Why I Quit My Job and Moved to Colombia
From colleges at work to bemused taxi drivers shuffling me around the bustling streets of Barranquilla, the question is always the same. Why Colombia though? Posed, usually against a backdrop of bewildered expressions, as if I am lost on the way to somewhere else; as if Barranquilla is a place people leave, not come to, especially when arriving from Europe.
After a bad day at work made worse by catching the trans-metro (the Barranquilla bus transport system), at peak hours from the north to south of the city (something you would have to experience to truly understand) or after a long day navigating an alien health system, I would be lying if there hadn’t been a couple of occasions where I’d also asked myself the same question.
Yet whilst the challenges have been plenty, including not being able to get hold of an english cup of tea to make it all better, there are some solid reasons why I made the tricky decision to say farewell to a comfy job, pub nights out and the bustling London life I knew.
I first got to know Colombia when I was 18. Until then my knowledge of the country was sparse; a string of stereotypes, based on tv shows about drugs and news articles depicting violence. There was this drug baron called Pablo Escobar who once controlled a city called Medellin. People spoke Spanish. Coke was cheap. My friend, who was ready to embark on her travels across Latin America, invited me to join her for a carnival in a city called Barranquilla and after a few glances of colourful costumes and incredible dances online, I was sold.
My six days in Barranquilla during the famous carnival: being received by a family who had never met me, yet would treat me like another daughter, followed by a trip to the beaches in Santa Marta, a six-day trek to an ancient city, called “La Ciudad Perdida” [The Lost City], and two days in a city called Medellin, where that guy Pablo Escobar once lived, challenged every conception I had previously held of the country.
It was no longer just another dangerous place in the world, but a beautiful and special one. A place where I made incredible memories — from dancing on the street in carnivals to watching the sunrise at 6am overlooking the ruins of an ancient city in Sierra Nevada. I left the country impassioned and excited, with a deeply forged desire to one day return and not just visit Colombia, but to live the culture I had felt so touched and enamoured by.
Yet, life being life, my plans to return after university didn’t go as smoothly. What I thought would be three years of university became 5, after I became ill. And when it really did seem like it would happen in 2020 — flights booked, job sorted with the British council teaching English at a Colombian university — Covid hit, bursting my dreams (and everyone else’s on the planet), like a needle in a balloon.
With lockdown holding us hostage, I began a job in the civil service, working from home. Immersed in the hustle and bustle of grad life in London (albeit temporarily replacing pub trips with online quizzes), the once strong desire to live abroad began to battle with new fixations: the next promotion, the need to be saving every penny I make to one day buy a tiny flat in Zone 5. My hopes and how I once defined my own happiness and success morphed into those around me.
But I couldn’t stop wondering how I might feel if I didn’t go, and that the growing responsibilities piling up around me might make it harder to leave in the future. So, amidst the excitement of my new grad life, I decided to listen to the trickle of doubts as I applied for promotions, and took the plunge to move.
A decision that 6 months later, I look back with joy and relief, as I write this first blog post sitting on the edge of a mountain overlooking the capital of the Colombian region, Antioquia, Medellin, otherwise known as the city of eternal spring.
My experience, living Colombia, as I had desperately wanted to all those years ago, has taught me far more than how to speak costeño Spanish (specific words and phrases spoken in the Caribbean region of Colombia), or how to dance salsa.
I’ve learnt about a country with an immense pride for its people and culture, something that no civil war or period of conflict has or will ever have the power to take away. You only need to go to one of the many carnivals or ferias held throughout the year to see how the various traditional music and dances, reflecting a colourful blend of ingenious, African and European influences, form the beat to the people’s hearts, spark a nostalgic child-like joy, that melts you in the moment.
I have got to know a group of people, that despite in some cases suffering difficult economic situations, with poverty rife in many regions, are quick to smile and laugh; go the extra mile to make you feel at home.
A country that is diverse in all the meanings of the word; from its people and culture, to its stunning geography. To translate a quote that my friend from Medellin sent me:
If you want to see the Pacific Ocean, go to Chile. If you want to see the Atlantic Ocean, go to Jamaica. If you want to get to know the Andes mountains, go to Bolivia. If you want to see vast tropical grassland, go to Venezuela. If you want to see the amazon rainforest, go to Brazil. If you want to know the pre-Columbian cultures, go to Mexico.
But If you want to see and get to know all of those things, come to Colombia.¹
Made up of the Andean, Caribbean, Pacific, Orinoquía, Amazon and Insular regions, Colombia has a place for everyone, from beach goers to adventure junkies, nature lovers to urbanites.
Through interviews with locals, and my own experiences, I hope to use this platform to share with you the parts of Colombia that fascinate me, from subcultures on the Caribbean, the history of carnivals, to life in pacific coast.
Stay tuned!
References
Carlos, Juan (2013) Colombia: La unión de tantas sigularidades. Available at: https://www.dw.com/es/colombia-la-uni%C3%B3n-de-tantas-sigularidades/a-17202717
