Why Can't They Leave It Behind?

Juan Pablo Escobar, now Sebastian Marroquin.

Shortly after narco kingpin Pablo Escobar was shot to death on a Medellin rooftop in Dec. 1993, his wife and two children fled, first to Mozambique and then to Buenos Aires Argentina, where they have lived since, under different names.

In Argentina, by many accounts, Juan Pablo became a successful architect, designing projects both there and in Bogotá. He has also participated in a film, Sins of My Father, about the killings committed by his father, and written a memoir about growing up as the son of the planet's biggest and most violent drug kingpin. He's even launched an 'organic' clothing line, utilizing images from his father's career. He has also earned money from his father's name, including consulting on projects about the Medellin cartel, which generated a public dispute with the makers of Netflix' Narcos series because it did not consult him.

All in all, it seemed that Juan Pablo, now married with a son, was doing well. His Wikipedia entry (which sounds like it was written by him) states that:

'Although [Juan Pablo) and his family continue to make money on the rights to Pablo Escobar's name and likeness (such as selling clothing bearing his likeness for extra income), and have tried three times (unsuccessfully) to register Escobar's name as a brand,^[3] Marroquín prefers not to be linked with his father, which includes mention of his previous name; he is also determined to dissociate himself from the Medellín Cartel and the illegal drug trade in Colombia.'

So, it seems strange that the younger Escobar - now Sebastián Marroquin - would use his old contacts to arrange deals between Colombian narcos and Argentine businessmen. And even stranger that that narco would be an ex-associate of the Cali cartel, Pablo Escobar's mortal enemies. But that's exactly what Argentinean authorities now allege, based on newly discovered documents which show that Marroquin charged a percentage commission on the deals.

Marroquin and his mother were arrested once before in 1999 on money laundering charges, but released because of lack of evidence. This time, the evidence seems stronger.

Is there something in the Escobar genes which drives family members to risk their freedom and reputations in pursuit of 'easy' money, which they apparently don't even need?

Juan Pablo had been his father's press contact, and his 10-minute phone call from Bogotá's Tequendama Hotel enabled a search squad to triangulate the elder Escobar's location.


By Mike Ceaser, of Bogotá Bike Tours

Final Scene of 'La Guaca Millonaria'?

Soldiers on trial for keeping guerrilla money they'd found. (Photo: El Espectador)

When, on April 14, 2003, soldiers hunting for kidnapped U.S. contractors happened to dig up a package of money, the soldiers believed the fortune would change their lives. They were right, but not the way they expected.

The soldiers were marching thru a mountainous region of Caqueta Department, searching for three United States military contractors who had been captured and kidnapped by FARC guerrillas. The soldiers had occupied a deserted FARC camp and proceeded to search for weapons the guerrillas might have buried nearby. Instead, they found packages of money wrapped in black plastic.

'Dreaming doesn't cost anything.'

The soldiers proceeded to dig up some two dozen packages containing Colombian pesos or U.S. dollars. Altogether, the cache may have totaled some 40 billion pesos - close to 20 million U.S. dollars by today's exchange rate.

Naturally, as soon as the soldiers returned to the city of Popayán, they asked for leave and went wild. Some bought expensive cars, others houses. And, according to one soldier's account, the city's brothels shut their doors to everybody except for the free-spending soldiers.

Naturally, the episode couldn't be kept secret, and the 147 soldiers - or at least those who could be found - were arrested and eventually put on trial. But prosecution was tricky. After all, nobody was sure to whom the money rightfully belonged, since the guerrillas had probably obtained it thru narcotrafficking or extortion. The soldiers were first absolved of any crime, and then, in 2013, given sentences of up to 10 years. Yesterday, a military tribunal reduced the sentences to 4 years plus fines.

But only 84 of the original men were present for sentencing. The rest were either dead or had fled.

During the past decade, some of the soldiers involved have been murdered. Others have had relatives kidnapped for ransom. In the end, authorities recovered only a small fraction of the money originally found.

But at least one of the soldiers got something lasting out of the money. He had a sex-change operation, became Lilliana and opened a spa in a secret location, according to El Tiempo.

Along the way, the episode had produced books, a TV series and a film, 'Soñar no cuesta nada' ('Dreaming doesn't cost anything'), issued in English as 'A ton of luck.'

Guacas, or buried treasures, have been something of a theme in Colombian history ever since Colonial times. And they keep appearing. After his killing in 1993, cocaine king Pablo Escobar's mansion was sacked, its floors dug up and its walls bashed in by neighbors who believed riches were stashed there. If anybody found anything, they didn't talk about it. In 2003 in the town of Tulua, a drifter lived high for weeks on a cache of money he'd discovered inside the abandoned house of an arrested drug dealer. Three weeks after the discovery, the drifter was found dead, with signs of torture. And a few months ago, a street vendor told me to go visit a certain military post, where they were selling dollars at half the market rate. The soldiers there had found a guaca and were laundering the money.

I didn't see anything morally wrong with helping some humble, long-suffering soldiers make a buck from dirty money they'd found. But it could also mean trouble, so I didn't go.

By Mike Ceaser, of Bogotá Bike Tours

The Bankers' Prison?

Not going to jail for pocketing billions. 

That strange concept occurred to me after reading about the scandal at the HSBC bank, which laundered many millions in money from drug sales, as well as outlawed organizations and nations. HSBC, too, is apparently only an example of widespread practices in the banking industry.

So I Googled combinations of 'banking executives' and 'money laundering' and 'prison' - and came up quite empty. I did find one case - from 1994. I'm sure there have been others since, but they seem to be very few.

In contrast, of course, innumerable poor people have gone to prison for cultivating a patch of coca or marijuana plants, or smuggling a few ounces of a prohibited psychoactive substance.

The inequity is huge and obvious, but the solution difficult as long as wealthy bankers can hide behind teams of lawyers and corporate shields.

One solution would make everything more equal, however: Decriminalize drugs, and make their profits just as licit as those from whiskey, tobacco and orange juice.

Then, banks would have one less thing to worry about, governments would have lots more taxes, and lots of poor people would get out of jail.

By Mike Ceaser, of Bogotá Bike Tours

Can a Law Save Colombian Football?

Future Champions? Colombia's national football team. 

Colombia should be a world football powerhouse. That's futbol, of course, as in soccer.

After all, football is Colombia's most popular sport. Colombians are so passionate about it that cities virtually shut down during big matches, and fans of opposing teams sometimes turn to violence to prove their loyalty. Colombia should be another Argentina, but instead the country hasn't even classified for the last several World Cups and its national league is still tainted by narcotrafficking money.

Colombia used to be a contender. That was back in the era of Pablo Escobar and other cocaine kingpins, for whom owning a football team was a question of pride and useful for money laundering. So, they poured the money in.

Today, besides declining in quality, many of Colombia's professional football teams are in financial crisis, and even bankrupt. Deportes Quindio fell so far behind on players' salaries that last month the players refused to travel to Bogotá for a game - so the owner replaced them with juvenile players instead.

Now, Colombia hopes that a new Law of  Football will help recover its old glory and clean up the national football league.

Colombian football. Ready to get up again? 

Under the new law, teams are supposed to become corporations and document the origin of their money. if they fall behind in payments to their players, they'll lose official recognition. And fans who turn violent in the stadiums can be labeled 'terrorists' and receive up to ten years in prison. Pretty harsh. With more than half of the national league reportedly bankrupt, it'll be interesting to see how many teams survive the changes.

Recently, Colombia won the world indoor soccer championship - albeit playing at home. In July and August, the country will host the FIFA under-20 World Cup, its biggest-ever sports event. So Colombia will get the chance to recover old glories.

I hope it happens. Colombians deserve better.

By Mike Ceaser, of Bogotá Bike Tours