Parque Lleras and the Medellin nightlife

The weekends of my previous stays in Medellin were rewards of debauchery for getting up to teach an intra-week 6am English class. Two of my fellow English teaching friends and I would without fail have rum and cokes on our balcony, then stumble up the road to a modern wonder overlooked by the recent selection committee. Parque Lleras. Situated in the center of the ritzy El Poblado, during the day this park is pleasant enough. A statue, a fountain, trees, benches...but then the sun sets, and the bars and restaurants surrounding the park fill up with the beautiful, rich and plastic of Medellin. I would guess there are about 50 high-class bars/restaurants in the 2-block radius of Lleras, all completely packed with suit-wearing yuppie guys and the silicon-filled dresses that accompany them. Not owning a suit myself nor keen on the overly augmented, I would relegate myself to cheap litros of beers in the plaza, and make occasional people-watching strolls to ogle the elites in their bars like cages at a zoo. The plaza would fill up with an equally beautiful, but younger (and cheaper) clientele, so that despite my age nearing 30 I thought it suited me for obvious bank account reasons. The nights would always progress from us three Gringos gawking and drinking, to inevitably one of us having drunk enough to start a random Spanish conversation. The irony of this need to drink and stand around like a herd of mute sheep before starting the social quest of the night is that unlike in the States, in Colombia I have never had an intro to a conversation go poorly. And I have said some pretty butchered and stupid things. The response, though not always bearing romantic fruit, is always warm, curious, and usually followed up shortly with a half shot of guaro in a plastic cup. Drinking and conversations usually continue till past midnight, when the park begins to empty as thick tongues and loose bodies motivate the masses to the nearby discotecas. After a couple hours of dancing to what seems like the same playlist at every bar, every night, my favorite part of the night was the remate (afterparty) at Parque Poblado. This park, despite its proximity to Lleras, has a whole different vibe. The per capita ounce of silicon in Lleras is equaled by the per capita ounce of marijuana at Parque Poblado. An eclectic vibe of alternative thinking students, post-party plastics, pot dealers and upper middle class stoners embodies the park. This is the place that a non-Spanish speaker could come for utterly safe people watching, paralleled only by NYC (except New York is not as safe), or one that does habla Espanol can have some of the more interesting, albeit slightly drunken, conversations. Despite the recipe for violence engendered by the time of 4am, the nightly alcohol consumption of the park needing to be measured in swimming pools, and the mixing of socio-economic groups and political opinions, the park is incredibly pacific and safe. There is a police station located on the premises, but instead of cracking down on harmless marijuana smoke or underage drinking, the police truly embrace their role of being peacekeepers and stay out of the way, but provide security through their passive presence. I am convinced that an after hours park like this in the States would be a disaster. Frat boys who came down from Lleras frustrated they will not wake up to two silicon pillows would fight, police would harass and write tickets, teenagers would over drink and vomit, and the park would get condemned as a cesspool of sin by the upper middle class neighbors. In Colombia though it is a safe, fun and at times even an educational alternative (or compliment) to loud discotecas and late night drunk driving.

This trip, without the company of my Gringo cohorts, I find myself sticking to the Salsa bars and Parque Periodista in my neighborhood in the Centro. This park is to Parque Poblado what Parque Poblado is to Lleras; the slightly more alternative, uglier, cousin. A cloud of low grade marijuana smoke hovers over the park at all times, and if it weren’t for the contrasting odor of urine brought on by a bathroom-less hot spot, I could probably smell weed from my balcony. The style is the US equivalent of Emo rockers, but there music taste hasn’t evolved past liking the once popular 90’s indy-rock and hating the current Colombian or American pop. Dropping hip names of up and coming Euro bands is fruitless, but say you hate Shakira and you are golden. The crowd borders on sketchy, and your typical upper-middle class Paisa would think I am crazy for avoiding a $3.00 cab ride to Lleras, but the education level, laid back style, and insightful conversations make it a culturally interesting hang out for this trip.

Trying to find my niche in a foreign social scene is always a challenge if not impossibility. Given my American status and white skin, I can play the Lleras game, but would never go to its US equivalent. My left wing view points and education makes Parque Periodista good conversational fun, but again, I wouldn’t hang out with the smart, alternatives druggies under the bridge in the States either. The upper middle class stoner argument could be made for Parque Poblado, an undeniably good argument, but there too I am not quite socially at home and can’t make it my go-to spot. Truthfully, being the “tweener” that I am, I love playing to the extremes of both sides of my social spectrum and feel that I get a broader range of cultural experience than I would if I could identify with a social scene that fits who my American self truly is.