one that is in brilliant display in “The Philippines a Century Hence.”

One of my memorable Rizal-inspired trips was to the German towns of Heidelberg and Wilhelmsfeld, where our hero stayed with Pastor Karl Ullmer and his family. Lingering in the small park that the town had put up for its illustrious guest, I pictured Rizal practicing German, writing “Noli Me Tangere,” wandering in the Odenwald hills—and I could only marvel at the genius of the man who saw no boundaries.

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In his travels across Europe, Rizal reminds us that we cannot harbor a simplistic view of the continent, which, from Paris to Prague, from Riga to Reykjavik, has had a diversity of experiences. Instead of looking at it solely on imperial terms, we should realize that some of the ideals that inspired our revolutions actually came from it: Europe itself, after all, was a colony of its kings. And If Europeans are vocal about human rights, perhaps it is borne of their past, which, like ours, was full of unspeakable suffering.

Rizal also commends us to ensure that wherever we are, our hearts should not be far from home. When he was in Brussels, he wrote about building a school in Calamba; when he was in London, he wrote to the women of Malolos. The Philippines was always his reference point, and today, with more and more Filipinos going and living abroad, we have much to gain if we allow other countries to inspire us about what can be done for our own.

Finally, Rizal in his European journeys exemplifies the importance of an international outlook: one that strikes a balance between patriotism and the idea of a universal brotherhood. Faced with the splendor of Europe and the varying attitudes of the people he met, Rizal felt neither insecure nor resentful, even if he had plenty of reasons to feel that way. Instead, he took a more enlightened path: learning as much as could, opening himself to new experiences, communicating his ideas in reasoned tones, and building friendships along the way.

As we mark his 156th birthday on June 19 and as our nation undertakes a much-needed conversation about our national—and postcolonial—identity, Rizal’s legacy can continue to inspire us. May we follow his footsteps not just in Europe but throughout the world.

Originally published in the Philippine Daily Inquirer: http://opinion.inquirer.net/104792/following-rizals-footsteps-europe