Sean Slavin Photography

The days pass and I realize that I haven’t stepped foot out of the hotel since my arrival. Not because I haven’t wanted to or that someone told me I shouldn’t. There just hasn’t been time. My only glimpse of the outside world has been from my room and the wall of glass in the gym. We wrap up for the day and I fly upstairs to change and grab a camera. It’s time for a walk. I need to get out and see the neighborhood.

I head up the street snapping photos along the way. Traffic is amazing. The architecture of the buildings is very modern. Security guards posted at every entrance. Federales at each corner. A few blocks down, I realize that one of them is tailing me from across the street.

I turn the corner and head up a small hill. At the top, it’s much busier. Buses rumble by. Delivery guys on small motorcycles zip through traffic. A constant stream of vehicles spill out of the parking garages from the high rises. It’s well after six and the construction site is still going strong. The clanging of the pile driver echoes through the buildings.

I head back down the hill and through something that may at one time been considered a park. The trees are now dying and grass is burnt. Taxi drivers mill about. On the corner is an english pub, hearty laughter drifts out the doors and onto the street.
Across the street, the favored addict hang out, Starbucks, is packed with people. I stop and listen, picking up very little, wondering where my Spanish skills had gone.

Another block, another amazing piece of architecture. I snap a few photos and I hear someone yelling at me, “No photos! No photos!” A young kid, too young to be wearing a gun, is running towards me, waving his arms. I smile, shrug and nod. A block later, he’s still following me.

I pass a dry cleaners, the man and woman behind the counter arguing in machine gun fire Spanish. I have no hope of keeping up. Next door is an Indian restaurant. Two chefs sit outside sharing a cigarette. Just inside the door, waiters are idle, gossiping and laughing. The pharmacia is next. Three delivery motorcycles parked at the curb.

I head back to the hotel. From my room, I look down on the traffic. It’s thinning but still going strong. I’m amazed that I haven’t seen a wreck at the intersection.