Week 1: Cultural Immersion
As I embarked on my journey to Medellín, the concerns expressed by my friends and family echoed in my head. Their genuine worries are stark reminders of the city's troubled history. In particular, Communa 13 had stood as a battleground for drug lords, right-wing guerillas, and left-wing paramilitaries. Despite a decade since the conflict simmered down, Medellin is still perceived as one of the most dangerous cities by many. As I embarked on this adventure, I was fully aware that my experience would be a stark contrast to the safety and familiarity of Hong Kong. I was ready to embrace the transformative experiences that Medellín had in store for me.
Resilience
Yet, riding the escalator up the steep slope of Communa 13, surrounded by crowded houses and the hustle-bustle of tourism, I couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity and connection. The scene reminded me of the Central-Mid-Levels Escalators in my hometown. It struck me how such an ordinary infrastructure can bring about profound changes in the lives of the people of Communa 13. Where once there were decades of violence and suffering, it has now become a thriving community. The transformation of this community is truly a living embodiment of resilience and strength, showing how the perception of outsiders cannot overshadow their unwavering spirit.
Connection — to the land and with one another
The locals have a fond nickname for their beloved city, referring to it affectionately as Mi Tierrita or My Little Land. As I walked through the maze of brick-red houses covering the mountain slopes, I came across some new constructions in progress. All of them were built with bricks, and most if not all, meticulously painted in red. As we were told later — people deliberately do so out of a sense of community. To me, it was a visual representation of their collective identity. They stayed, regardless of the hardship they faced. They continue to feel hope and love for their motherland, despite its numerous challenges. The community's turbulent history has only made the pursuit of healing and reconciliation all the more remarkable.
Another incredible thing I have witnessed is how people wholeheartedly embrace the power of connection. From the smiles and hugs to the enthusiastic cheers and honks for their national football team. Their warmth is infectious, even when barriers like mountains and languages stand in the way. Their eagerness to bridge divides makes me feel right at home.
Collective memory and the truth
At the heart of it all is what I believe, the search for truth. Establishing the Truth Commission in the aftermath of the armed conflict has become a crucial part of the healing process. People came to share their own stories, their pieces of truth. As I wandered around the Museo Casa de la Memoria, or House of Memory Museum, I was offered a vivid representation of the immense pain and suffering the people of this city endured. And yet I was told — Truth is not just about looking back; it is about shaping the future. For acommunity, collecting truths is more than a quest for justice; it is a search for acknowledgment, closure, and growth, so that history does not repeat itself. When we embrace the truth, we create a space for open dialogue and empathy. We open ourselves up to genuine connections. We build our capacity for trust, forgiveness, and transformation.
On trust and transformation
At the end of our visit to the museum, we were reminded of the transformation this city is undergoing and the courage its people carry to move forward. It got me thinking: What do you wish to sow in your life? Trust was the first word that came into my mind. To me, trust is not only a profound belief in others. It requires immense inner strength, for the conscious choice to embrace vulnerability and honest communication. Trust is also the overcoming of fear, the unconscious avoidance of potential disagreements and uncomfortable conversations.
As I begin writing this blog post, I am brought back to a powerful question in one of our workshops: Have you ever, consciously or unconsciously, hidden parts of who you are to avoid conflict? As we stepped forward in agreement, I realized — we are all so different, yet similar in many ways. It becomes a constant reminder of how I can trust myself, trust the people around me, and trust the adventure in the coming 5 weeks.
Week 2: Ways of Expression
A highlight of our second week’s journey was the visit to the organization Picacho con Futuro, where I had a great time with the kids while we sketched our favorite sports and aspirations. Despite the vibrant encounters with the children, this activity has all the more shed light on the language barrier that often separates us. While the session was a meaningful reflection on ourselves, there were times I wished I could dive deeper by asking them "why," yearning for a more profound exchange. It was a little disheartening to realize that with my almost non-existent Spanish skills, their brilliant ideas often got lost in translation. Communication turned out to be slightly one-sided, with me giving instructions and the kids not having much room to ask questions or share their thoughts.
On communication and education
Earlier this week, we were introduced to the teachings of the famous educator Paulo Freire, who envisioned education as a tool for empowering and liberating human potential. In his mind, education is not just about teachers relaying knowledge, but about a bi-directional communication where “we are all teachers and learners” — that each individual’s insight is respected and appreciated. For me, it is a powerful reminder that learning is a dynamic exchange that thrives on diversity and meaningful connections, and one of the most important aspects would be creating space for people to communicate in their preferred language.
Reflecting on my journey of learning English as a second language, I resonate with the struggle of grappling with thoughts and feelings that remain just beyond the reach of my vocabulary. When full expression is hindered, feelings of inadequacy and isolation follow. While I felt more compelled to practice expressing myself in English and Spanish to embrace the linguistic diversity around me, I find comfort in knowing that the essence of popular education, and learning at its core, is not just about understanding words on a page. It is also about fostering meaningful connections, shared experiences, and a sense of collective empowerment.
Yet in a city as warm and vibrant as Medellin, within the constraint of language, there was space for me to rediscover forgotten channels of self-expression. Stripped of my reliance on words, I fell back to the way I used to express myself — through movements — playing ball games, moving my body along the music, even physical connections to bond and show my care for others. It is incredible how life becomes more vivid and exciting when we venture beyond the confines of language, allowing for creativity and spontaneity.
As an observer and inquirer of life, this shift showed me the beauty of non-verbal bonding — connections can run deep, regardless of our vocabulary. Thanks to the city's friendly vibe and energetic beats, I learned a lot about breaking barriers and embracing myself. Here, dancing is not a performance but merely a way of having fun and sharing the space with the community. When external validation is no longer a concern, I becomes easier to appreciate my own body and my way of movement, as ways to reconnect with myself.
Week 3: Working, with nature
This week revolved around diving deep into project details and getting the administrative side of things in order. Through researching potential funding sources for Sueños y Huellas, an organization that empowers young women and children in the community, I discovered a work that beautifully balanced my love for organizing information and exploring diverse possibilities.
Working in nature
Growing up in a city environment, my relationship with nature has always been conflicted. On one hand, I adore the serenity that greenery brings. Yet, I've harbored a deep-seated annoyance and fear for insects and dirt. In the city I called home, where most daily activities were kept indoors with the comfort of air conditioning, insects were rare, unwelcome intruders. They symbolize filth, chaos, and a lack of control — traits that clash with the sanitized confines of urban living. And when they did appear, they were swiftly dealt with — chased off or killed in great alarm. However, surrounded by the natural beauty in Medellín and the university campus I am working on, I often found myself face-to-face with these tiny creatures. As I began to immerse myself in my immediate environment, these encounters became constant reminders of how they are an integral part of the ecosystem, a showcase of the diversity and vitality of nature. These moments also prompted me to reflect on how I had long shielded myself in a protective shell from the unfamiliar. I learned to be more appreciative of them as fellow inhabitants of the Earth, and that being in harmony with nature means accepting the full spectrum experience it has to offer. This realization extends beyond my interactions with nature. It is about every aspect of life that I am experiencing, from engaging with unfamiliar cultures to tackling diverse challenges.
Embracing the full experience
When it comes to work, anxiety tends to creep into my body like an unwelcome guest. The pressure to perform against both internal and external expectations can easily send my thoughts spiraling. The desire for progress and a sense of control, much like the protective barrier I once sought comfort in when faced with insects, originated from a blend of self-doubt and fear of falling short. As a result, there is this need to constantly evaluate myself and the work I do. It becomes a barrier that separates me from the full experience, holding me back from the challenges and opportunities I encounter.
So, what exactly is the full experience? I ask myself. It does not only include the plan, the progress, the impact, and the results. It is also about the risks, the obstacles, and sometimes the setbacks that we often shy away from discussing. Yet when we start to think about what failure truly is — it's just part of the journey — a chance to learn and grow, not a dead-end. Being able to face the challenges while having a strong team by my side also makes a big change. It eases the weight of expectations and redirects my focus. Instead of obsessing over the result, my attention shifts toward the people I'm working with and the experience we are creating together. The journey and the memories become as important as the destination. As we move forward, it also becomes clearer to me that striking a balance between progress and personal fulfillment is crucial, as is prioritizing self-care — nurturing mental and physical well-being to sustain productivity and creativity.