My meeting with Escobar

“I, I… I’ve already explained everything to you. I shouldn’t be here at all. Yesterday I gave a lecture at the Caribbean coast. And today I’m on my way home to Europe. Please believe me. It’s a coincidence that I ended up in Medellin. And I don’t know why I met the Escobar family. Okay, I have no alibi and there are no witnesses. But I have nothing to do with those people. I am innocent…” This is probably how I would have justified myself if the Colombian police would have questioned how intensively I would maintain my contacts with the Escobar family.

Actually I only flew to Colombia to hold a speech at a communication science conference in Cartagena in 2017. And a return flight from Colombia to Europe is only possible by detouring. My stopover was: Medellin. I had 24 hours. For me, that meant exploring favelas. And eat well. Of course, I knew that Medellin was once the most dangerous city in the world and the residence of Pablo Escobar. But there were no official memorials of the mass murderer, bloodthirsty drug lord and the seventh richest person in the world according to the US magazine Forbes. Of course. Because the “most innovative city in the world” – awarded in 2012 by the US magazine Wall Street Journal – is still making great efforts in getting rid of the image of the former global cocaine trade capital from the 80s and 90s.

Now there are private tours by self-appointed insiders. Business is booming with the famous drug lord. At least since the Netflix series “Narcos” the admiration for the figure Pablo Escobar has taken on iconographic signs. When I landed in Medellin, I just heard that the cocaine king was buried at the Montesacro cemetery. But a tombstone? No. I was interested in city life. And the center was even crazier than how loud it was. So crazy, that people continue to kill eagerly. 600 murders per year in Medellin. But that’s nothing to worry about if you’re tourist. That’s the drug gangs’ business. Taxi rides could be more adventurous…

Not that the taxi driver would had asked me where I’d like to go. No. On the contrary. Without being asked first of all he showed me obscene photos of prostitutes and laughed out loud. Only then we could drive off. In his direction. Of course. He also showed little interest in the traffic in front of us. I was not surprised that he had to tell me then personal short stories about all these pictures. And gesticulated enthusiastically. Yes I had to interrupt him before I was finally able to tell him that I wanted to go to the favelas with the red brick houses. “How stupid. Why the favelas? Come on, I’ll take you to the Escobar’s home.”

According to him it should be a museum and it’s located just around the corner in Las Palmas area. Funny. I didn’t know about it. Then he drove up a steep way through a pine forest and stopped in front of a blue entrance gate. Well, if I’m here now, I’ll take a look at it. I wanted to ask the taxi driver about his price now. But instead he shows me again two naked women on his smartphone and laughed out loud. Then he drove away. Weirdo.

I knocked. The fence was 3-4 meters high. Decorated with broken glass. A friendly lady unlocked the door. In the courtyard behind was a small house. “This is Pablo Escobar’s house.” I had to laugh. That’s a joke! Completely unspectacular. Then she asked me to pay the price for a purchased tour: 35 US $. To highlight a comparison: I slept for 5 US $ tonight and I paid 2 US $ for a 3-course lunch menu. A rip off! Not even a museum sign. Could be any house. I’m leaving. “Wait a minute. Have a coffee with my father.” Okay. Coffee always works. In Colombia. A little later her father came and brought a guest book. Indeed, people from all over the world commented enthusiastically about this tour. Okay. My time in Medellin was limited anyway. I take the tour.

Already after the first few minutes the guidance got paid off for me. First, the nice lady showed me the armored getaway car from Pablo Escobar with several bullet holes. We carried on with the original jet ski from a James Bond movie. With a vehicle camouflaged as a police car, they were freeing once a friend directly from prison in a police station. Unbelievable! Also a classic car from Frank Sinatra is here. One of the most important artists of US American history is said to have been the gateway for Escobar’s cocaine supply of the Hi Society in the US.

Something wasn’t right with the tour. Because in every single Escobar story the lady referred to her uncle and her father. My Spanish was not that good that I was able to understand everything. So I was asking: “Excuse me, but who is your uncle again?” – “Pablo Escobar. And this is his brother. My father.“ At that moment, the small skinny 70-year-old man with whom I was drinking a coffee before came out: Roberto Escobar. This gave me a chill. I was standing now in front of one of the most wanted criminals of the 20th century. On the other hand. There couldn’t be any better expert for my tour.

Mr. Escobar told me that the only possessions the government has not taken yet away from him was that bungalow, from where you had a direct view to the airport in the valley. “Pablo owned hundreds of houses in Medellin. Sometimes there was no electricity throughout the city at night. Then you knew: it was important.” Proudly he talks about their friendship with Frank Sinatra. Another photo shows him with his brother Pablo in front of the White House in Washington D.C.. Next to it was a photo with football icon Carlos Valderrama. At that time Pablo Escobar massively promoted Colombian football, whereupon Atletico Nacional Medellin won the South American Copa Libertadores in 1989.

Just you shouldn’t ask Osito, the little bear, wrong questions. Because then, among other things, he began to curse loudly about the Netflix series “Narcos“, that he had sued for a billion dollars. Roberto Escobar joined his brother’s cartel not before the 1980’s. Before that, he studied chemistry and electrical engineering. Was a South American champion with the Colombian cycling team and he bred horses.

Until he started as an accountant to take care of the family money. And that was a lot of work. Roberto used to manage the drug money together with financial experts and parked it at properties, real estate and global bank accounts. El Osito could only calm down when I asked the right questions about “El Patron”. Pablo. The man who financed social housing for the poorest, schools and hospitals. Who built office buildings, zoos and discos, invested in sports and was able to travel legally to the US as a politician with a diplomatic passport.

In 1991, Pablo Escobar let Colombian officials arrest him in order to avoid an extradition order from the United States. Ironically he was taken to his self-built luxury prison. But still, it soon became uncomfortable for him and left. In 1993 a bounty of 10 million US $ was placed on both Pablo Escobar and the man next to me. Roberto told me that his brother ordered him to surrender to the police in order to survive. “I did that.” A little later, Pablo Escobar was killed by a Colombian special command in Medellin. “What a lie! 3 days before his death Pablo told me in person on this table here that he would kill himself with a head shot. He would have never allowed traitors to murder him.” 20,000 people attended the funeral.

Roberto Escobar was imprisoned for 14 years. Nowadays he squeezes money from the distorted myth of the Escobar brothers. He is almost blind in one eye because a letter bomb exploded in his hands when he used to be in prison. “It was the government.” He’s still afraid of old rivals, he tells me. When he opened the museum some vengeful enemies came and almost killed him. He showed me the bullet holes in the window and on the sofa. Since then, everything has been recorded by video. Bodyguards are here. And I’m wondering how could I drift off into such social circles…