Ciudad Bolívar and the perils of perceptions

Ciudad Bolívar. (Delaney Turner)

You hear a lot about Ciudad Bolívar, none of it good. Life in the city’s poorest district has long been characterized by drugs, gangs, and violence.

It’s been referred to as one of the world’s largest mega-slums.

It’s usually off-limits.

The closest I’d come to seeing it was from the relative safety of a moving car.

Until yesterday, when I spent the day there as an international observer for the Misión de Observación Electoral in Colombia’s Presidential Election.

“Ah,” said my driver upon hearing where I was going. “You’re going to see some real poverty up there.”

From a distance, “up there” looks a haphazard collection of orange building blocks scattered by a careless Creator across the southernmost end of the Bogotá savanna.

Ciudad Bolívar, looking northeast. (Delaney Turner)

Up close, however, it looks remarkably different.

It looks remarkably like Chapinero, an area of the city that isn’t off-limits.

Frankly, it looks like everyday Bogotá.

Central Cuidad Bolívar, near the Colegio Ismael Perdomo. (Delaney Turner)

Stores of every type are well-stocked and spotless. House facades are well-kept and colourful. Schools and their classrooms are clean and tidy.

Everywhere, people of all ages are going about their daily business. Kids play soccer. Fathers wash cars. Mothers and grandmothers have their hair done.

Restaurants serve the same menus executivos as they do in Usaquén and at noon they’re doing a brisk business.

I don’t know why this was such a surprise to me, but it was.

“This is the Bogotá that Bogotanos never see,” said a fellow Observer.

Make no mistake, though – life in Cuidad Bolívar is dangerous. The homicide rate there is three times higher than in Usaquén and nearly seven times higher than in Chapinero.

Life here is difficult. The district is not well-served by public transit. Roads are narrow, full of potholes, and strewn with garbage. Stray dogs and chickens are everywhere.

Even accessing the school to vote meant clambering up a 45-degree slope of bare rock.

Colegio Distrital República de Canadá sits atop a steep limestone slope. (Delaney Turner)

It’s too early to say whether living conditions for the district’s half-million residents will improve under Colombia’s first post-conflict President.

And I know the realities of life here are too complex for me to understand over the course of a single afternoon, too varied to convey in a few pics on Instagram.

At the very least, though, the next time I hear people refer to the district, I’ll remember to check my preconceived notions about what poverty looks like at the door.