My father, who loved to travel and to walk, would say, “There is no better way to understand a city than to walk its streets.” I listened seldom to my father, but decided to try out his recipe in Bogota, the month-long refuge of an over-the-hill gypsy.
When you walk in Chapinero, a pleasant middleclass district, you see a sign on the sidewalk, Pedestrian Path (Sendero Peatonal). My editorial spirit came up with a more appropriate sign, Path for Gorillas. Only gorillas should be able to negotiate these sidewalks safely and happily.
Gorillas! You think this an overstatement. To say the sidewalk is irregular is an understatement. It is an obstacle course. The surface changes from block to block to surprise the pedestrian, sometimes slippery tiles, sometimes rough undulating cement, and sometimes stone-studded stretches even young gorillas may not enjoy.
The first thing one expects in a sidewalk is its consistency. It should be about the same anywhere. Here variety, the most ferocious variety, is the name of the game. You would imagine a different contractor has designed and laid every 500-yard length of the sidewalk.
Gorillas! You think this an overstatement. To say the sidewalk is irregular is an understatement. It is an obstacle course. The surface changes from block to block to surprise the pedestrian, sometimes slippery tiles, sometimes rough undulating cement, and sometimes stone-studded stretches even young gorillas may not enjoy.
The first thing one expects in a sidewalk is its consistency. It should be about the same anywhere. Here variety, the most ferocious variety, is the name of the game. You would imagine a different contractor has designed and laid every 500-yard length of the sidewalk.
Not satisfied with offering the pedestrian the most incredible diversity, the Chapinero sidewalk is also a veritable trap for the unwary. There are holes, large and small, waiting to suck in your heel or your whole foot: lost tiles, broken cement, dislodged concrete. There are huge iron plates that cover possibly access to utility lines; sometimes they are in place, but at other times they are precariously tilted. I haven’t tried them out, but if you step on them, you might end up in some mysterious netherland, or at least disbalanced and cast on your back.
When the sidewalk ends on a street, you would think there would a gentle slope to let you walk on to the street. You have to search for the slope, for it is almost never aligned with the sidewalk. When you find it, it is often steep and takes careful negotiation. At other times, it is just not there. You have to jump eight or twelve inches from the sidewalk onto the street and then, on the other side, jump up another eight to twelve inches. It certainly improves your athletic finesse.
When the sidewalk ends on a street, you would think there would a gentle slope to let you walk on to the street. You have to search for the slope, for it is almost never aligned with the sidewalk. When you find it, it is often steep and takes careful negotiation. At other times, it is just not there. You have to jump eight or twelve inches from the sidewalk onto the street and then, on the other side, jump up another eight to twelve inches. It certainly improves your athletic finesse.
What is even more astounding is that large organizations like banks or insurance companies that have offices on a street don’t just build their edifices, they feel free to modify the sidewalk in front of their office. You are walking and you suddenly find yourself having to climb a series of steps to reach a platform and then climb down another series of steps to get back on the sidewalk. I have seen elderly people panting up the steps, just to be able to reach the next street corner. Probably, the company that mutilated the sidewalk is surreptitiously trying to make the older population more exercise-prone and athletic.
A broad swath of the sidewalk is sometimes marked out for bicyclists. I am all for bicycles and environmental awareness. But I am also for ordinary mortals who walk instead of riding plain or sophisticated, power-driven bicycles. Given the narrow sidewalks, the generous allowance for cyclists seems a stepmotherly view of hapless pedestrians. I have tried walking on the remnant of the sidewalk and found myself forced to intrude into the cyclists’ territory, simply because in some places the remaining sidewalk is covered by rubbish awaiting collection or equipment of a construction crew.
A broad swath of the sidewalk is sometimes marked out for bicyclists. I am all for bicycles and environmental awareness. But I am also for ordinary mortals who walk instead of riding plain or sophisticated, power-driven bicycles. Given the narrow sidewalks, the generous allowance for cyclists seems a stepmotherly view of hapless pedestrians. I have tried walking on the remnant of the sidewalk and found myself forced to intrude into the cyclists’ territory, simply because in some places the remaining sidewalk is covered by rubbish awaiting collection or equipment of a construction crew.
Yes, a gorilla might find it easier to ignore the varying ups-and-downs of the sidewalk, hop over the big and small holes that endanger the human passerby and easily rise and sink with the steps set by a thoughtless bank, but its girth will have a hell of a challenge giving a pass to the speeding cyclists by slinking to the narrow strip left for the pedestrians.
Unlike my native city, Washington, Bogota, despite its many varied restaurants, innumerable and inexpensive, does not seem to have many obese people. Thank heavens, I can pass by normal-sized citizens even on the narrow stretch of the sidewalk that the city allows me. I feel like bowing in salutation, for I admire their energy and forbearance in daily using a sidewalk that is unsuitable for humans and gorillas alike.
My father was probably right to say that walking is a good way to find out about a city. Bogota, full to gills with pleasant, friendly and thoughtful people, has a thoughtless administration that cares little for ordinary beings that go about their life and trade by walking on streets meant only for cars, and perhaps for cycles, but certainly not for ordinary humans. It is a city that smacks of an oligarchic bent, signaling it cares only for its well-heeled car drivers and has little thoughts for its simple pedestrians.
Unlike my native city, Washington, Bogota, despite its many varied restaurants, innumerable and inexpensive, does not seem to have many obese people. Thank heavens, I can pass by normal-sized citizens even on the narrow stretch of the sidewalk that the city allows me. I feel like bowing in salutation, for I admire their energy and forbearance in daily using a sidewalk that is unsuitable for humans and gorillas alike.
My father was probably right to say that walking is a good way to find out about a city. Bogota, full to gills with pleasant, friendly and thoughtful people, has a thoughtless administration that cares little for ordinary beings that go about their life and trade by walking on streets meant only for cars, and perhaps for cycles, but certainly not for ordinary humans. It is a city that smacks of an oligarchic bent, signaling it cares only for its well-heeled car drivers and has little thoughts for its simple pedestrians.
RSS Feed