Guadalajara, a city that I've known for over 30 years, surprised me on my latest visit. Back in 2013, I wrote on my blog that it was a city full of promise but lacking leadership and competent management. This puzzled me because Guadalajara has attributes that many cities would envy. These include an almost ideal climate, a vibrant and young population, a strong cultural life, and a nice collection of historic buildings. But for years, Guadalajara just wasn't approaching its potential. Money and people were leaving the central areas, leaving it looking forlorn, rundown, and unsafe. 

I'm very happy to report that things are changing. Guadalajara is becoming a more pleasant destination - a place in which I could imagine living and thriving. What has brought about this change? 

Evidence of the change comes in many forms, but fundamentally it stems from obvious investment in the core of the city. It's a signal that the city is committed to creating a better urban environment for its residents. This is welcoming a variety of people back into the city center and I imagine brings a sense of optimism that will have (or is already having) a snowball effect with other investment following. 

A prime example is the new bike-share system, mibici, and the new bike lanes that have been added to many streets. I used mibici for three days and found it really transformed my time in the city. I could move quickly between neighborhoods and felt the central areas had become tied together. I no longer had to face a very long walk from the center to Chapultepec, for example, or from the area of my favorite hotel to really anywhere of interest in the city. The system is very affordable and I noticed a large number of people using it. I even noted capacity constraints in certain areas. It's clearly a popular addition to the urban scene. 

One of the telltale signs of Mexican city life is the ramshackle private buses that constitute a central part of  'public' transportation systems. These buses tend to be old and unattractive, and spew out huge amounts of pollution. 

Guadalajara is investing in new, city run public transportation projects. One of the most delightful is the new electric trolley buses that have replaced the derelict old electric buses from years past. These buses are beautiful, clean and a pleasure to ride (pictured here). I rode this bus several times and felt it was really up to typical European standards of public transport.. 

Guadalajara has other nice public transport options: its very clean light rail system, Tren ligero de Guadalajara (which is currently building a new line) and a bus-rapid transit line, Macrobus. 

Another sign of change is the spate of new high-rise construction projects west of the city center in the area near Chapultepec. The style of these buildings reminds me of buildings in nicer neighborhoods of Bogota, Colombia, a far denser city. The increase in density (and higher-income residents) will bolster local businesses such as restaurants and cafes and increase security. It's the beginning of a virtuous cycle of positive developments which I feel has finally come to this city. 

In contrast with Bogota, I should say that Guadalajara has a more laid-back and less-frenetic atmosphere, aided by the warm and sunny (but not too warm) climate that has got to be one of the best in the world. ​

The days I spent in Guadalajara were filled with a sense of adventure and enjoyment. There are many lively and delightful neighborhoods away from the typical tourist areas, such as the district around Calle Andrés Terán, that overflow with energy and tasty surprises, such as my favorite spot for tortas ahogadas, Mr. Paco´s.

A friend of mine from New York came for a visit, and she agreed that Guadalajara really would be a nice place to live. We enjoyed leisurely walks, delicious food, beautiful cafes, and the typically friendly Mexican people everywhere we went. Adding to the pleasure is the remarkably low cost of living here. Delicious meals can cost less than US$5, and the cinema less than US$3. Guadalajara, incidentally, has an outstanding independent film house, Cineforo, where I recently saw an excellent Iranian film, The Salesman. For those interested, Guadalajara is not a bad place to retire. A large apartment in a nice area near the center can run for less than US$500/month. 

As I wrote several years ago, Guadalajara has a lot of very attractive architecture and cultural attractions that need to be brought together into a cohesive whole to make this city really outstanding.

Although progress is being made, more pedestrianization of streets in the center - especially those that reach out to landmarks such as the Expiatorio (pictured at right) and the Chapultepec area - would help more fully tie things together.

A couple of good candidates would be Calle Priscilana Sànchez and/or Calle Manuel López Cotilla. At present these streets have narrow sidewalks and are traversed by polluting private buses of the old sort making them uninviting corridors for pedestrians. Their unwelcoming nature reinforces the sense of distance between the historical center and other beautiful areas of the city.

How difficult would it be to close one of these streets to traffic and just let pedestrians and businesses take over? It puzzles me how controversial rather simple solutions like this can be, especially in light of all the evidence from around the world showing how pedestrianization can bring connective streets like these to life, increasing quality of life and increasing economic activity significantly.

One of the joys of arrival in a foreign city is picking up a local newspaper, heading to a cafe and just absorbing the scene while perusing the news. In Guadalajara, I get the Latin American edition of El Pais (one of the best newspapers in the world, I believe), and with that stroll over to a sunny sidewalk cafe or restaurant and get settled in for a couple of hours. The simple pleasures of life are really hard to beat. Add to that the smiles of the ever-charming Mexicans, and I am a happy man here in Guadalajara. I will be back to spend more time in this lovely city.

Walking along the beautifully pedestrianized Madero Street in the heart of Mexico City, I was struck with nostalgia for Istiklal Street in Istanbul. Istiklal is the famous pedestrian street, lined with elegant buildings, stores and restaurants, that runs southwest from Taksim Square in the old European heart of Istanbul (see image below and my previous posting on Istanbul here). 

Comparing a street in Mexico City to a world-famous street in Istanbul might seem a provocation - and that it is. I want to lure readers into the mental exercise of repositioning Mexico City into a different category of place. 

Shedding some preconceptions opens the mind to a revealing comparison that extends beyond two lively pedestrian streets. These cities have a range of things in common and, in fact, if I had to choose a city that Mexico City most reminds me of, it just might be Istanbul.

Mexico City and Istanbul are very old cities, built upon layers of earlier civilizations, with huge populations (well over 10 million inhabitants each). They are filled with a vast array of historical and architectural treasures and have teeming streets, vast markets, elegant neighborhoods, and share an exhilarating vibrance. Incidentally, both cities were built on water, although in Mexico City's case the water has almost entirely disappeared. Comparing these cities also makes sense from an economic perspective: Mexico and Turkey have roughly equivalent incomes per head. It's illuminating to see the contrasts between cities of similar resources and size managing the challenges of creating an attractive and healthy urban environment.  

But while Istanbul is a mecca for tourists from all over the world, Mexico City remains a relative tourist backwater in comparison. It hasn't yet gained the recognition it deserves for the positive changes it's experienced over the last years and for its wealth of attractions and the impressive ambience it has in so any areas. 

Below is another image of Madero Street in Mexico City (left), and a picture of Istiklal Street in Istanbul (right).

Up front let me say that my verdict on Mexico City is in: you don't have to fly across the Atlantic or Pacific to visit a dynamic, exotic and captivating global city. 

Mexico City has pretty much everything any tourist, adventurous or not, could ask for. It has countless museums, shopping for all tastes, regional and international food, and overall a breathtaking level of urban vitality. 

There are only two cities in North America that offer this kind of dense city experience: New York and Mexico City. In Mexico City, however, you can immerse yourself in the urban scene for a small fraction of what it would cost in New York. I think Mexico City qualifies as one of the best kept secrets of North American travel. 

What I imagine to be Mexico City's unglamorous reputation is mostly a relic from the past that will fade as this city continues to improve and gains the attention it deserves. 

One of the things that makes Mexico City such an engaging and fascinating city is that it is over-endowed with a lot of friction. Friction, in this sense, is the the density of details on streets, details that make you want to stop and take a look, buy something, or have a seat and get something to eat or drink. You can see this in most of the pictures I've included in this posting. Mexico City just overwhelms your senses with the array of things on offer. A walk along the streets here is rarely uneventful.

An obvious starting point of a visit to Mexico City is the historical center. This area exudes character and, with the slightest help from the imagination, elegance. It is arguably the most extensive area of historic architecture in the Western Hemisphere. Few cities I've visited in North or South America can compare, although Buenos Aires gives Mexico City some serious, if more recent, architectural competition. Thanks to a concerted effort at restoration and revitalization, it now rivals even great European cities in terms of its attractiveness and beats most of them hands down when it comes to verve and dynamism. 

Below are images of some of the vibrant (often pedestrianized) streets of the historical center. 

Although tourists might imagine spending the bulk of their time in the historic center, this is just the beginning of what's on offer in this complex city. There are several extensive areas with rather dramatically different personalities. 

West of the center is Zona Rosa, which reminds me of modern areas of European cities, such as Barcelona or Madrid. Zona Rosa was once the wealthiest area of the city, but went into decline after the 1920s. It has since reinvented itself as a major center for shopping and entertainment. I think most tourists probably stay in this area because of its convenience, wealth of hotels and restaurants, and general attractiveness. Maybe it's the least exotic part of the city and most accessible for visitors. 

South of the Zona Rosa lie the Bohemian neighborhoods of Condesa and Roma. These areas, like Zona Rosa, have a history of being wealthy neighborhoods that went into decline as wealthy populations moved further west. They are built on a smaller, more intimate scale than Zona Rosa, and from what I observed, are gentrifying rapidly. This is the place to go to find trendy cafes and restaurants set in generally quiet and green streets. 

Further west of the Zona Rosa you will find the very exclusive and newer centers of wealth in neighborhoods such as Polanco and Lomas de Chapultepec. These areas, like clusters of the super wealthy in most large cities around the world, impress you with the extraordinary riches on display including high-end restaurants, stores and hotels.  

This is just a quick summary of some of the neighborhoods I've visited in this city.  A week or two here would barely scratch the surface of what's on offer. 

Below are views of streets in Condesa and Zona Rosa.

My case for parallels between Mexico City and Istanbul weakens critically, however, when you wander beyond the nicer sorts of neighborhoods I've described a bit above. The differences do not generally speak in Mexico City's favor.

The divergence is immediately evident in the differing attention to the details of infrastructure such as streets, sidewalks and other public spaces. It's plain to see in the obviously far more inequal society that Mexico is. And in all neighborhoods, rich and poor, the difference is there in the far poorer (if somewhat improved) air quality. These issues are important to raise because together they conspire to significantly drag down Mexico City's quality of life. Without addressing them effectively, Mexico City will never be as great a city as Istanbul.  

Ramshackle infrastructure is one of the characteristic features of Mexico's cities. It's apparent almost everwhere you go, with some exceptions, notably the infrastructure used by the upper classes, such as international airports.  The state of most streetscapes is stunningly apocalyptic. There is a haphazard look to construction, a seeming lack of any master plan, scraggly trees where they exist, and vast expanses of roughly poured concrete, with garbage strewn everywhere. This raggedness, combined with unattractive buildings spread out in a kind of low-density sprawl, makes for a uniquely unpleasant city experience in a large part of Mexico City's area. What I've written above about the delightful neighborhoods is true, but they make up a just one part of the city. Mexico City is so big that even if only 30% of its area is pleasant, that provides a huge area for tourists - and the wealthy - to enjoy. But it is truly a different world when you get away from the nicer areas.

Istanbul, in contrast, is a proud European city. It obviously takes pride in its general tidiness and sense of order in all of its neighborhoods, even the poorest. Istanbul, also a city of great contrasts, has much smaller areas of despair, and these are being renovated at a feverish pace (often to the dismay of those fighting for the rights of the poor). One reason for the less striking contrasts is the lower level of inequality in Istanbul. The poor are poor, but seemingly not as desperately poor as in Mexico City. 

The pictures below contrast the streets of Mexico City (top 3 pics) with those of Istanbul (bottom 3). Although I may have chosen nice examples from Istanbul, these are the norm, not the exception. I don't think I saw one street in Mexico City as nicely laid out and constructed as most common newer streets in Istanbul. Istanbul is another world, a city exhibiting a high level of urban organizational competence. 

An area where Mexico City compares favorably to Istanbul is in its extensive metro system. The system covers wide parts of the city and compared to cities in the United States and Europe, is very inexpensive (about 35 US cents for a ride anywhere the system goes).

During rush hours the metro is extremely crowded and not pleasant to use, but otherwise it's a great way to get around the city. I was impressed with the general level of cleanliness (easily cleaner and better maintained than the New York subway) and the polished stone floors. It's also an ideal place to see a wide spectrum of people and to witness the never-ending drama of vendors, musicians and others passing through the cars. 

The metro does not, however, cover all of the city. In fact, considering Mexico City's population, the system is smaller than it should be. Far too large a share of public transport takes place on terribly crowded buses (often privately run) that are not integrated with the metro system. If a low-wage Mexican worker has to take a couple of buses, or a bus and then the metro, to get to work, this can add up to a huge amount of time and significant cost. There are plans afoot to modestly expand the metro system in the next few years.

Below are couple of pictures of the artwork in one station and the unusual rubber-tired trains (as in Paris) which make for surprisingly quiet and smooth operation. 

There is one additional feature of Mexico City that truly stands out. I've never been to a city with such a proliferation of public washrooms. They are literally everywhere and cost less then 40 US cents to use. Just look for a WC sign. See shots below.

I think it's fitting to end with a picture of a congested highway in the middle of the city (left) because autos are both a symptom and a cause of so many of Mexico City's problems. 

Because the upper and middle classes generally don't use public transport, cars dominate the streetscapes of this city. And because this influential constituency doesn't use the trains or buses, they don't demand improved public transport. The problem perpetuates itself. With ever larger numbers of cars on the crowded streets, bus transport becomes slower and slower and air pollution stays at levels that are totally unacceptable. 

Despite being a place very well worth a visit, without addressing its serious societal inequalities, including the stark divide in mobility, Mexico City will be condemned to an average quality of life well below its peers around the world. For tourists on a one or two week visit it's rather easy to ignore most of these quality-of-life issues. I believe most visitors will come away positively surprised and charmed. I know I will be back.

I've spent most of the last 8 months in a Mexican village on the shores of Mexico's largest lake - Lake Chapala.  My parents retired here here over a decade ago, and I've been helping take care of my mother who sadly had a terminal illness.  Living in a small village was a dramatic change for a big city kind of guy, but the experience was rich on many levels.  And as I'm always on the lookout for ideas on how to improve urban sustainability and biodiversity I managed to learn some urban design lessons while here that should be applied in large cities.

The sustainable design visible in Ajijic results, in fact, from being behind the times. Modern, efficient construction techniques are only beginning to filter into the structure of the town.  Roads are generally not paved with smothering asphalt or cement, but instead with stones hand placed on a natural foundation of dirt.  These stones are quarried locally, are put into place without any mortar, and provide a very durable and long-lasting surface that is permeable to rain.  The roots of trees and other vegetation can grow nicely under the streets.  When changes are required the stones are simply dug up and rearranged.  An added advantage to these natural streets is that they do not encourage high speed auto traffic.  The roads are a bit rough for cars, so drivers generally drive slowly.  Traditional construction techniques extend into housing.  Most everything in this village is built from bricks and clay tiles.   Cement is used for the underlying structures of the houses (and for mortar, as well), but generally speaking there are few non-biodegradable materials used.  When local houses are abandoned, they sort of dissolve back into nature. 

Another striking thing about Ajijic is the proliferation of green on all sides.  There are gardens and trees wherever you look, and the ubiquitous stone walls are generally covered with flowering vines.  Biodiversity, already very high in this part of Mexico, is astounding.  Although many non-native species of plants are grown around houses, birds of many colors, small animals and insects are in abundance.  The surrounding mountains, largely undeveloped and disturbed only by some traditional agriculture, are also sources of beauty and biodiversity. 

Most large cities don't have the nature-rich, mountainous backdrop of Ajijic (nor the near-ideal climate), but there is no reason they can't adopt the sustainable and biodiversity-enriching practices I see around me here. Many streets and alleyways in U.S. cities could be, at least in part, made from permeable, natural pavements.  I mention the U.S. because in Europe permeable streets are much more common.   Both European and American cities can strengthen efforts to increase the variety of trees and shrubs they plant, choosing those varieties that encourage and nurture wildlife.  Spaces that generally are not green, such as the walls of buildings, can be retrofitted to support vines and other plants and provide nesting sites for birds.  These may seem like radical ideas, but here in Ajijic they surround you on all sides.  I will miss this corner of Mexico. 

Guadalajara, the center of Mexico's second largest metropolitan area, is a city I've come to know over several decades.  My grandparents used to spend their winters here (in the 1980s), and my parents have made the nearby village of Ajijic their retirement home for the last 10 years.  There are thousands of expatriates from all over the world in this area and the attraction is easy to see.  It has one of the best climates anywhere on the planet and is wrapped in the beauty of the mountainous mesa central, Mexico's altiplano region.

The physical charms of the city of Guadalajara, however, are harder to appreciate.  Despite a historic center studded with hundreds of impressive buildings, the quality of the urban experience is greatly compromised by jarring architectural blight, streetscapes overwhelmed by traffic in cars and smoke-belching, ramshackle buses, and a serious shortage of trees.  Considering Mexico's relatively high economic standing, lack of resources cannot be a fair excuse for this state of affairs.  Mexico has an income per head well above the Latin American average and one significantly higher than that in Belgrade or Bogota, cities I've written about favorably here.  It's obvious that something has seriously gone wrong with city governance and planning.  Tapatios, as the people of Guadalajara call themselves, are proud of their city and may be surprised to read what I write here.  But compared to so many other cities at this economic level, Guadalajara has a lot of work to do to catch up. 

Let me put my disappointment into context.  Whenever I go into the center of Guadalajara I feel a sense of promise.  The ingredients required for a stunningly beautiful urban scene are all here.  I'm not exaggerating.  As I mentioned earlier, there is a wealth of impressive architecture, from colonial to neoclassical, with many beautiful plazas and parks.  There is also a lively pulse due to a youthful population  Yet, the beautiful assets are disconnected and mixed in with unsightly buildings, low-end retail and gaudy fast food establishments.  The areas of beauty are strung together by charmless and unwelcoming streets.  This is a city that seems to willfully ignore its own potential (and problems), leaving its incredible assets wasted.  It's why Guadalajara itself never features as a top tourist destination in Mexico.  In discussions with people here I sense complacency.  There is limited recognition that the city lags so severely in quality of life.  And without this recognition there is, I imagine, limited public demand for the changes necessary to tie all the wonderful things this city has to offer into a compelling whole.

The quality of life deficit derives from   many things, including a society plagued by high levels of inequality and undeniably poor planning and city governance.  The inequalities have produced social problems that have driven the middle and upper classes out of the center of the city into quiet and safe suburban enclaves.  City and regional leaders did seemingly little to stem this flow and encouraged unending sprawl by building wide roads, almost like highways, radiating out from the center.  Instead of bolstering the historic center by maintaining high quality infrastructure and creating incentives for the middle and upper classes to stay, the center was allowed to deteriorate and become, in many areas, a haven for beggars and criminals.  It was no longer a meeting place for all segments of society, but primarily a commercial center for the lower classes. 

So instead of investing in the center and establishing policies that would encourage density and vertical growth, the Guadalajara region has opted, if by plan or negligence, to expand horizontally.  In structure, it has more in common with large cities in the United States than with those in Europe or South America.  Yet, unlike the United States, Mexico is not a wealthy country where automobile ownership is the norm.  Despite having nearly 5 million people in the metro area, most of whom are dependent on public transport, the region does not have a well developed, integrated public transport system. For those in poverty, this disorganization means grueling, multi-segment and expensive commutes.

It wouldn't be fair not to point out the recent efforts that are being made to improve the center of Guadalajara, although in my opinion they are piecemeal.  In many areas of the center new, wider stone sidewalks have been laid, often with tree plantings.  There are now pole-mounted garbage cans on many streets, and plans are afoot to extend the metro and add more rapid-transit bus lines.  Some serious urban renewal is taking place, especially in the Chapultepec area, where new high-rise apartment buildings are under construction and the young and trendy congregate.  However, it is still in the outlying suburbs where the major development takes place. Puerta Hierro, an exclusive commercial and residential high-rise development, is a case in point.  It is far from the city center and difficult to access without a car.

What I have't been able to find is a clear vision and master plan for the urban renewal of central Guadalajara - a renewal that includes the return of the middle and upper classes (and tourists) to the city center.  It would require getting cars off more of the streets and a great expansion of pedestrian areas, replacing polluting, derelict buses with modern, quiet and clean alternatives, the widespread construction of quality multi-story housing, and incentives to get desirable businesses back into the center.  There are many excellent models available.  Santiago, Chile provides one example of how a thriving Latin American city center, inclusive of all socioeconomic groups, can look.  See my posting on Santiago here.  With the right policies and investment, Guadalajara has what it takes to become an elegant, walkable city with a thriving, inclusive city culture.  It can also become a top destination for tourists to Mexico.

PLEASE SEE MY NEW BLOG POSTING IN 2017 ON POSITIVE CHANGES IN GUADALAJARA: http://www.citinature.org/city-livability-blog/category/guadalajara

    In this posting I share findings from a paper I wrote on inequalities in the distribution of street trees across neighborhoods of differing socioeconomic level in Bogotá,  Colombia.  Yes, it's quite a mouthful. 
    My research generated the first set of published data on street-tree inequality in any developing-world city, conclusively demonstrating the green divide in Bogotá and providing a basic model for street-tree equity studies in other cities around the world. 

     In all my writing, the importance of trees in creating a quality urban life has been a constant theme.  The benefits of trees, especially street trees, range from environmental improvements (urban cooling and cleaner air) to social benefits (stress reduction and neighborhood cohesion).  Countless studies have documented the transformative power of urban trees.  And what's more, most people would agree that trees are beautiful.   But despite their importance, trees are not a resource shared equally in most cities of the world. 

    Even a brief stay in Bogotá will make one aware of the dramatic change in
the look of streets as one moves across socioeconomic lines.  The change is not striking simply in respect to the style and quality of home and street construction, but equally dramatic in the almost complete lack of street trees and vegetation in
neighborhoods at the lower socioeconomic levels. 

    Bogota is a city officially divided into socioeconomic units called estrato (strata) numbered from 1 to 6.  Estratos 5 and 6 represent the wealthiest neighborhoods, and 1 and 2 the poorest.  
    To document the tree disparities across estrato, I conducted a tree survey with a random sampling of 30 streets in the wealthiest part of the city (estratos 5 and 6) and 30 in the poorest parts of the city (estratos 1 and 2).  At left is a chart showing the data.  The survey results makes it clear that the tree gap across socioeconomic lines in Bogotá is uniform and stark.  Generally speaking, the streets in the lowest estrato of Bogotá are barren, while the streets in the wealthy neighborhoods have a healthy canopy of trees. 

    But why does this green divide exist?  The observant visitor to Bogotá will notice that a formidable barrier to street-tree planting exists in much of the city:  the changing structure of the streets as one moves from the higher estratos to the lower.  This change can be very abrupt. Simply crossing a single street can bring you into a markedly different environment.  One key to the difference is the structure of sidewalks and the allocation (or not) of a planting median between the sidewalk and street.  The lack of a planting median is one of the hallmarks of the lower estratos in Bogotá.  Not only are the structure of the houses different, but the streets in the lower strata are almost always without a green median between the sidewalk and the street, and hence are without room for trees.  They are urban deserts by design. 

    The inferior design of low-estrato streets in Bogotá has resulted from mass migration into the city under the neglectful watch of dysfunctional city and national governments. In the period from 1960 to 2012, Bogotá's population increased from slightly over 1 million inhabitants to nearly 10 million today.  During much of this same period, Bogotá's government was ill equipped in terms of resources, organization, and capabilities (and interest, many would say) to manage the mass influx.  Large swathes of this city were, therefore, developed without any government regulation.  With no goverment involvement, private 'pirate' developers created most lower-class neighborhoods in this city.  To maximize their profits and keep costs low, land was divided into as many lots as possible, leaving only a bare minimum of space for public amenities.  Streets in these neighborhoods are very narrow, and sidewalks, where they exist, are extremely narrow.  
    The problem of the structure of low-strata neighborhoods hangs heavily over efforts to improve the urban environment for the poor, and in particular efforts to increase street-tree cover in Bogotá. As nearly half of Bogotá's
neighborhoods arose from pirate developments, it seems to many that these areas will be permanently treeless.  A rebalancing of the tree population in Bogotá’s streets will require strong and effective government and a commitment to focus on the streets that dominate the lives of more than half the population of this city.  
    To get things moving, highly visible pilot projects should be launched, in conjunction with community organization and green education campaigns, to demonstrate the great improvements in quality of life that green streets can bring.  As the streets of most neighborhoods don’t provide much space for trees, innovative and low-cost solutions that provide some of the benefits of trees may be adopted, such as green roofs and vine-covered walls and canopies.  However, in many cases as streets are paved for the first time, or repaved, redesigns can be implemented that include planting spaces for trees.  In many areas, streets can be pedestrianized, which would allow ample space for canopy-forming trees to be planted.   Successful projects showing how city life can be transformed will lead to further interest and belief by the public in the benefits of tree-lined streets.  This dynamic city, with its mild and favorable climate, has what it takes to become one of the greenest and most beautiful in South America.

In this posting I will discuss inequality (a very hot topic in the news today) and its relationship to urban greening.  Inequality in a society is popularly measured by the Gini Index.  If you look at the chart below, representing data from the Gini Index, the darker blue a country is, the more evenly distributed its wealth is.  Countries such as Norway, Sweden, Germany, South Korea and Australia are among the most equal in the world.  Next in line among the lighter blue countries come places such as Canada, France, Japan and the 'rest' of the developed world.  In fainter blue we find countries such as China and Russia  Moving down the scale into the tans and oranges, we arrive in Latin America, the most unequal region in the world.  What's striking is the inclusion of the U.S. in this region of inequality, with a GINI coefficient on par with that of Mexico and Argentina.  Colombia, Brazil and Chile have even more severe inequality.  South Africa, still dealing with the legacy of apartheid, has the most unequal society of any major country in the world.

Inequality by itself is something that any normal society has and requires.   Without inequality of capabilities, efforts and rewards, the modern economy wouldn't function.  But severe inequality, as we see in the U.S. and Latin America, has negative side effects  that weigh heavily on societies at large.  These effects include high crime and homicide rates (and the concomitant high incarceration rates), high teenage pregnancy rates, poor educational performance (and a resulting oversupply of unskilled and shortage of skilled labor), a distrust in institutions (both government and private), decreased effective demand (a lowering of overall consumption in the market), mental and physical health problems, and a poor natural environment. 
When people on the bottom feel disenfranchised, that their extra effort won't pay off because upward mobility seems impossible or extremely unlikely, social cohesion and stability suffer. As an American living in Colombia, I am particularly fascinated by the inequality debate taking place in the United States now.  It all seems so familiar, and so relevant for Colombia, as well.  On the whole, gross inequality is not only bad for the poor.  It's bad for everyone. 

The United States is a country of great wealth.  But there's nothing unique about the phenomenon of wealth and its associated beautiful neighborhoods, excellent schools and high quality of life.  Nearly every country and major city in the world exhibit these phenomena to some extent.  Even generally unpleasant places I've come to know, such as Lagos, Nigeria, have islands of extreme wealth and privilege.  What is, on the contrary, relatively unusual are places where the gap between the wealthy and the poor is not so strikingly evident, where the urban environment doesn't shift dramatically when moving from one economic reality to another, where the poor aren't confined to a dramatically inferior quality of life and to circumstances that are hugely deterministic of how their life will proceed.     

Bogotá provides an excellent example of the typical pattern in middle income countries.   Unlike a very poor city such as Lagos, Bogotá has vast areas of impressive wealth, with hundreds of thousands, if not over a million, of its eight million residents enjoying a living standard which most New Yorkers or Tokyoites might envy.  If we could isolate the wealthy neighborhoods of Bogotá and consolidate them into a separate city, I'm rather sure it would rank among the wealthiest and best educated in the world.  

And not only is the abundance impressive.  So too are the opportunities for those at the top.  If you are from a wealthy family in Bogotá, odds are that you have an excellent education, high-quality medical and dental care, a network of influential connections - and an excellent job paying a rich world salary with a social and cultural life to match.  You will be missing little that your wealthy peers in Europe or the US enjoy.  There is a pride among the well-to.do in Bogotá.  They have created a beautiful world in which to live.  

And the gross inequality of Bogotá, not often visible from the confines of the wealthier districts, adds to the luxurious life that the upper classes here live.  Abundant cheap labor makes life convenient, relaxing and safe.  There are maids who cook, clean and care for children, doormen who guard the countless luxury apartment buildings, and a whole array of other people providing services at very low cost to make life almost care-free by the standards of the average person in the so-called rich world.  The upper classes here have very little interest of moving to Europe or the US, except possibly in pursuit of an education - after which they tend to come home.   

But the peace of mind of this upper class must be contingent upon an ability to ignore the terrible poverty and hardships that so much of the population here faces - and to forget the risks historically associated with it.  Maybe they tell themselves that in a rapidly growing economy such as that of Colombia (Colombia is growing faster than the US ever did in it's developmental period) there are so many opportunities that's it just a matter of hard work and responsibility to create a comfortable life and become comfortably middle or upper class.  It's a comforting thought that shows very little understanding of the reality of being poor, hungry, poorly educated and with no connections and none of the advantages that come with birth into privilege.  In my time here in Colombia I've come to know people on both sides of the divide, and I see how insurmountable the barriers are to those unfortunate enough to be born on the wrong side of the tracks.  

I feel that the U.S. has something to learn from the example of countries such as Colombia.  We seem to have forgotten the course of our own development, from a country with extreme poverty and inequality to one with a large middle class and, until the last decades, diminishing inequality and poverty.  When Americans nostalgically look back to a better era, often it is the 1950s and 60s.  The economy was strong, unemployment was low, foreign competition was weak, and there was a perception of boundless opportunities and certainly a feeling that you could have a better life than your parents and grandparents.  This was the time of the 'Great Compression', a period when income inequality was at an all-time low in US history.   This period extended through the early 1980s.  See the chart below.    

The last three decades have put the US on a reverse course to return us to the inequality of 100 years ago.  This brings me back to what I see as the converging nature of US and Latin American societies.  Americans have typically looked down on Latin America as a backward region with terrible inequality and poverty, high crime rates, low levels of educational attainment, and dysfunctional government.  But when these same issues are affecting us at home, why do so many turn a blind eye? 

It might be interesting to make a comparison of the US of 100 years ago with the Colombia of today.  This was the U.S. of small, laissez-faire government and few social protections.  It was a country of new industries, rising to economic preeminence in the world.  However, a comparison with the Colombia of today is not flattering.  The US economic growth rate was 50% lower, literacy rates substantially lower, health care coverage and life expectancy far behind, and educational attainment and incomes (in constant dollar terms) much lower.  This may have been a glorious era in the eyes of some historians, but it was no golden age for the average American.  

A return to high-level inequality explains some of the parallels between the United States and Latin American societies today.  As I've written above, both the U.S. and Latin America have strikingly high homicide rates, high levels of incarceration (the U.S. leads the world), low social cohesion among differing groups (socioeconomic, religious, racial, political, etc), a lack of trust in public institutions, low high school graduation rates, inaccessibility for many to higher education, and a perception among some groups that respect can't be earned without recourse to violence. 

I, for one, am not comfortable with America slipping into the same league as Latin American countries.  After my sojourn in Colombia, I plan to return to the United States because I don't want to spend the rest of my life in a country with deep social problems and the instability this entails.  Americans in the past have taken pride in the stark divide between the U.S. and our neighbors to the south.  There was (and still is) an air of moral superiority, a belief that our society is fundamentally better.  Will it continue to be? On our present trajectory, it's doubtful.      

Inequality in both Colombia and the U.S. has a green footprint.  In fact, the green divide might serve as a great marker of social inequality.  It's easy to see it in the tree-lined streets and well-groomed parks of wealthy districts and the barren streets and abandoned lots of poor areas - as evident in New York or Los Angeles as it is in Bogotá.      
There is a lot of research establishing the negative consequences resulting from a lack of trees and green space in a neighborhood, ranging from the physical (more polluted air and a stronger heat island effect) to the psychological (lower general sense of well being and more stress).  Green in the public space is one example of a common human need that is often not being met in grossly unequal societies - just like good public schools and security.  Efforts to address gross inequality can start with initiatives to re-balance public goods, to make the experience of walking down a street in Soacha feel not so utterly different from the experience of walking down the street in Chico (a wealthy neighborhood of Bogotá), or being in a public school in the south Bronx not so different from attending a public school in Westchester County (a wealthy suburban area of New York). 

Jumping into a cab outside Ezeiza International Airport, the mythical Buenos Aires of my imagination - a city of European sophistication somehow juxtaposed on the Pampas - started coming into focus as an excitingly different reality.  As we neared town, I was struck by the immensity of this place, watched endless rows of tall, weathered apartment blocks passing by, and felt an odd nostalgia for eastern Europe.  This could have been a road into Warsaw or Moscow, or some other large city in the east.  I had left Latin America!   

The sophistication, I discovered, was not missing.  Some areas in the center really do resemble Madrid, Barcelona or Paris.  These central areas were built on a European-inspired design during Argentina's era of relative wealth (even in 1965 Argentina had a higher per capita income than Japan or Spain) and the pretensions are impossible to miss in the city's grandiose monuments, soaring civic architecture, broad boulevards, and lovely parks. I was struck by the excellent underlying design that, despite rough edges, makes Buenos Aires an extremely livable and likable city.  


As an urban greening (and livability) advocate, certain things stood out:  the canopy of trees over almost every street; the wide, green balconies; the excellent urban transport system; and a street design that fosters a lively street culture. 

Coming from Bogotá, in many ways a very green city, I quickly noticed the difference decades of street tree planting and care can make.  Buenos Aires has a mature canopy of street trees, mostly European species such as plane trees and lindens, and they add great beauty to the whole city.  On a hot mid-summer day, with a strong sun beating down, the difference this tree canopy makes for pedestrians is incredible.  Not only is UV radiation greatly reduced, but temperatures can be as much as 5°C degrees cooler than in areas with no tree cover.  Trees also filter the air (intercepting dangerous airborne particles and removing polluting gases such as carbon monoxide, sulfur dioxide, and nitrogen dioxide), absorb carbon dioxide, help manage rainwater runoff, and provide shelter for birds and other animals.  
Despite all the financial nightmares that this country and city have been through, the trees are maintained, and I noted a lot of new tree planting, as well.

Buenos Aires is a city of apartments, often in tall buildings, and the vast majority of these have wide balconies.  In some of the older areas of the city, balconies have striking details, such as ornate ironwork and carved stone.   People seem to use these spaces much more than they do in Bogotá or New York (where balconies are a relative rarity), evidenced by the number of plants, furniture and activity I witnessed on them.  In combination with the trees on the street, the vegetation adds a calm and softness to the environment.
I've noticed a trend in many cities (Bogotá, for one) to exclude balconies from new buildings, presumably to maximize indoor floor space.  This trend doesn't seem to have caught on in Buenos Aires.  Even the newest apartment towers I saw include broad balconies.

A car is definitely not needed to reach any part of this city.  There are six underground metro lines, various commuter rail lines, and one of the best bus systems I've seen anywhere. I've tried all the various options. Of all the metro systems on which I've ridden, the Buenos Aires 'Subte' reminds me most of the subway in New York, both in general design and general state of disrepair.  But like the New York subway, it functions.  The commuter rail lines take you to neighborhoods in the city not covered by the Subte and to the suburbs.  I took one of these lines far out into the hinterland, for more than an hour, past industrial zones, beautiful suburbs (and small shantytowns) and even pastures with cows - all for under 50 US cents.  But my favorite form of transport in Buenos Aires is the buses.  I remember years ago, Paris had beautiful buses of an older design with many nice details (like chrome trim) on them (nothing like the standardized, modern buses of today).  Buenos Aires has buses somewhat like this, made in Argentina, of a design that I think hasn't changed much in a while.  There are literally hundreds of bus lines crisscrossing the city, with extremely frequent schedules, and a very low cost.  Once you figure the system out (there is a very useful guide available, the 'Guia T'), they becomes a natural part of city life.

Finally, I have to mention the excellent street layout, zoning, and block design, which together make for very lively, livable city spaces, generating an invigorating city life.  Streets in Buenos Aires generally have short blocks, meaning access between streets and neighborhoods is easy.  People are not hemmed in.  Most streets have businesses of some sort on them, whether it's fruit and vegetable stores, cafés or travel agencies.  There are not many empty facades.  The streets are busy with life.  Jane Jacobs must have loved Buenos Aires, if she'd ever visited.  A great innovation, which is lacking in most cities in the New World, is the virtual elimination of protruding, 90-degree corners of buildings.  Generally, the corners of buildings in Buenos Aires are squared off, as you see in the pictures below, providing an inviting space at most corners for cafés and restaurants, and just more space for pedestrians.  

In closing, an odd thing about this river city is that the river itself is hardly noticed.  There are few clues that you are directly next to one of the widest rivers and biggest estuaries in the world, unless you go stubbornly in pursuit of it. The vast Rio de la Plata runs all along the northern and eastern parts of the city, but the bulk of shoreline is private, so finding a place to see it is tough.   The newly developed harbor area, called Puerto Madero, doesn't seem to offer much of a river view.  The river is so wide that it looks like the sea, with the exception of its muddy brown color,  We walked for hours and through all sorts of marginal and industrial areas to find, rather accidentally, a beautiful park on the banks of the river commemorating victims of state terrorism, a must-see in Buenos Aires, although it seems to be in none of the guidebooks.

When I arrived in Bogotá and started my search for a place to live, an essential element of any candidate apartment was a balcony with plenty of sunshine.  I once lived without outdoor space in Manhattan.  As much as I loved my neighborhood and apartment, with no place to recline in the sun and tend some plants I felt confined.  City life by its nature separates us from the natural world, but even a small balcony or veranda can bring a substantive experience of nature back into one's life.  I have covered my Bogotá balcony with flowering plants, adding color and a refuge for wildlife to a previously barren space, and to my delight it's become a regular stop for green violet-ear hummingbirds, black flowerpiercers, and rufous-collared sparrows - who are at this very moment nibbling on some seeds I left out this morning.  
Balcony biodiversity is one new emphasis of urban environmentalists and it is gaining traction in some cities.  The Royal Horticultural Society in the UK held a competition on balcony biodiversity last year and there are a few British bloggers who cover balcony gardening.  It's not surprising that the UK leads in this (there are few countries as addicted to gardening), but what is encouraging to me is evidence of serious balcony gardening in cities all over the world - and its potential for supporting and increasing biodiversity.    

Last Friday I returned to Bogotá from Santiago, Chile, where I'd spent 10 days on holiday.  Santiago has many faces.   It has a European-style city center, areas more typically Latin American, and a wealthy east that looks much like northern California.  Santiago isn't as fashionable as Buenos Aires, but it does have a sense of order and functionality that makes it seem like many cities in the developed world.  But what most engaged my green eyes was the remarkably verdant balconies throughout the city.  The variety and exuberance of vegetation on these Santiago verandas is really unusual.  In Santiago I don't see much of the highly formal planting style that is more common here in Bogotá.  Instead it's a wild mish-mosh of plants that are allowed to grow and spill out over the edges with seemingly little attempt at reining it all in.

This penchant for green extends to professional buildings, as well.  On the left is the business school of the prestigious Catholic University, which has flowering vines (I don't know the species) as a built-in architectural feature.  Some decorative columns in the plaza in front of this building have small trees growing out of the top of them.  
The city of Santiago has a green plan, Santiago Verde, which nicely complements Santiago's green balconies.  The city is planting 250,000 new trees every year and designing new thematic plazas which will be named after the types of trees planted.  There will be, for example, literary plazas, gastronomic plazas and medicinal plazas, each harboring on average 50 species of trees famous in literature, food and medicine, respectively.  This program is part of Chile's national Proyecto Forestación Urbana, wherein 17 million trees will be planted in Chile's cities.  I saw a lot of progress within the city and in Santiago's outlying areas.    

Some may ask if maintaining and increasing biodiversity in cities really matters.  Wouldn't it be wiser to instead focus on protecting biodiversity in natural areas, such as national parks?  The answer is becoming clear.  As urban areas relentlessly expand into agricultural, forest and natural areas, regional biodiversity is threatened.  Threats - including extinction - to many species are accelerating globally.  There is no denying the trends.  Building urban environments with habitats and sources of food for wildlife helps compensate for the loss of other habitat.  It can also create bridges between areas of remaining natural habitat now separated by human settlements, allowing for safe movement between populations of wildlife.  And as the biggest impediment to changing our destructive environmental trajectory is a lack of awareness and understanding, an urban commitment to maintaining biodiversity helps reconnect city dwellers (the majority of humanity) to the natural world making them feel they have a stake and a role in its future.

As I'm writing about biodiversity I couldn't resist including a  picture of one of Santiago's most unforgettable species:  its street dogs. There are a large number of dogs living on the streets in Santiago, but it's not at all as you would find in a typical developing-world city.  These dogs generally look very healthy and clean, are well behaved, and just seem to be equals among the human pedestrians of the city.  I see this as just another sign of Santiago's civility.   

Santiago is a city nearing its destiny as the first developed-world capital in Latin America.  You can see it in the faces of the people, in the over one-hundred kilometers of shiny metro lines, and in the general sense of civility and calm.  Santiago may not be the most glamorous or exciting city in South America, but it does offer something rather unique in the region:  predictability and confidence in the future.  The green balconies of Santiago announce a city that has come of age.  .  

A holistic city vision and plan for streets, green spaces and green transport is a foundation for high-quality city life.  But what exactly is it that makes for an urban landscape that supports the good life?  In this posting I focus on mobility, a critical key to urban health.  Mobility in a sophisticated urban life is the ability for anyone to get around a city safely, quickly, and with little or no stress.       
In most cities today, a minority has a stranglehold on the space allocated to transport.  This minority (and it is a minority in most cities of the world) is city dwellers who use cars.  Big-city space is scarce, and with one person in a car taking up an area that could accommodate dozens in a bus or streetcar, or maybe 6 on bicycles, cars tend to overwhelm urban infrastructure and rob everyone of quality mobility.
Large cities around the world are looking for solutions to the mobility problem, and those that have succeeded have almost invariably placed limits on the automobile.  These successful cities have built accessible and efficient public transport systems.  Some have gone a step further, making bicycling a safe and viable option for all urban residents, revolutionizing urban life in unexpectedly nice ways.  Innovative street design, incorporating bicycle paths, is central to the plans of any city aiming for the highest quality of urban life.

Bicycle paths take many forms, but can simply be defined as designated lanes for bicycle use.  Ideally, these paths are segregated from automobile and other traffic, although the reality in dense urban areas is that bicycle lanes are often shared and/or just added as an afterthought to existing streets with no separation from vehicular traffic.  
The development of bicycle infrastructure (but not bicycle usage) tends to closely follow socioeconomic indicators such as high income and high education.  The countries best known for providing excellent paths for bicyclists include the Netherlands, Denmark, and Germany.  Cities with a similar reputation include Montreal, Portland, Perth, Barcelona, and even New York as of late.  But one city ranked near the top for its biking infrastructure is a bit out of place in this elite group of wealthy countries and cities:  Bogotá, the capital of Colombia.  Bogotá consistently ranks among the top ten cities globally for biking, and it provides a model for many other cities in the developing world.  There's a fascinating history behind Bogotá's unlikely rise, and I recommend you take a look at Martin Herrndorf's blog on this topic here.

Bogotá, although nestled in the high Andes and with an impressive mountain backdrop, is generally a flat city that is ideal for bicycle transport.  The planners of the cicloruta (Spanish for bike path) system in Bogotá have used this flatness, and the city's grid pattern, to make for an extensive system (over 300km) of separated bike paths that efficiently take you just about anywhere in the city. I have ridden across nearly half the system in my five months in Bogotá, and generally the experience has been excellent.  The system is well-maintained, and despite the rainy climate and sometimes bad air pollution along major roads, it's a wonderful way to get around the city.  
The paths here are used for leisure and exercise, general transport, and have a surprising number of people delivering goods of great variety - from hot meals to metal piping.  I could just as easily exchange the word 'people' with 'men', however, when describing users of the ciclorutas.  My impression is that male bikers greatly outnumber female bikers, especially on weekdays.  I can only speculate as to why (maybe security concerns or an idea that it's not a feminine way to get around).  A recent article in Transportation Alternatives gives some answers to a similar question in New York City. 
Finally let me clarify that despite its extensiveness the cicloruta system in Bogotá is not, in my observations, used like systems in Amsterdam and Copenhagen as a primary mode of transport for office workers.  But this is a topic for another posting.    

Despite my optimism about biking in  Bogotá, it does present certain  challenges and frustrations.  In cities such as Amsterdam, with a long history of urban bicycling, a common culture of biking has developed wherein every Dutch person seems to  instinctively know the basic rules.  Pedestrians and vehicles usually stay out of bike lanes, bicyclists signal to each other to indicate turns, and a general level of biking civility is maintained.  In Bogotá its more of a free-for-all.  Pedestrians routinely walk in bike lanes, cars and other vehicles (and vendor carts) block the routes, and in any situation where a bicyclist needs to enter a proper street, it can be dangerous.  There is a general lack of respect for bicyclists (and pedestrians) by drivers in this city.  Cars do not tend to slow down and yield to bicycles - even if there is a stop sign demanding this.  What's needed here is more verkehrsberuhigung, a wonderful compound German word for traffic calming, a concept the embraces the view that streets are public spaces that should be shared equally by all users.  Typical traffic calming strategies include speed bumps, curb extensions, and signs indicating pedestrian/bicycle crossing areas.  

In addition to its ciclorutas, there are additional opportunities for bicyclists in this huge metropolis.  Every Sunday and national holiday Bogotá closes over 120km of city streets to traffic and from 7 a.m. to 2 p.m. the streets are the domain of bicyclists, pedestrians, rollerbladers and others luxuriating in the usually off-limits expanses of space devoted to the automobile.  This practice is called ciclovia and the city estimates it provides exhaust-free exercise space for over 1 million people and it is hugely popular here.  There are few better ways to get in touch with the local scene in Bogotá than to ride or stroll down one of the closed streets on a Sunday morning.   It's a festive occasion and a whole industry has arisen to cater to the needs of those out on the streets.  There are well-organized vendors selling drinks, fruit and other snacks and bicycle repair stands lining the streets.  Ciclovia is a practice that should be adopted by cities all over the world, and it's not isolated to Bogotá.  I've seen a similar, if less well-organized, program in Guadalajara, Mexico.   

For my work with CitiNature, the ciclorutas of Bogotá provide a natural space for projects, as they are inconsistently greened.  Biking under a green canopy adds visual pleasure to a ride.  Trees give a fresh smell to the air, provide protection from the tropical sun and act as a buffer with traffic.  In some areas, the vegetation along the paths is lush, in others patchy or nonexistent.  There are many spaces that may have once been planted with trees and bushes that today are empty - easy targets for a greening project.  .  
There are also many un-pruned trees that  obstruct bicyclists.  It's not uncommon to have to duck as you ride to pass through some areas.  I envision a project wherein CitiNature will help train volunteer pruners to do this job, as is done in New York City.     

The opportunities open to bicyclists in Bogotá add to the quality of life in this city and with increased cycling - especially for commuting to work - the physical environment of Bogotá can further improve.  
To purchase a bike in Bogotá and start making a difference, check out Martin's excellent recommendations.  

Announcements of trips to Colombia, and Bogotá its capital, are generally followed by quizzical glances, questions about safety (and sanity), and repetitions of well-worn cliches about the drug trade.  People are skeptical about Colombia.  After more than three months of living here, I must say that Bogotá is one of the most misunderstood and underrated capitals in the world.  It has a dramatic setting high in the Andes, with a lush range of the mountains running right alongside.  It's a city of grand scale moving rapidly away from a past of violence and urban chaos into a period of greater safety and urban renewal.  And there's an infectious energy in the air that's hard not to succumb to.  

I came to Bogotá to consider it as a site for future projects with CitiNature and soon after arrival I was convinced that this was a place with which I wanted to engage and put down some roots.  In this blog posting I'll give a general overview of the city's allure to an urban greening activist.    

Three things sum up my excitement about Bogotá: 1) its positive trajectory; 2) an ideal climate; 
3) its expansive scale.    

Bogotá is not an ancient colonial city (although it does have a beautiful historic center), but instead a modern city with an orientation towards the future.  In many parts you could easily mistake yourself for being in newer districts of a European city.  And the similarities are not skin deep.  Bogotá has one of the most extensive systems of bicycle paths in the world (over 300km of paths and growing), a rapidly expanding express bus system (almost like a metro) called the Transmilenio, a government  intent on improving the infrastructure for pedestrians (there are carefully laid brick pedestrian pavements in many areas of the city now), and a cafe culture unlike I've seen anywhere else in the western hemisphere. It's not a city looking back.  

The climate in Bogotá is reminiscent of a Scandinavian summer - and this climate is year-round, shifting only through periods of more or less rain.  Nights are quite cool, but the strong sun warms the city quickly in the mornings.  With abundant rainfall and mild temperatures, Bogotá should be a mecca for gardeners.  This is a city of lush green lawns, blossoming flowers, and hundreds of parks.  Gardening in the nicer parts of town tends to be done by professional gardeners and they do beautiful work with an incredible range of plants that this permanently temperate climate allows.  

For people in search of a project, Bogotá is a city of enticing opportunities.  As might be expected in the 4th largest city in Latin America, Bogotá boasts vast areas of impressive wealth shadowed by neighborhoods less opulent, and large areas of real and relative poverty.  Some 30% of the population officially live below the poverty line.  The city epitomizes the global correlation between wealth and "green."  The wealthier neighborhoods of Bogotá are generously supplied with parks and the streets lined with trees and bushes.  They are wrapped in green, from gardens spilling over high-rise terraces to meticulously manicured landscapes.  The rich in Bogotá know what they've got: the perfect climate for exuberant vegetation.  And it is stunningly beautiful.  

Move a bit to the west from the wealth along the base of the mountains (or south from the newer districts in the north), however, and things start to change, sometimes abruptly.  Areas that previously were solidly middle class or wealthy have obviously been in decline for some time, I imagine due to the violence this city experienced in the not too distant past.  Single homes are much harder to protect than high-rises with doormen and the population with money may have largely migrated to new areas of high density.    Once charming neighborhoods are slowly crumbling through benign neglect, and previously elegant parks and streets are losing their trees and bushes.  Few seem to care about maintaining them.  Some streets have entirely lost their trees.  In the poorer neighborhoods there may never have been trees in the first place.  

But as security has increased, the possibilities for urban renewal are endless.  There are a surprising number of streets lined with architecture that might be right at home in the hearts of European cities.  Older neighborhoods surrounding parks seem only to need the right spark for rejuvenation efforts to begin.  I'm of the opinion that this is the time to be in Bogotá and be one of those sparks that brings this city closer to reaching its potential as the most lovely and livable in South America.  And as an urban greening advocate, the low-hanging fruit are in abundance.  Streets and parks that have lost their trees could rapidly be replanted.  As the climate is so benign here, with ample rainfall, the typical losses associated with urban tree planting would be minimized.  A green revolution is in the offing, and I want to be a part of it. 

Below are a few more pictures of the characteristic brick architecture in neglected areas of Bogotá, something I hadn't expected to find in South America.  

This initial snapshot of Bogotá wouldn't be complete without a few pictures of the beautiful historic center, which follow below.  

In the following weeks and months I will be reporting more on Bogotá and CitiNature's plans here.  I recommend to anyone who hasn't been to Colombia to consider putting it on your agenda.  It is a rare jewel of a country generally uncrowded by tourists.