One of the settings that Italo Calvino conceived in his imaginary dialogue between Marco Polo and Kublai Khan results from two opposing cities coexisting in time and space. One of them is an affluent urban trading post and the other exists in misery and poverty. Yet the cities can only see vague silhouettes of one another. Inhabitants trying to walk from one to the other, after the protracted trip, find themselves in their own city, with their own people. But every now and then the actions in one city echo in the other. Only violence and greed can permeate the invisible barrier that keeps one city in chaos and the other in fear, both remaining unknown and apathetic to the other.

In the early 1980s Medellin gained international notoriety for its linkage to Pablo Escobar, Colombia’s infamous drug lord. His war against the government turned Colombia’s second city into the most dangerous city in the world. His army was engrossed by those internally displaced by the civil war, who settled in the slums of Medellin. This population was disenchanted with the government’s inability to provide and ensure the most basic sustenance needs. Escobar filled this power vacuum and built entire neighborhoods and football fields, thus creating a citizen-coopted support base. This way he deceived the dispossessed into joining the alluring drug business.

After Escobar’s death in 1993 polarization remained, and Medellin’s Cartel fragmented into many organizations seeking to take a portion of the drug fiesta. Rampant violence persisted while the wealth acquired by the educated elite did not trickle down to the more unfortunate sectors of society. The bleak factionalization and atomization in the city was voiced by the inhabitants of Comuna 13, the most violent sector of the city: “We live in this neighborhood,” they said, “not in Medellin.”

Fast-forward 20 years to 2012. Medellin received the prize for most innovative city in the world, granted by the Wall Street Journal and Citi Group. The implementation of modern technology changed the face of the city, shifting its focus onto the road of sustainable development. The most eye-striking symbol of the city’s rebirth is the 6-million-dollar worth, 384-meter escalator connecting Comuna 13 to downtown, replacing an exhausting half an hour uphill trek with a comfortable 6 minute trip.

The escalator integrated the city and now people can reclaim it as theirs.

These escalators create prospects for technology to reduce inequality; however, they also show how the uneven distribution of technology leads to immediate inequality of opportunities. Over the years an array of distance-reducing, time-saving technologies have been developed, for those who are able bear the costs. In Medellin, it took the collaboration of the private and public sector to finally transform the face of the city to embody the needs of the entire population.

The virtues of integrating time and space lie in the fact that public services are more easily accessible. Increased police protection, schooling and health infrastructures aim to reduce both poverty and crime. The separation of spaces, the former exclusion of the popular classes and the fear of the high ones meant that the two cities would never interact as equals, but remain fixed in an unequal laboral relation.

Time reduction means greater flexibility to balance work and household chores, and for women to take care of the children in a society that still values nuclear families greatly. In simple economic terms, the society is better off given the reduced costs and risks of engaging in trade. Most important in the transformation of the city however is the effect the projects play on the psych of the people, encouraging greater civil participation through an increased sense of belonging.

The zonal integration is further aided by the library parks to give an intellectual incentive to the marginalized populations. Architects designed these urban complexes – where the main building is a library surrounded by inviting natural zones – to improve the cultural, intellectual and physical world around the most needed. Besides the latest computational technologies, the fine architecture appeals people to the public areas, creating a safe forum of social interaction.

The existence and conformation to common institutional structures allow for a more empathetic coexistence of the two cities. The sharing of symbols, not only the escalator or the library parks, but the gondolas hovering over the slums or the efficient metro system, unite the people over a common cause, the betterment of their city. Decrease in poverty has reduced the crime rate and in turn, fostered economic growth. The symbols show that the interests of both are not necessarily contradicting, but frequently, mutually beneficial.

Medellin’s transformation has been striking. Over the last 20 years, the murder rate has decreased by more than 80%. Arguably, the city enjoys the most organized public transportation system in Colombia, and is now being promoted internationally for its innovation and industry. Colombiamoda is one of the most engrossing trade platforms in Latin America, and its glamour has attracted international designers from New York and Paris alike. Not to say that Medellin’s problems are over. Disproportionate inequality remains in this unequal city, in this unequal country, in this unequal continent. However, the city’s growth is a testament to positive change: that pre-existing conditions are not determinant in the possibilities for sustainable development—willingness is.

Urban planning and transportation developments made Calvino’s cities see each other for the first time, overlapping in their social interactions, unveiled by the lens of empathy. Curious to meet each other for the first time, citizens of Medellin have become once more tourists in their own city, the former invisible city.

WRITTEN BY CAMILO UCROS

PHOTOS ORIGINALLY POSTED BY ACTION PRESS / REX FEATURES