By José Gandue @Gandour
The vast majority of the world's most attractive and vibrant cities have a wide spectrum of races, creeds, and nationalities residing in their neighborhoods., giving intense movement to its arts, its music, and the texts that narrate its history. These are cities where at any moment the smell, the sound and the colors change, because from sidewalk to sidewalk the arrival of people of a certain origin is reflected, who put their food, their clothes, their songs in the windows of their establishments. And it becomes even more interesting when the mix of flavors, aromas, rhythms, and languages explodes as you take your steps down the street. It is the beauty of fusion, the kind that arises from the dialogue between strangers, eager to share; those who want to understand what the other is doing., of those who know that what they inherited is not all that exists, Those of us who are not afraid of curiosity and the consequent experimentation with other textures, other experiences. The most open minds in those capitals know that what has been called "tradition" until now will be transformed into new forms, into intellectual gems that each generation will proudly present as cultural edifices built from the sum of the words and deeds of each day.
I must confess that at one point I was excited by the idea that the same phenomenon would happen in my city of residence, Bogotá. I myself am an immigrant. I was born in Tegucigalpa, Honduras. At the age of seven, after traveling with my family through all of Central America, we arrived at a place that was then very cold, rainy, with gray and dark clothing., people with a gaze that is, at least, observant of strangers. He arrived in a country that, contrary to what had happened in much of the region, had refused to receive large numbers of immigrants during the wars across the ocean, and still, Being in the seventies, he treated with suspicion the clueless person who arrived as a foreigner in these parts. Unlike what had happened in Argentina, Brazil, Chile, and Mexico, among other places, the local Jewish community here was quite small, barely a few thousand people who were considered exotic, at best, by the general population. A few years later, for reasons we won't go into, communities of foreign origin began to grow and gradually gained prominence in the capital's affairs. Bogotá, moreover, due to the political violence that the country has experienced since the late forties, was the meeting point for migrants within the national perimeter, displaced by the internal conflict, and the truth is if this city has a vibrant color in its landscape it is because of everything that these men and women from other parts of Colombia brought in their backpacks and who made this city a much more cheerful, lively, loud, and striking place. The "rolo" (original local inhabitant) had to get used to that collage and, soon, feel proud of all that melting pot that he saw day after day in his municipality. Taking everything into account, I must confess that an idea crossed my mind, something that for many at this point will sound very naive, but with those conditions described above, I was able to imagine it.
With the social and political crisis in Venezuela, I even thought that Bogotá, my city, was going to be the new musical headquarters of the avant-garde of the neighboring country. Let me give you some context: I imagined bands and artists like Los Mentas, Los Paranoia, Los Mesoneros, Desorden Público, Famas Loop, Rawayana, and even Los Amigos Invisibles themselves, using this city as their main base of operations. I thought about a large part of the hip hop scene in Caracas and its surrounding areas, with people like Gabylonia, Akapella, Apache, and others, immersed in local studios, sharing experiences and rhymes, and making Bogotá an even more attractive musical hub., at the level of fluidity of cultural growth centers such as Berlin, Barcelona or Mexico City. This city, until the pandemic, with all its structural weaknesses and everything we still had to build, was still considered one of the leading musical centers in this part of the world. Having more talent among us—perhaps the best thing our neighbors have offered in recent years, I still believe—was the final touch we needed for Bogotá to reach the pinnacle we deserve.
Did anyone else imagine this? I don't think so, I know mine was too outdated. That silly rivalry that has always existed between Colombians and Venezuelans, where the poor soul of the moment went with his head down to submit to the abuses of the neighbor in that stable moment always marked the unfortunate agenda at the borders. It happened on the way there, it happens on the way back, and because of that resentment we have lost every opportunity we can imagine. And, in my naiveté, to conceive of Bogotá as a strengthened cultural hub in northern South America, with open-door policies for artistic expressions from across the continent, was an absurd dream. They don't know the opportunity we've missed. If this city had cultivated the right strategies for integrating immigrant talent alongside local production, we would still be talking about the Colombian capital, even in the final throes of the pandemic., as a vital point of art in the hemisphere. That would have brought political, economic and social benefits, vital for a country that needs to consolidate its peace process and requires increased public and private investment for its growth.
We, from official, business and population levels, should rethink what to do with those who arrive on our soil. I still dream of a Bogotá that is more multicultural than ever. And I don't mean this just in a romantic way, like someone who wants a million friends, as Roberto Carlos would say. I believe that fear of strangers and hatred of those who are different not only make us worse people, but also impoverish us. Variety is the spice of life and offers opportunities to be better. Don't doubt it. Think about it.
