This summer, I spent 10 weeks abroad in the City of Eternal Spring, Medellín, Colombia. During this time, my days varied greatly, but one thing remained consistent: nearly every day began and ended on the metro. The metro took me everywhere I needed to go and everywhere I wanted to be. On lucky days, I found a seat; on others, I was packed tightly among fellow commuters. Some mornings, I boarded yawning and weary, longing to still be in bed. Other mornings, I could hardly contain my excitement about the day ahead. In the evenings, I frequently boarded feeling exhausted, struggling to keep my eyes open. From time to time, I was drenched from the unpredictable rain that no weather app could forewarn. Sometimes, I boarded with a smile on my face; other times, with tears in my eyes. I often think that if anyone could tell the story of my time abroad better than I could, it would be the metro—if only it could speak.

Medellín Metro Rail

The Medellín Metro has been the gateway to many great adventures in the city, while also reliably ensuring my safe arrival to my Loewenstern Placement on workdays. My commute this summer was quite extensive. It began with a Metro bus ride to the rail station, followed by a 10-stop journey on Line A through the heart of the city. After disembarking, a short walk took me to the office. Of course, I always made sure to stop by the nearby bakery for breakfast before heading into work. I had a fantastic experience working with my placement at Pygmalion Tech. My primary responsibilities involved developing two Python courses: one designed to introduce students to programming and another aimed at teaching adults the basics of data science. These projects were a great opportunity for me to refine my skills and improve my ability to communicate complex ideas effectively, which was both challenging and deeply rewarding. I found that my lengthy commute provided the perfect time to brainstorm and revise my course content. On several occasions, I rushed from the metro to work to jot down the plethora of ideas that I feared I would forget.

Bakery Near My Placement

Beyond facilitating my daily commutes, the Medellín Metro also marked the start and end of many adventures. One of the most memorable was the long and winding bus ride to the trailhead of a popular hike in the Medellín countryside. I vividly recall struggling to keep my balance while standing on the moving bus, gripping the support bars with all my might, and doing my best to avoid falling onto the strangers who would soon become friends. Thanks to social media, I was able to connect with a group of locals who organized weekly excursions and joined them for my first hike on the outskirts of Medellín. We met at one of the Metro rail stops and traveled together to the trailhead. During our hike to El Chorro de las Campanas, the breathtaking waterfall that was our ultimate destination, I enjoyed wonderful conversations with my new companions. This experience was one of the first that made me feel less isolated in Medellín, the warmth of the people was quite different from the chill of the waterfall. Swimming in the refreshing waters was a soul-cleansing experience, and that evening, I boarded the metro rail, covered in mud, exhausted, but so incredibly happy.

El Chorro de las Campanas

Another adventure the metro facilitated was my journey to Comuna 13, a neighborhood in Medellín with a complex yet inspiring history. Once considered the most dangerous part of the city due to paramilitary, guerrilla, and gang violence, it has now become one of the city’s most popular tourist attractions, celebrated for its powerful and historical street art. I was fortunate to take a tour with a local resident who had lived in Comuna 13 his entire life. He shared his personal experiences of living through the area’s tumultuous past and narrated the remarkable transformation of the community through creativity. Visiting this historically rich area and hearing from a local so proud of his neighborhood’s evolution was an incredibly eye-opening experience.

Comuna 13

A unique experience the Medellín Metro offers is the metro cable system. Two of these cables serve as the main transportation to another one of Medellín’s top attractions, Parque Arví. The views from the metro cables are breathtaking, offering a stunning panorama of Medellín as you ascend higher and higher. However, they are not for the faint of heart—the cables go so high that your ears start to pop. Parque Arví itself is a stunning escape from the city, though in a city as vibrant as Medellín, it’s hard to imagine wanting to escape. I spent hours sitting in silence by the running water and dipping my feet in the streams of Parque Arví. I loved it so much that I brought a few Loewenstern fellows back with me.

Parque Arví

Of my countless experiences on the metro, my greatest memory is one of simply standing in the metro rail car on the night of July 10th. There was nothing extraordinary about this night, yet everything was special. When I hopped onto the train that evening, I was immediately brought to tears. I looked around, and almost everyone on that train was wearing the same color—a bright yellow that was hard to look at for too long, but even harder to look away from. The shirts had touches of blue and red, all jerseys for the Colombian national soccer team who were playing that night in the Copa America games, with their fate of reaching the final on the line.

The sight made me emotional in ways I couldn’t fully explain. To put it simply, I was wearing the same colors, the same jersey, and in that moment, I felt a profound connection to this community, sharing their excitement, pride, and joy for the national team. I was on my way to watch the game, hoping for a victory for Colombia. Although I had never been a huge soccer fan, I found myself deeply invested in this team’s success. I am Mexican to the core, but that night I was all in for Colombia.

Being surrounded by such a passionate community made it impossible not to cry. I would not trade my time on the metro for anything in the world, and I am profoundly grateful to have spent a summer in Medellín where these unforgettable moments were made possible for me.

Copa America Watch Party

Arrival into Colombia

As soon as I landed in Bogotá, the reality of being in a country where less than 1% of people speak English quickly set in. The fact that just about everything was labeled in Spanish added to my initial nervousness, and the size of the El Dorado airport, one of the largest in South America, didn’t help either. However, this nervousness was quickly eased by the friendly driver who picked me up. This car ride was my first real experience speaking exclusively Spanish, and after we introduced ourselves for a bit, he asked if I had ever heard of Vallenato. Admitting that I hadn’t, he then introduced me to some of his favorite music, Vallenato being a traditional genre from northern Colombia where he was from.

Unrefrigerated Eggs and Milk in Carulla (kind of like a Colombian Whole Foods)

The next morning before our meeting with the community partner, Meghan Paral (the other Loewenstern Fellow in Bogotá) and I decided to do some quick grocery shopping, where I was surprised to see that eggs and milk weren’t refrigerated. The first of many interesting differences between the US and Colombia. Later that day, at Pontificia Universidad Javeriana, which was the community partner we’d be working with, our mentor Dr. Diego Patiño explained the tasks and goals for this summer placement. He also encouraged us to use long weekends and holidays to explore Colombia and gave us a lot of flexibility, allowing us to develop the project how we wanted as well as visit many parts of the country.

The kind family that took me and Meghan out for dinner

I did feel a little homesick in the beginning, especially knowing I would be in Colombia for the next several months. Luckily, these feelings disappeared pretty quickly by staying connected to my family through FaceTime calls and sending pictures to them just about every day. The busy schedule of working on the project, preparing and submitting my medical school applications, and exploring the country definitely helped a lot as well. A couple of days after landing, we decided to visit the Museo del Oro in Bogotá. There, we met a group of professors from a local university who kindly recommended places to visit and things to do in the city. Later that day at the museum, I saw an Indian family and decided to strike up a conversation about what brought them to Colombia. They said they loved traveling and had explored much of South America, and we had a great time talking about their past travels and future plans in Colombia. A couple of days later, they treated me and Meghan to dinner, which was really nice of them. This was just the beginning of many such great encounters throughout the trip.

Kuisa

Riding on the roof of a pickup truck on the way from Kuisa to Riohacha

In the small village of Kuisa, located in the La Guajira District of Colombia, lies a school that PUJ Bogotá is working with to introduce various technologies, such as solar panels and access to computers and tablets. Traveling there was an adventure in itself. The journey involved a plane ride from Bogotá to Riohacha, followed by a four-hour car ride to Uribia, the indigenous capital of Colombia, and another four-hour drive on dirt “roads” to Kuisa. During our first trip back, we experienced a flat tire, causing us to arrive at the airport just 20 minutes before our flight’s departure. On our second trip, there was a lack of space in the pickup truck since there were a lot of things stored in the truck bed, so some of us rode on the roof. The unexpectedness eventually became something to expect.

Sunset in Kuisa

In Kuisa, our days started early with the sun rising around 5:30 am, and we had breakfast around 6:30 am before the school day, which usually ran from 7:00 am until 12:30 pm. After lunch, nearly everyone would take a nap, a practice I grew to enjoy. There also weren’t any beds, instead everyone used hammocks. Afternoons were spent either talking with the teachers to better understand the schooling system or exploring the area around Kuisa with the kids, which included a nice trip to the nearby lagoon. We’d have dinner after sundown, and due to the scarcity of clean water, we often drank chicha (a fermented corn drink) or bottled soda. I probably drank more Coca-Cola in those weeks than I had in my entire life.

Laguna De Kuisa and surrounding mountains

At the school in Kuisa, we conducted various workshops and activities. Our first visit was fortunate to have internet connectivity, but by our second visit, the internet tower had broken, and they weren’t sure when it would be repaired. Thankfully, the previous Loewenstern Fellow, Caleb Huang, had downloaded several interactive science and math tools that didn’t require internet access. These tools were a hit with the students, many of whom had never used computers before. Watching their faces light up as they explored these new tools was incredibly rewarding, and some students enjoyed them so much that they even asked to use the computers during their free periods. We also hosted workshops about teamwork for the younger students, one of which was a competition to see which team could build the tallest tower using straws. They seemed to enjoy this a lot, and the candy we brought as prizes added to their enjoyment.

Learning about the indigenous Wayuu culture was another highlight for me. During our second visit, Señor Adelco, who is the leader of the community, taught me about the traditional Wayuu religion. He shared that the lagoon and mountains around Kuisa were believed to contain spirits, and it was common practice to make offerings to promote prosperity. Although he mentioned that everyone in Kuisa is Catholic, these were some of the ancient beliefs of his culture. As a religion major, this conversation was particularly meaningful to me. Drawing parallels between this form of spirit veneration with Shinto in Japan and various tribal faiths in India deepened my appreciation for indigenous religions.

Exploring Colombia

Visiting Cartagena with Melissa and Alec (the Loewenstern Fellows placed in Medellín)

Exploring Colombia outside Bogotá and Kuisa was just as enriching as my experiences in those places. I had the opportunity to visit several major cities, each with its own unique charm, including Medellín, the coastal cities of Cartagena, Barranquilla, and Santa Marta, as well as Riohacha.

In Medellín, I had the chance to spend several days with the Quillacinga and Los Pastos indigenous groups, and learning about their traditional medicine was fascinating. The tribe’s deep understanding of nature was evident as each tree and plant had a particular use, and they’d just pick fruits off the trees to share them with me. Their extensive knowledge of natural remedies and their connection to the environment was truly inspiring, giving me an insight into the way humans have lived for thousands of years. Traveling to Cartagena and the nearby cities, Meghan and I met with Melissa and Alec, the other Loewenstern fellows who flew in from Medellín. In these coastal cities, the vibe was completely different, and we spent a lot of time visiting the beach and late-night bar hopping.

Looking over the city of Bogotá from the summit of Monserrate

One of my favorite activities during our travels was climbing mountains. I climbed Monserrate in Bogotá several times, Cerro de las Tres Cruces in Medellín, and a random mountain near Kuisa, guided by the local kids. This mountain in Kuisa, referred to as Uchi, was particularly challenging to climb since there was no path like the other mountains, just clearings between the thorny bushes and cacti. The views from the tops of all of them were breathtaking, and I would spend upwards of an hour or two just listening to music and enjoying the natural beauty from there.

Everywhere we went, I noticed that people were pretty curious about my background. When I mentioned I lived in the United States, the follow-up question was almost always, “But where are you really from?” I actually liked it a lot because it was a way to share my Indian culture. Many people were fascinated by the food that Indians ate, and when I told them that 30% of the country is vegetarian, they were pretty surprised. Sharing Indian music with the locals was also a joy, and I was surprised to see just how pervasive Indian culture was. In the big cities, there were always Indian restaurants, but even in the village of Kuisa, one of the school teachers liked watching Indian TV shows dubbed in Spanish, and Señor Adelco was looking at Facebook on his phone when I was pleasantly surprised to hear a song from the famous Bollywood movie “3 Idiots.”

Homemade Coconut Egg Curry

I liked exploring Colombian cuisine, from meals like Ajiaco, Sancocho, and Mojarra to street food like Patacones con Queso, Arepas, Obleas, Limonada de Coco, and mangos with lemon and salt. I did cook a decent amount too, and the affordability of produce encouraged me to cook even more. I often cooked salmon since it was easy to make, and when I craved Indian food, I’d make egg curry using fresh coconuts. Cracking open the coconut and using the stove to separate the inside from the shell was always fun. Near where we were staying in Bogotá’s Zona G, there was also a lot of international cuisine, so we often went out for sushi, Indian food, burgers and pizza, Greek food, and so, so many desserts.

Lunch with students and faculty from Rice University and PUJ Bogotá, including Dr. César Uribe and Dr. Diego Patiño

Conclusion

Reflecting on my time in Colombia, I understand how profoundly this experience has impacted me. From the busy cities of Colombia to the serene village of Kuisa, every encounter deepened my appreciation for different peoples’ ways of life. The challenges faced throughout my time here, such as missing flights, dealing with dietary restrictions, the scarcity of water in Kuisa and the water being shut off weekly in our apartment, and the intermittent internet access, were all surpassed by innumerable positives. Babysitting and playing with Kashi, Señor Adelco’s granddaughter, teaching bird calls to the kids in La Guajira, stargazing in Kuisa, seeing the football games being streamed on every TV in the apartment building across the street in Bogotá, enjoying the amazing fruits and food, and most importantly meeting all the wonderful people here made this journey truly unforgettable. The level of independence I gained and learning to embrace the situation when things didn’t go my way were just some of the many takeaways for me as I spent my summer in this beautiful country. As I move forward, I carry these lessons I’ve learned and the memories I’ve made, grateful for the chance to immerse myself in Colombia’s vibrant and diverse culture.

Siddhant and I arrived in Colombia on the 21st of May with a struggling knowledge of Spanish, clothes for every season, and an acceptable amount of trepidation for the coming summer. It was our first time setting foot on the South American continent, and I was insufficiently prepared to be unprepared for all that I didn’t know.

Our community partner, Pontificia Universidad Javeriana, has been wonderful and gracious, offering us the opportunity to self-direct our project with the school Nuestra Señora del Carmen Zona de Kuisa in La Guajira. We were granted an amount of agency over everything from the schedules of our working hours to our travels that I had never experienced before. At first, the idea of such independence, as someone who greatly appreciates structure, was nerve-wracking; however, the more we tested the waters of spontaneity and self-sufficiency, the easier and more enjoyable it became.

The stars in Kuisa – notice: what looks like the setting sun is actually the moon! It’s unbelievably bright without urban light pollution.

Last week, we traveled for the second time to the community of Kuisa in rural La Guajira, Colombia. This requires a flight from Bogotá to the city of Riohacha, a four-hour drive from Riohacha to Uribia, and another four-hour drive from the nearest urban center of Uribia to Kuisa. At night, the absence of light pollution means the multitude of stars are indescribable, creating a startlingly beautiful backdrop to an already awe-inspiring setting of mountains and desert vegetation. One afternoon, Siddhant suggested climbing the nearest mountain, and on that whim, we set off on a three-hour hike to climb a mountain on the horizon without a trail.

The view from atop the mountain – In Wayuunaiki, the language spoken by the Wayuu people, mountain is uchi

Sure, I was impaled by a few cacti along the way, but it was more than worth it. The walk there, stopping every so often to see a new bird or lizard, hearing about Wayuu culture from the kids who came along, and sitting atop the boulders implanted in the side of the mountain, overlooking the “trail” or lack thereof that we’d taken to get there. It was, I think, a cumulative metaphor of all that had occurred during our experience in Colombia, although I didn’t realize it at the time. We were, more or less, hiking without a trail this whole summer. There had been challenging situations and periods of discomfort, and yet, I found myself sitting at the top of the mountain more adaptable and comfortable with the discomfort – grateful, in one way or another – for every experience.

That being said, I do think that one thing in particular helped me stay grounded in the midst of lacking a certain structure that I had become accustomed to back home: birds! Colombia, you may be aware,

From upper right to bottom left: Eared Dove, Tropical Mockingbird, Scaled Dove, Great Egret, American Flamingo, Vermilion Flycatcher, Rufous Collared Sparrow, Sparkling Violetear

is host to more species of birds than any other country on Earth, at over 1,900. We barely scratched the surface of that incredible quantity, but here are some of the incredible individuals that we did manage to spot:

There’s a lot of joy to be found in seeing a species for the first time, and for that reason, a lot of people search for birds that are endemic to the country that they are visiting. That being said, I think there’s a lot of slept-on happiness to uncover when seeing a bird for the zillionth time in a new location. The house sparrow, for example, can be found in as broad a range as eastern Australia, Argentina, India,

Iceland, South Africa, and, where I associate it with most, my home. That being said, they aren’t particularly common in Colombia, so spotting a perfectly spherical little guy hopping his way across the table in a restaurant in Riohacha took me by surprise. Finding a house sparrow in Riohacha meant finding a little piece of home in Colombia, and, after spending ten weeks abroad, that was a poignant gift.

As our journey in Colombia draws to a close, I am filled with a deep sense of gratitude for the experiences we’ve had and the people we’ve met. The lessons learned, both expected and unexpected, have shaped me in ways I couldn’t have imagined. From the independence and spontaneity we embraced to the natural and avian wonders we discovered, this summer has been an adventure. I leave Colombia with a lot of memories, a newfound appreciation for flexibility, and an enduring connection to a place that, for a brief but impactful time, felt like home.

Thank you to Siddhant for photos!

Hi all! For my post, I made a video that captured a day in my life here in Bogotá, view it here!

I’m currently on my 5th week in Medellín, and it’s been quite an amazing experience so far! When I first arrived here, Medellin was just another city, but after a few weeks of learning and exploration, I’ve realized that this is a very special place with a fascinating history.

El Poblado 

During my first week, I started off by visiting a castle and gardens in the luxurious El Poblado district, known as the commercial center of the city. It was once the house of the physician José Tobón Uribe until 1943 when industrialist Diego Echavarría Misas bought the house for his family. The inside of the castle contained beautiful antiques, paintings, and sculptures and there were panoramic views of the city from the windows. After my visit to the castle, I walked down a hill to the main square and explored the neighborhood. El Poblado was all very manicured—leafy boulevards, shiny malls, lavishly-decorated cafes and hotels. Though, I was told by locals that this did not represent the “real” Medellin—at least, not the city that the majority of the residents lived in.

Comuna 13 

I began to venture more outside of the wealthiest districts of the city. For instance, a couple of my fellow Rice students and I visited Comuna 13, a historically low-income, informal settlement that was originally occupied by rural migrants who had been displaced from their homes. The neighborhood’s residents were often caught in the crossfire between gangs, drug trafficking organizations, guerillas, and paramilitary groups. In the last 20 years, a government-sponsored re-development project and the construction of outdoor escalators has transformed the neighborhood into a safe tourist attraction with very little violence. Today, thousands of people visit Comuna 13 each day to view its colorful graffiti art, which was created by local artists as symbols of hope and resilience in the community. However, one could say that Comuna 13 is no longer the “real” Medellin either—as it is now overrun by souvenir shops and foreign visitors. There is also an argument to be made that the increasing tourism makes the residents of the neighborhood a spectacle—though it has also provided a large boon to the economy, promoting local businesses and the creation of jobs.

MetroCable 

Another memorable experience I’ve had so far is riding the Medellin Metro Cable, a public transportation service and gondola lift system. It was designed to connect low-income communities on the city’s steep hills to the Valley of Aburra, which includes the city center. Before the invention of the Metro Cable, some hillside residents in communities such as Santo Domingo spent nearly 3 hours commuting to work because of the lack of a convenient bus system. When the service began its operations in 2004, the Metro Cable improved the mobility of residents of mountainside communities and massively shortened their commutes to work. Many studies attribute the gondolas to reductions in crime and an increase in economic prosperity in areas near the MetroCable.

There are also spectacular views from the gondolas. From the last stop at Santo Domingo, I was able to see large parts of the city and the Andes mountains in the distance. I also enjoyed being able to look down and see houses, streets, basketball courts, food vendors, and graffiti. It was like getting a little slice of life from a bird’s eye view.

Bike Tour

A couple weeks ago, I decided to sign up for a 4-hour bike tour. It was a chaotic and strenuous ride—but, ultimately, it was incredibly rewarding. First, we biked up Cerro Nutibara, a steep hill in the middle of the city, that left me exhausted and out of breath. Luckily, there was a refreshing coconut drink once we got to the top.

One of my favorite parts of the tour was biking through Downtown, which was a surreal experience, since it was packed to the brim with people. Trying to bike through large crowds, motorcycles, cars, and street vendors was definitely a challenge, though it was a great way to experience the vibrance of the city center. We stopped right outside the main train station for a Colombian snack, and I got to eat this delicious arepa de chocolo, which is basically a fried corn tortilla with cheese on top.

Throughout the tour, I learned a lot about Medellin’s status as one of the world’s most innovative cities that has set many milestones for sustainable design and equitable urban planning in the last 25 years. Recently, miles of cycling lanes were added to streets across the city, including in both low-income and high-income areas. Medellin has also introduced a new initiative called ciclovia, in which they close one of the major roads, Avenida Poblado, on Sundays and open the street up entirely to pedestrians, bikers, and even roller skaters.

Conclusion 

It was interesting to see how perhaps Houston had much to learn from Medellin in terms of public transportation, infrastructure, and sustainable design. Medellin certainly still has a long way to go; in my experience, the bike infrastructure was not perfect—sometimes I was on the road with cars and a few times I had to swerve to avoid potholes—but I would say that it was still better than my biking experience in Houston.

Furthermore, while Medellin still has a significant amount of inequality, it was truly fascinating to see the transformation that the city has undergone only in the last couple decades. The MetroCable and the outdoor escalators, in particular, were some of the best examples of creative and equity-focused public transportation, and were both pretty incredible to witness in-person.

As of writing this, I have just completed my fifth week here in Medellin, Colombia. This experience was transformative, as I have seen remarkable changes within myself. The city itself is vibrant and full of life, with a rich history and culture that I have been eager to explore through museums, events, and restaurants. Of course, some challenges come with living in any new place—language barriers, cultural differences, and navigating unfamiliar streets—that can be daunting at times. But overall, I feel incredibly grateful for this opportunity to immerse myself in a new culture and way of life.

Since this is the first time I have traveled outside the United States without family and the primary language is not English, these stressors caused some pre-travel jitters. For weeks leading up to my flight, I tried to appease my nerves by teaching myself as much about the country as possible before my trip. (This comes from my mother, as we both, or at least try to, overprepare for anything.) I researched everything about the country, the city, and the specific neighborhood that I would be living in for the summer through the internet, social media, and talking to family, friends, and other people who had visited Colombia before. I also listened to more media in Spanish in hopes of easing the transition from primarily speaking English to Spanish outside my house. The measures taken helped me, but they failed to prevent the cumulation of these anxieties and more.

One of the anxieties I struggled with was switching dominant languages. Coming from a monolingual household, I struggled with accepting that no one in my family could help me with this mandatory switch. However, I did my best to prepare for it myself. Despite this, I have experienced some challenges. Some of my speaking anxiety stemmed from my limited vocabulary and not-so-perfect grammar. The limited vocabulary could be fixed by speaking more and learning slang and colloquialisms. However, grammatical issues could only be fixed through practice in speech. At first, my speaking anxiety prevented me from speaking freely. However, I was pleasantly surprised by how understanding people were of my speech. When I could clearly communicate, I marked those times as a little win for myself. Of course, there were times that I accidentally mispronounced a word and/or said a similar-sounding word with a completely different meaning. However, even during those times, the person I was talking to was usually empathetic and spoke clearly so that I could understand.

Though having an empathetic listener is normally the case, this will not always be the case. There would be times when a stutter, hesitation, or even my accent hinted to another person that Spanish wasn’t my primary language. Because of this, the other person would automatically switch to English if they knew, or act annoyed and stop talking to me altogether. For example, during my third week here, I took the wrong bus. It traveled to the downtown area of the city, which is in the opposite direction from where my apartment is located. When I noticed this, I attempted to talk to the bus driver, mentioning my concern about my current location and if the bus would go to my apartment or at least return to the station I entered from. However, the driver started shouting. In the noisy environment, I was unable to completely comprehend what the driver was saying. After two minutes of trying to understand what he was saying, he went quiet and ignored me. (I was eventually informed by a lady on the bus that if I continued sitting on the bus, it would return me to my intended location.)
In either case, I would feel a mix of emotions. I would start to second-guess myself, feel self-conscious about my skills, and begin to clam up. However, soon after those events, I would have to continue forward and push these negative feelings behind me instead of wallowing. These good and bad speaking experiences serve as learning experiences, and I realized early on that I could not just take the good without the bad. To see true progression, I had to embrace my flaws and strengths simultaneously.

Learning that lesson liberated me from the feeling of trying to speak perfect Spanish. Free from that suffocating feeling, I could work to improve myself through everyday conversations with my co-workers and passersby. Through fully embracing this immersive experience, I have gained a more adventurous and confident stature. Now, if there are events I would like to go to, I would go, not allowing my prior anxieties to continue dictating my decisions. I want to take a stroll around the neighborhood. Why not? I want to go to the local theater to watch a new movie. Sure, who is stopping me? (Of course, I would have to consider safety precautions as a solo traveler in these situations.) Contrary to my previous sentiment, which would constantly impede my personal exploration, this new way of thinking allows me to truly enjoy my time here.

Cable Car Experience

Last Train in Medellin

Visiting local universities: UPB

Now that I’m at the halfway point, reflecting on my progression since coming here has served as a great reminder of my personal and professional development. As I look forward to my future weeks here, I plan to keep an open mind and embrace every moment.

Meeting Dr. Cesar Uribe