Red Shoe Musings

The Police Museum

The police museum was GANGSTER. The kit that the Colombian police use against their drug lords and terrorists is serious, the anti-terror uniform was worthy of NASA space exploration. Flame resistant and god knows what else. If aliens ever invade this planet, the Colombian police force will be the only people capable of saving the human race. Real talk.

It was an interesting insight into the recent history of the country. The best bit (obviously) was the Pablo Escobar exhibition in the basement, that and all the uniforms. UNIFORMS. I do like men in uniforms. Signs of submission. They command such respect, I would do whatever a Colombian policeman told me to do, the same goes for the Spanish Guardia Civil.

We were escorted around the museum by a young guy in uniform who ended the tour with a trip to the basement to see the Pablo Escobar exhibition. I wasn't that large, just a few pictures and mock Escobars showing his days in prison, his days as a politician and his death. There was a photograph display of every single member of the cartel some of which were taken at their scenes of death. Shot dead, their bodies sprawled over the ground, bloody. The worst was someone who had been both a police and a cartel informer. He had his own head opened to stuff his severed hand inside his face. He looked horribly disfigured. Brutal. All but four of the numerous members of the cartel are now dead. It seems crazy that they ran the show, made a mockery of the police and government but in the end their lawlessness got out of hand and the police took back the control of the streets. It is also crazy that one man drove this whole episode of Colombian history. Violence is something I don't really understand. I don't think I could have lived in Medellin during the days of Escobar.