Cuaderno de Colombia: Medellin's Metro System: Mobile but Miserable

 Subheading: The difference between Bogota's Transmilenio transport system resignation compared to Medellin's Metro-made rush, and what this could teach us about how transport systems aid or hinder a sense of neoliberal isolation during the daily commute

Despite being Colombia’s capital city, Bogotá still doesn’t have its own functioning metro system. One is currently being built, but it’s not set to be complete until 2028 — it's still uncertain whether that’s Colombian time or the more typical Gregorian Calendar. 

Instead, the city relies on Transmilenio buses which function a bit like a metro, operating on designated lanes rather than tracks, in a city without the appropriate infrastructure. Technically, the Transmilenio is considered one of the fastest ways to traverse this Colombian metropolis — apart from a motorbike willing to make risky manoeuvres between cars and buses driven by people who all seem to have remembered different parts of the Highway Code. However, even by Transmilenio you should expect an average journey to take around 2 hours. 

In many ways, a comparison between Bogotá and my own country’s capital city London feels apt. Both are working cities with the majority of inhabitants only able to afford to live on the peripheries. Both have districts designated to accommodate specific trades and commerce. Avenida Chile echoes Canary Wharf for finance, The Zona Rosa is essentially Chelsea, or better still, Covent Garden if you’re looking for boutiques, and Bogotá’s Free Trade Zone is the heart of the city’s manufacturing industry, kind of like London’s Park Royal. 

What sets Bogotá apart from London, then, where the renowned London tube is efficient but antisocial, and the people on commute are entitled and rude, is that everyone just seems to have resigned themselves to this element of delay within Bogotano culture. 

What’s the point in getting annoyed by rush hour, or aggravated that you could spend up to 5 hours a day sitting in back-to-back traffic jams just to get to work or school, when instead you could aprovechar (make the most of) the time by reading, watching TikToks, or even sleeping? The result is that no one gets enough sleep and most people seem to retreat into their homes during the weekends to recover. Nevertheless, no one seems to have the atrevimiento (audacity) to believe that their journey is more important than anyone else’s. 

Couple this with the concept of hora Colombiana, where everything happens slightly after it’s supposed to, and while this doesn’t necessarily make people more social in transit, it does create a less stressful environment of resigned togetherness that London is most definitely lacking. That’s what the Transpenine railway line is for after all. 

By contrast, Medellin, often seen as the most European city in Colombia, boasts a fully functioning metro system that can deliver you from one side of the city to another in a mere 20 minutes! Not only that, but the mountainous scenery en route is beautiful and the metros themselves are incredibly clean. The city boasts European architecture, including a terraza culture that is somewhat remiss in Colombia’s greyer capital, delightful galleries, and breathtaking nature. 

The only catch? The people taking the metros seem to be in far more of a rush in Medellin than in Bogotá. My theory? This is because they have the means to be. 

When comparing these two major cities, it’s Medellin rather than Colombia’s capital which is often criticised for increasing rent prices and catastrophic gentrification which forces the original inhabitants out of the city. Although the reason for this is multifaceted, it’s generally agreed that the number of Digital Nomads from richer countries who buy properties in Medellin in order to have a lower cost of living are part of the problem. 

For many of the Paisas (people from Medellin and the surrounding regions) who have been forced out of the city and into the surrounding and far-reaching slums, a Metro Cable was built in 2004. Now, the city boasts 6 different Metro Cable lines, the majority of which are used in the daily commutes of working-class people living in neighbourhoods such as Santo Domingo Savio or Bello Oriente. 

Unlike the majority of commuters who travel up and down the Metro Cable lines each day, those taking the metro generally tend to be people living closer to the city centre. This includes Colombian locals, of course, but also a large proportion of the city’s population of Digital Nomads, many of whom Colombians will unlovingly call ‘gringos’. That is, anyone who doesn’t look like they’re from here and are most likely, or at least seem to be, American. The other one. 

The elephant in the room, of course, is why are the digital nomads rushing? Surely they work from home, that’s kind of part of the problem. Where could they possibly be rushing to that would negate any chance of a slight retraso (delay) inducing interaction? And yet, like in London, they do. 

In this case then we must ask the following: To what extent does a city’s transport system contribute to the outlook of its workers/inhabitants? And is it more important to arrive somewhere quickly (but antisocially), or to enjoy your longer commute with a sense of calm? 

What’s more, with Bogota’s own metro system currently under construction and set to be open for use in 2028, is Colombia’s capital to be subjected to the same neoliberal afán (rush) that taints Medellin’s efficient urban environment? 

While Bogotá’s traffic jams cause more severe delays in everyday life, the time spent in transit forges a greater sense of ideological mobilisation between the people using it. Therefore perhaps longer journeys, as frustrating as they may be, could actually teach us some important lessons about community and solidarity. This could be useful to keep in mind when we’re packed like sardines into London tubes or on Medellin’s metro.