Bogotá's cocaine barrios

@wwaycorrigan

[Listen to an audio version of this blog entry here.]

A common complaint you'll hear from Colombians when the C-bomb gets dropped in their company is that the biggest, most problematic issue at play is the drug's use by foreigners in developed nations.

Sin city?

Figures on cocaine consumption across the globe support this stance. What's more, from the perspective of those producing the "white gold" here in Colombia, ensuring it remains popular in the richer countries is vitally important for revenues. In financial terms, the local market is very minor in comparison.

Snow comforts

Nonetheless, there is a home demand. From my own observations, it's certainly not insignificant, although it seems more prevalent in neighbourhoods of a lower socio-economic standing. By all accounts, in high-income nations, the opposite is the case.

You might counter that I'm generalising when I say cocaine use is relatively commonplace across Bogotá's working-to-lower-class barrios, that I shouldn't assume that what happens in one sector is replicated in another. It's a fair point. Yet, I've socialised in various parts of the city to know that it's certainly not just limited to one particular area.

In what I imagine is similar to the rest of the world where cocaine is popular, it's men under 50 who appear to be the chief consumers. For Colombia, unsurprisingly, availability and price are big factors in this popularity.

'There's a belief — not without foundation — that Colombia's "best" cocaine is sent for export. It's difficult to know if this is good or bad for the local consumer.'

For example, as a very rough guide, products in Ireland are generally four times more expensive than Colombia. Yet, one can purchase a gram or so of cocaine in Bogotá for the equivalent of 2.50 euros. I'm pretty sure you can't get the same amount in Ireland for ten euros. Try, so my research tells me, about eight times that.

Easy money

Now, the majority of those I know here who are occasional consumers are not what I would class as addicts. It appears to be a weekend indulgence solely.

What's more, it's not like nieve — snow, for the uninitiated — is the first thing on their minds. No, it's usually the world's most popular gateway drug, alcohol, first. Then comes the cocaine. A global trend really.

One could also question the purity of what Colombians are sold.

Like the country's coffee, there's a belief — not without foundation — that the "best" cocaine is sent for export. It's difficult to know if this is good or bad for the consumer. Less pure may mean less addictive and less harmful. However, it could also mean the complete opposite.

Another striking feature of the cocaine business I've observed is the involvement of adolescents. Lads who should be at school are instead low-intensity dealers. The thing is, they've no classes to go to right now as schools have been closed since March due to the pandemic.

OK, considering the profit margins — they can double their money on each unit sold — they probably deal around the college gates in normal times anyway.

With all that in mind, in my early days in this country, echoing a call from then Colombian President Juan Manuel Santos, I wrote about the need to seriously debate the legalisation of the cocaine trade. Alas, in most of the richer nations where consumption is high, such a proposal doesn't appear to have been given any proper consideration.

Thus, we continue with prohibition across much of the world which, it can be said, does more harm than good on a number of levels. No surprises there. As a society, we're adept at applying the wrong solutions to our problems.

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Listen to Wrong Way's Colombia Cast podcast here.

Facebook: Wrong Way Corrigan — The Blog & IQuiz "The Bogotá Pub Quiz". 

 

Broadening the horizons, both mentally and physically

@wwaycorrigan

[Listen to an audio version of this blog entry here.]

'Choose where you want to live and then find ways to make your life sustainable there.'

Does the answer lie to the north? Perhaps ...

In those pre-coronavirus days that now seem like a lifetime ago, for many open-minded people with internationally transferable skills or in jobs that required no fixed abode, and with nothing too emotional tying them to one particular place, that epigraph made a lot of sense. The world was, to all intents and purposes, their oyster.

Wealth is health

With the pandemic, while the (relatively) free movement of people hasn't completely ground to a halt, it is much more restricted than it was just nine months ago. 

In addition, there is the moral element at play in relation to the risks associated with unnecessary travel and mixing with strangers.

This can be even more of a burden considering the direction of travel in a live-anywhere-because-I-can context is heavily weighted towards emerging market countries and away from more developed nations. The latter — in theory, although this current pandemic hasn't exactly borne this out — is much better equipped to handle a health emergency.

'Many will have to reinvent themselves to survive in the new landscape.'

So, using that as a guide, it's quite understandable that a country such as Colombia appears to be making it more difficult for digital nomad types to pitch their virtual tents in its territory. 

Unless it can clearly be demonstrated you're of benefit to the state and its people, away with you. (For the record, I can't really call myself a digital nomad, if this is classed in terms of making money doing online work.)

Of course, the pandemic will pass and restrictions on movement — for tourism and some wishing to be economic migrants in any case — are likely to ease. What will take longer to get over is the fallout from it.

Work the location

For some, in terms of living standards anyway, little has changed. Indeed, in certain aspects, their lives may have even improved.

For others — and for the large part, those who were already struggling before this coronavirus — things are much more difficult. Many will have to practically reinvent themselves to survive in the new landscape.

I can't really blame the pandemic for my current imbroglio. OK, the virus ("Alan", you owe me money!) certainly hasn't helped my situation, but I took a decision to try to 'go it alone' before our enemy from the East arrived. The results thus far are nothing to write home about.

Coming back to our opening quote, if I continue to choose Colombia as the country in which I live — a decision that I have less control over today than previously — then it looks like I need to reappraise how I can "make it" here. 

Certain things that I've said no more to, specifically English teaching and marketing agency work, may have to come back into play.

Yet, if the strategy is all about finding gainful employment that I consider more meaningful and suited to my skills, then perhaps I need to reconsider the location.

There is no ideal — even Colombia purely as a location has its negatives — yet my current approach isn't exactly paying dividends.
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Listen to Wrong Way's Colombia Cast podcast here.

Facebook: Wrong Way Corrigan — The Blog & IQuiz "The Bogotá Pub Quiz". 

Living with a destructive parasite

 @wwaycorrigan

[Listen to an audio version of this blog entry here.]

'As everyone does, I have microorganisms on my skin. However, one has become particularly irksome of late.

Parasite central.

Health hazard

Its rapidly increasing numbers is one reason for this. As unpleasant as that is, I can cope with it, the occasional treatment to reduce the tingling sensation notwithstanding.

Of greater annoyance is its destructiveness, not only to my physical appearance but also to the demise of other more symbiotic organisms that live off me. In fact, many have completely disappeared, which has adversely affected my overall health.

For one, I find myself getting fevers more regularly than before. In the past, I could quickly cool down with some ice treatment, but that's becoming increasingly difficult these days.

While as far as I can remember I've always had patches of dry skin, especially in the greater crotch area, these have been spreading to other parts where I used to have a good covering of hair.

'Maybe the best natural solution is to get close to the fire for an extended period of time.'

I'm also sweating in greater amounts. What's more, the small irregular skin growths that this parasite seems to bring about in proximity to sweat glands have increased in size over the years.

I tend to find a good ice-cold shower helps to reduce its impact. Yet, it's only a temporary respite. It seems this organism has evolved to find a way to combat any water-based treatment I apply to my body.

The heat is on

It does seem much less resistant to extreme heat. I've had a few bad burns over my lifetime — I'm a bit clumsy that way — and this parasite appears to avoid those parts of my skin that have been scalded, the most recent ones in any case.

Indeed, when this "lodger" is at its most irritating, I feel like covering my whole body in flames. That mightn't be the best idea, all the same.

Linked to that, when I'm in smokey areas, this also helps to reduce its activity levels. Again, though, I can't be doing that all the time.

Maybe the best natural solution — I'm not a fan of manufactured chemicals — is to get close to a fire for an extended period of time. Or at least apply intense heat patches to my skin. It'll get uncomfortable, but I can bear it.

Actually, such a strategy worked before, ridding me of bigger, but less annoying parasites. If I immediately follow this up with an ice bath for as long as I can endure it, I should be fine.

Sure look, I've survived various heavy blows from other bodies since birth. I won't let this little creature, "human" as it's called, get me down. I'm sure it won't be plaguing me for much longer.'
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'Cry me a river?' 'Eh, no thanks'

@wwaycorrigan

[Listen to an audio version of this blog entry here.]

In the 1972 classic, Godfather, there's an early scene where Don Corleone berates his godson, Johnny Fontaine, for crying because 
he didn't get a part in a movie. 'Godfather, I don't know what to do', a sobbing Fontaine mutters.

Cue a slap in the face and a violent retort, 'You can act like a man', followed by a gentle mocking of his behaviour from the Don.

'Let it all out, good lad.' (Image from emojipedia.org.)

Crying times

That scene is set in the late 1940s, a quite different world from that which we inhabit today, to state the obvious. 

These days, it's all about being in touch with one's emotions. It's OK to cry, whether you're a man, woman, child or however else you define yourself. Don't suppress your feelings, let it all out.

I don't completely disagree with that approach. For one, for the most part, it's good to be honest about how you feel — at least if you're asked that is.

What I don't like, what irritates me, is when the waterworks start, especially — although not exclusively — when it's men who are shedding the tears. This is where I side with Don Corleone.

It's not that it makes me uncomfortable, it's more a case that I find it hard to take seriously men who cry with regularity.

As for women, whether the tears are genuine or not, they often, um, precipitate a granting, justified or not, of whatever they may be looking for.

I generally make an exception for death, but even in that there seem to be people who let flow more than really appears "necessary". (Perhaps we could introduce a tear scale. 'Careful now, you're close to your limit.')

Bidding adieu to loved ones for an indefinite period of time is another "acceptable" tear-jerker. Alcohol-induced crying is also excepted, meaningless as it often is.

'When the tears in others come they invoke a negative, cold reaction in me. Rather than wanting to help, I have a desire to walk away.'

This aversion towards, bordering on utter contempt for crying has something to do with, it's safe to assume, my childhood. I was, after all, a serial crier into my mid-teens.

Then, from about 15 onwards, I started to develop a strong dislike when seeing others well up for reasons that I would have considered rather inconsequential.

During that time, no doubt having to deal with me, her last born, I recall my mother crying for what seemed like the merest of reasons. It used to get my blood up.

Even if I'd been told it was all largely down to the menopause, it's unlikely I would have been sympathetic to her plight. Selfish teens, eh.

Dry your eyes, mate

This clearly left its mark. For in my current abode, the landlady, a nice woman I hasten to add, cries on an almost-daily basis.

It's not only, as has happened a fair few times, a headache when she does it speaking directly to me about some grievance or another (these grievances have nothing to do with me, by the way!). It also irks me simply when I can just hear her sobbing away in her room.

I know I should probably be a little more empathetic considering she suffers from depression, it's just when the tears in others come they invoke a negative, somewhat cold reaction in me. Rather than wanting to help I have a desire to walk away.

It's not that I lack understanding. In fact, I'd wager I take the time to listen to and empathise with other people's gripes as much if not more so than the next person. I just wish they'd leave the crying out of it.

The British-Irish band The Pogues sang in Streams of Whiskey, 'there's nothing ever gained by a wet thing called a tear'. That's not fully true, but I wish it was.
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