I was wondering around the city centre for a short while after being with a bunch of guys with whom I exchanged some really interesting ideas regarding so many different topics. 

We touched on the situation in Bogota and the long history of violence that has permitted all across the nation.

We then moved the topic to chatting about graffiti and what it means to each of us. We agreed that style is the key element to standing out in city. It was quite an overwhelming conversation.

Finally, Anthony, one of the guys I was chatting to had just returned from Caracas City in Venezuela. He was there for 18 days all together. Anthony travelled from Bogota by bus all the way to Caracas. That trip took him 30 hours, such a long damn trip to a land inundated with problems…

I was immensely curious to know more about the situation there. I asked him several questions like, what is it like to buy things in the shops? how violent is it? what is the political climate like right now? and so on and so forth.

He said that there was not one day that him and his friends did not feel unsafe. He took an entire wardrobe of clothes with him to wear while he was out there but decided to just wear the same clothes for his entire stay and not flash his phone out in the public, etc..

The streets are clear after 6pm, not a single soul walking around. Tension is a constant and poverty is much more apparent. He said that it’s pretty much like being in a conflict zone. 

He did paint a few streets and other places but I reckon it must be quite a risky act to be wandering the streets at night.

Since my stay in Colombia I have heard so many things about Venezuela that I it makes me pretty intrigued in wanting to visiting the country. In fact, I have been curious about Venezuela for quite a long time.

Anyways, back to the central topic which is Alberto. I bumped into him whilst walking along the 7th avenue; he was resting on a bench in a small plaza. 

I spotted him drinking some kind of soup coming out of a chopped coca cola bottle that did not look  appealing at all. I shot a picture of him conspicuously, but decided that I need to to talk to him in order to get to know get a better picture and legitimately use the image to describe a little bit about his life.

I shook hands with him straight after flicking the camera.

Alberto started telling me about himself and how he ended in Bogota. He is another forcibly displaced person citizen of Colombia.

He was kicked off of his land by the guerrilla in 2010. He used to plant coffee but was offered to grow poppy seeds to which he completely refused to. 

The local municipality or some sort of government official was aware of his situation and gave him the chance to move to Bogota to live. He is currently in his 60’s now although he looks a lot older to me.

He works in the city centre moving a trolley with products he sells, the likes of metal, wheels, fridges or anything that is sellable.

As we were chatting, I noticed a few dodgy individuals surrounding us so I just wanted to be cautious in case they wanted to try and grab my camera and run.

I excused myself for not paying attention to his conversation but I explained the reason. He responded that right were we were, 2 years ago a tourist was taking pictures with a flashy and bulky camera when all of a sudden a guy snapped him off of his device and ran like hell!

On another occasion Alberto was sitting a few meters away from a homeless who was being harassed by a police officer. As soon as the officer walked off the man, the homeless ran towards him, managed to grab his gun and shot the officer to death.

He said that it can be unsafe there but it certainly is not as it used to be. A few years back it was constant robbing all over the place. The notorious street called ‘The Bronx’ ( which was recently cleaned off ) was another place considered a red zone of the city. It was infested with drugs and crime. People used to go there to either buy or consume illegal substances and police officers could not even step in the place. I have watched videos of the street and it was a real sad and depressing a story.

Alberto was once offered to distribute drugs as a job in that area. He decided to speak to the guy who offered him the job opportunity. The pay was not bad but the consequence of not delivering to the boss’s expectations were tough. In the event that he messed up he was shown a pond with some crocodiles and a chainsaw. The boss said that if the money was not there in time, he would be cut in pieces and given to his pets as a dish.

I thanked Alberto for his kind hospitality and asked him if I could take a picture of him as testimony of our encounter . I explained that I would rather photograph people who to me are real monuments that keep the city alive than to take images of literal monuments…

I took off seeking more Colombian experiences and places to photograph…