I didn’t want to write this. Thought it’d be too honest. BUT, I poured myself an Eagle Rare whiskey and started putting fingers to computer keys.
A day ago I sat across a friend of mine, very beautiful, exceptionally nice and genuinely kind. Maybe those last two descriptions/adjectives were redundant. We sat on the couch and shared a bottle of Provenance Cabernet Sauvignon. A tasty bottle, run you roughly $30 to $35, don’t pay over $37. She said, “Roman, Medellin is very dangerous. Don’t ever pull out your cell phone while in a cab. Don’t talk on it. Don’t catch a taxi in the street. Always call for it.” She proceeded to tell me two nail biting stories of which she escaped sure danger. I sat there cool and calm, sipping my wine as though someone were reading Oliver Twist to me. Oliver’s story is special. BUT on the inside I was shaking like a nervy kid about to get beat with a leather belt by his mama. Funny how old school disciplining will get you locked up today.
As I sat in front of my friend, I reflected on a story, April 2007, Rio de Janeiro, Brasil. I was leaving Meia Pataca, probably around 5pm. I was HAMMERED!! Been drinking there for hours with some new acquaintances. It’s easy to meet new acquaintances at Meia Pataca. The place has changed now, has a family feel. Back when I was going family isn’t the word you associated with Meia Pataca or Help, but let me not burst some bubbles and cause any divorces.
ANYWAY, I hopped in a taxi, Heineken in a plastic cup with ice in hand. The taxi road two, maybe three blocks and took a sharp and sudden right. So sharp I flew to the other side of the back seat, BUT, I DIDN’T SPILL MY DRINK, real talent there! Quickly after the turn, the taxi stopped and a policeman appeared. He told me to get out. I had no idea what was going on, as I look back now, it was probably a set-up, had to be.
I exit the taxi and can barely stand up straight, huge smile on my face. The cop says, “Do you have any drugs?” “No,” I say laughing. I really was laughing. I probably had 10 Heinekens in me. The guy asked me the question two more times, my answer was the same. Then he made me sober up. He told me to empty my pockets. FUCK ME!!! AND THE 9 HEINEKENS I DRANK BEFORE THIS!!! I took a deep breath. I knew what I had in my pockets. In my right, $3,500 American. In my left $1,000 American in Reais. I didn’t want to empty my pockets but refusal wasn’t going to fly here. As I pulled that $3,500 out I could see the cops eyes go wide, like a flashlight turning on. In my mind I thought, “You fucking MOPE! This guy’s going to take your money.” He asked me again. “Do you do drugs?” My answer, “Bro, I just drink.” I raised my plastic cup as I said the words. What a nut I was!!! The guy had a partner who checked the back seat of the taxi, nothing. The cop who was on me locked his eyes on mine, seemed like a whole minute, probably was only five seconds. Then he said, “Get out of here.” I told that story to EVERY Brasilian friend and expat I knew and they all responded the same. “You are so lucky! 99% of the time that happens your money’s gone!”
Now let me move back to Medellin, here on the couch, me scared stiff as my friend tells me how dangerous the city is. Oh, and another buddy of mine got robbed here at gunpoint two months ago.
I first visited Colombia in June of 2011. Stayed a month in Cali, Colombia. Since then I’ve spent probably close to 6 months in the country, most of that in Medellin. I walked the streets late at night, more times than not alone. I know I’ve pulled my cell phone out countless times in a taxi and in the street. During the day I take my laptop with me to write. I’ve never had a problem and I just knocked on the wall behind me as write this for good luck.
My point here is this. As I listened to my friend, I thought, “Shit!! I’m scared as hell! Maybe I need to stay in.” Then, that Force within me, the one which drives me along this path took hold. I’ve been traveling the world for a solid fifteen years. I remember walking the streets of Abu Dhabi at 3am, regularly. I’ve done the same in more European cities than I care to mention(I’ve got a FUNNY Budapest story I will tell one day). I’ve been all over Porto Alegre, Brasil, birthplace to Ronaldinho Guacho, the GREATEST ARTIST I’VE EVER SEEN. I once crossed the city in a night. There were numerous nights I barely made it back to my place in Kho Samui, Thailand. I don’t believe whatever pushes me along this path has brought me this far so I can wind up in a ditch butt naked with a hole in my chest. Could be, but I doubt it.
Be mindful of your surroundings. Stay in if you want, but the stories you reflect on and laugh about years later only happen if you get out.
I remember once in Bangkok, almost got into a fight with a guy. His sister broke it up. Not long after I was drinking beers at the table with him, his sister and their father. We all got blasted except for the sister. The father and brother offered me their sister. YES! I said offered. That calls for an explanation at another time. I did decline the offer. The father and brother left. I was so inebriated I could barely move. I was slouched back in a chair slurring every syllable. I did manage with great effort to hand the sister the card for my hotel. She took me in a taxi back to my place, disrobed me and laid me in bed. I remember asking her, why was she being so nice to me. She gave me a kiss on the forehead and said, “I think you’re a nice guy and I don’t want to see anything happen to you.” I never saw her again.
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