Sometimes there is a
pleasant surprise in a world that is increasingly complex. I never expected the Berlin Wall to come down
in 1989 nor did I ever imagine that Latvia, my parents’ homeland, would ever be
independent again. Or that Nelson
Mandela would be president of South Africa.
Finding this article in The Guardian was also a pleasant surprise.
http://www.theguardian.com/travel/2015/sep/19/medellin-colombia-city-not-dangerous-but-lively
The year I spent in
Medellin in the mid 1980’s could not have been more different. Here’s a poem I wrote about that time.
The Escobar Years
Cross Medellin square.
Man in paddy wagon shouts. Out next morning, amigo, no problem I say. I make
necklaces of seeds. and stumble home from cafés where beggars play guitars and
men with open sores crawl the sidewalk, a procession straight from God. Slices
of green mango served with shots of aguardiente, my only food. Gunshots at
night, hide under table. Thick with age, these are my war stories.
