Downtown Medellin , my home, is one of the most colorful places I have known in my life. Since moving here in , I have grown used to seeing dead people, year-old children selling their bodies, people with limbs missing, me being attacked with knives, junkies shooting up in the middle of the street, transvestites with ass-implants three times the size of their head, and people smoking pot β lots of people smoking pot.
Because the 10th district is the city center, particularly the Candelaria neighborhood where I live, this sordidness is mostly absorbed or integrated into normal life during the day, as people from all parts of town come to my neighborhood to work or shop, and flood the city with colors and sounds.
The Candelaria is the old banking district. Consequently you see plenty of people in office outfits. Adding to that, people from the poorer neighborhoods up in the hills descend onto downtown to work in one of the thousands of shops, or to sell fruit or cigarettes or shoelaces on the street.
This temporary integration of social classes is another thing that makes downtown Medellin so fascinating. One can just carelessly sit on any street corner and watch a thousand movies at once.
Another particular form of integration takes place among those living downtown. As a resident, you actually get to personally know the militia members, security guards, thieves and beggars. This provides a social fabric that is not just very pleasant, but also important for personal safety when the night comes.
