Two birds
Ernesto Samper was sitting at his vast presidential desk, deliberating over his next move when the call came.
"Don't you dare remove that sculpture," said an agitated voice down the line. "I'll make you a new one, but the old one has to stay."
...
San Antonio Plaza, Medellin, 1995.
A backpack filled with 22lbs of explosives is placed underneath Botero's 'The Bird' sculpture on the corner of the small plaza where hundreds of Colombian's have squeezed in to enjoy an open air concert.
As they dance, drink and sing along at the top of their lungs, the backpack explodes, killing 30 people and injuring more than 200 others.
To this day, Colombian authorities still do not know who planted bomb.
The Bird, cast in bronze, had it's belly ripped out and was left was mangled and disfigured.
President Samper had ordered its removal, prompting its original artist, the internationally renowned, Botero, to reach out with the phone call I imagined above.
Botero, famous for his sculptures exploring what he called 'the language of volumes', made good on his promise to Samper.
Today, two birds sit side by side in the plaza, one a ruin, and the other a symbol of the incredible resilience of the people of Medellin.
This story, and many others, was shared with me by Milo from Real City Tours.
I admit, I came to Medellin because I loved watching Narcos, the Netflix series documenting the rise and fall of the city's most infamous resident.
I won't mention him here because Milo made a point of not naming him during the tour, as the name represents a painful legacy of death and loss.
Many people in Medellin are baffled, offended and angered at the parade of tourists whose only motive is to take a picture of one man's grave.
So I'm pleased to have joined a Real City Tour where I was shown so very much more.
It was a gentle and welcome re-education.
Medellin is a city that has its grasp firmly on the present and its eyes on the future.
The last 20 years have seen it replace slums with bamboo forests, construct a fantastic new metro system and dedicate itself to 'democratic architecture'.
Botero sculptures line the streets, beautiful buildings rise up towards the mountains that surround the city, and people pour into salsa bars after work.
Its metro system is beloved by the people as a symbol of Medellin's dogged determination to shake off the past.
Twenty-five years after its construction, the stations and trains remain spotless. Nobody eats or drinks on the metro and littering in the station is seen as an insult to the city.
As someone who takes public transport for granted every day, hearing all this from Milo had a real impact on me.
If Medellin's future continues to lie in the strength, grit and passion of it's people... it's in safe hands.
