I sit down at the dining room table as the scent of coconut rice wafts through the air. Here, they don’t waste the burnt rice at the bottom of the pot, they call it cucallo, and it’s the best combination of crunch and taste. I serve some on my plate and go forth with the fried fish patties beautifully laid on the table. It had been two years since I had been in Colombia, five since I had lived here, and frankly never had I lived specifically in Cartagena. I let my senses indulge in the wonderful aroma of Colombia cuisine, and abruptly, my ears perk up as music drifts from outside our balcony, invading our lunchtime with a lively cadence of trumpets, drums, maracas, and guacharacas. For a moment, I didn’t think twice about this. Music in Colombia, and especially on the Northern coast, is ingrained in the DNA of all those who live here. Suddenly, I come back to myself and start thinking. We are in quarantine. Establishments are only recently reopening, many children are still studying at home, and COVID-19 cases are on the rise. I peeked my head out from my balcony and observed a small band of musicians on the side walk, all socially distant with their masks on looking up at the buildings, sharing their beautiful renditions of popular songs ranging from La Cucaracha to a melodic Porro. Despite the masks, I could see their eyes straining with smiles as they gestured towards me and towards the other inquisitive neighbors that had emerged from their forced hibernation.
“Aplausos, mi gente!” One of the leading singers bellowed, and a few people clapped enthusiastically. How quaint, I thought, This only happens here, in the place where music is a synonym with life and joy. I turn back towards the table where my hot lunch is waiting and start to reflect upon the true origins of this surprising symphony. They are now the jobless musicians of Cartagena, going from apartment building to apartment building, roaming streets and begging for money through their songs. Before the COVID-19 quarantine, many people commissioned said musicians to their gatherings, parties, dinners, and events. After all, they did add life and culture to any situation but when the country shut down, the musicians lost all sources of income.
As I sit and enjoy my privileged lunch, these people are out on the streets looking for money in any way they can given that their normal jobs have been taken away from them due to the pandemic. It saddens me deeply to see that nothing is being done to help these resilient and underrepresented entrepreneurs. Of course, people here and there contribute donations to the nomadic band, but this is not enough for them to provide for their families, much less to do so for extended amounts of time. We complain about being stuck at home, about having to work and study while being confined to four monotonous walls, but imagine what it is like not being able to afford being stuck at home. You are not trapped by quarantine, you are hostage to your financial situation, not being able to leave your house, but having to in order to eat. This is not exclusive to the gleeful melancholy of the bands, but also to the fruit peddlers who pass by my window every morning bellowing,
“Aguacaaaateesssss, Naraaaanjassss, Mandarinaaaasss.”
And every time I hear those calls, my heart drops a little deeper in my chest.
We tend to notice the problems that are immediately obvious to us. The fact that we can’t leave our house, our moral obligation to wear masks, social distance, and even the closing down of restaurants and movie theaters, but the informal economy is also being shaken down to its core. Third World Countries like Colombia deeply rely on the informal economy as it is based on people coming up with creative ways to earn a steady income; however, with it being informal, it is harder to support when crises like these arise. Now, every afternoon I hear the distant echoes of a paradoxical symphony that showcases joyous tunes but is presented with deep necessity. It is time that we trust each other again, that we hope our neighbors are compassionate enough to follow the safety recommendations without intrinsically mining away the livelihood of hundreds of people. The pandemic has not, and will not disappear for some time. Still, as members of a community, we have to unite under the purpose of keeping each other safe, while also leaving space for people to continue working and supporting their families.
Written By: Carolina Mejia Rodriguez
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